Raw Act of Possession
Part Four
by sarAdora


"I'll give you twenty minutes of privacy in the bathroom," he said, running his fingers through her hair, brushing a few errant curls off her face. "After that, I'm coming in after you. Do you understand?"

She didn't respond, just looked at him. He gave her butt a light swat and whispered in her ear as if others might hear his words.

"Then I'll catch up where I left off and spank you till your butt is cherry red." He chuckled when she blushed and kissed her hard, enjoying her body and realized he enjoyed the way she defied him, fought him, and challenged his authority. He also enjoyed teasing her, touching her and fucking her.

You're not fucking her, his conscience snorted. You're making love to her. Some Dom you've turned into, it added with disgust.

Hmmm, he hummed, not at all concerned with his lovemaking style.

She made good use of her twenty private minutes, taking care of her personal needs, washing off the residue between her thighs, spotted the new toothbrush and paste and brushed her teeth. She ran her hands through her hair out of habit - there wasn't a comb or brush and after washing her face and hands, sat on the side of the tub and pondered her predicament. She wasn't used to constant nudity but this wasn't the time to feel sorry for herself.

Have to get away, but how?

He's going to let you go tomorrow night, her conscience reminded.

What will he do to me between now and then? her practical mind asked, concerned he might whip her after all - or worse.

You'll live, it said. If it's just lovemaking...

Just lovemaking? she snorted. With a perfect stranger who overwhelms me with his strength? Who spanks me? Who wants me to kneel? To call him Master?

If it's just lovemaking, you'll take it and enjoy it if you can. If it's worse, you know what to do to survive.

Compartmentalize it, she nodded.

Endure it, box it off and tuck it away. That's what you do with circumstances beyond your control.

I know, but sometimes, it's so hard.

He didn't knock, just opened the door and walked in and felt a sudden heaviness in his chest when he saw her. She was sitting on the side of the tub, softly crying.

Has she given up? his conscience asked.

I hope not.

"Coffee's hot," he said quietly, lifting her onto his chest, his lips brushing her face, catching a few of her tears with his tongue. "Do you want butter or jam on your toast?"

She couldn't see him clearly - her tears clouding her eyes, any words she might have said caught by the lump in her throat.

He held her on his lap in the little kitchen while he buttered her toast and offered it to her. "Say thank you for feeding me, Master."

She turned away as he knew she would.

"You're going to be very hungry," he said quietly, taking a bite of her toast, then grinned when her stomach growled.

"Say please, Master," he conceded.

She bit her lip.

"A sip of coffee?" he offered, putting the toast down and lifting the warm mug to her lips.

"Thank you," she murmured, the tears still falling as her hands reached for the hot drink.

He held the mug and let her take a few sips, then drew it away, offering the toast again. "Please, Master," he said the words he wanted to hear, holding it out of her reach.

She turned away again.

He put it down and cupped her cheek with a firm hand. "Are you always this stubborn?" no rancor in his tone.

She stared at him.

"You must have been a willful child. Anybody ever take a strap to you?"

She stared at him.

"Someone should have," he muttered and flipped her over his knees. "It's simple, sugar woman. Ask for the toast and it's yours. Otherwise, I'll make your ass burn."

She didn't say anything until his hand came down over her naked butt - one sharp slap. "You miserable son-of-a-bitch," she screamed as her fist pounded into his shin and when her dangling arms gained purchase around his knee, she yanked his leg as hard as she could, making him twist in the chair.

Her curse made him laugh but when she twisted his leg to the side, his reflexes took over. Tossing her over the small table, he intended to burn her butt until she begged for mercy. She hit the table with a belly slap and overturned the coffee, the hot brew instantly burning her upper arm and the side of a breast. Her cry was genuine and in seconds she was in his arms again, a cool cloth easing the pain of the burn.

"If you keep fighting me, I'll end up hurting you and both of us are going to be black and blue," he told her, his rage under control again. "And you're going to get the worst of it," he added, inspecting the red mark on the side of her breast.

"If you'd let me go..." she began.

"Not going to happen," he interrupted, dropping a kiss on her breast. "Not until tomorrow night, maybe never."

"If you'd stop spanking me..." she continued.

"Not going to happen," he said again. "You're willful, defiant, disobedient and not at all submissive. And then, there's your pretty ass," he grinned, pulling her mouth to his and kissing her, "It's absolutely beautiful and constantly begs me for attention. No way I can refuse a request like that."


"Hush, little one. Let's put some cream on these burns and see if that will ease the sting."

Again, she was surprised by his gentleness. His hands covered the spot on her upper arm with an ointment, instantly drawing the heat. When he stroked the small heated area on her breast, she gasped, though whether it was from the ointment or his hand, she wasn't sure. His thumb caught her nipple and he watched her face as he teased it. Bending his head, he drew it into his mouth and suckled gently, but when her hands gently touched his neck, pulling his head closer, he lifted her until she straddled his lap.

"Sit on me," he urged her. "Pull my cock out of my sweats and sit on me, sugar woman."

"After you feed me," she said quietly, expecting to be spanked again.

"Disobedient," he chuckled. "Not at all submissive. Far too independent."

"And hungry," she added.

He stood with her in his arms and took her back to bed, laying her in the middle and pulled her arms above her head. Cuffing her to the rails in the headboard, he stepped back to admire her body. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Think about how you're going to obey me when I return."

"Cock sucker," she muttered, her stomach growling again.

"Don't give me any ideas," he laughed, walking away.

He wasn't gone long. He spent a few minutes taking care of his own personal needs - brushing his teeth, shaving - then made breakfast for both of them.

"If you promise to behave, you can sit at the table and eat a hot meal. Otherwise, you can stay there and I'll hand feed you."

"Define behave."

He sat on the side of the bed and feasted his eyes on her, smiling at the picture she presented. Her arms above her head pushed her breasts out, the fullness attracting his hands, her nipples like ripe, sweet strawberries drawing his mouth. Her ribs were clearly defined, her waist nicely indented and her full round hips were a reason to sing glory. With one knee bent, the other leg stretched out, her smoothly shaven mound was rounder, fuller and very sexy, he thought. Erotic and wanton and she doesn't even know it.

"Behave," he lectured, "means to eat without trying to inflict damage on some part of my body. It means I am allowing you to sit at the table without asking permission to eat. It means I will allow you to be my equal. It means I will not require you to kneel or to call me Master or Sir." He cupped her chin firmly and glared at her. "But only for the length of the meal and then, I will demand your obedience."

She had to bite her lip not to retort, certain he'd blister her ass if she did.

He waited, watched her compress her lips, clearly understanding her emotional conflict. He wondered if he could prod her hot temper to resurface. "Good girl," he smiled, tweaking her nipple. "You're quiet now, waiting for your Master's next command. I knew you were a submissive at heart. I'll have you well trained in no time."

"You goddamned son-of-a-bitch," she hissed and pulled her legs back to kick him in the chest.

"Christ, you're so predictable!" he laughed, grabbing her legs and parting them, pushing them against her chest, her sex spread open to his eyes. "And beautiful, too," he murmured, dropping kisses on her exposed folds, making her shiver from his touch. He held her steady while he indulged his mouth, stimulating her clit, licking her dew and then he stood, released her hands and brought her to her feet.

"Time to eat, sugar woman," he pulled her to the small kitchen and made her sit with her back against the wall, barring her escape. "Have to get some food in you so you have enough energy for more training and some playtime."

"I don't consider this play," she glared at him.

"I do," he grinned, handing her a plate of toast and eggs. "And when we're through eating, I'm going to spend the rest of the day playing with you."

She arched a brow at his words but stuffed her mouth with toast before he took it away.

"I haven't forgotten that your ass needs my attention," he added, pouring more coffee into two mugs, watching her stuff her mouth. "Slow down, I want you to eat every bite."

"Why?" she asked, holding both pieces of toast in her hands, afraid to leave them unattended.

"Because unless you're good, that's all you're getting until tomorrow."

"You'd starve me?" she glared, not really concerned.

"Might," he grinned, "but don't worry. You'll be thoroughly spanked and thoroughly fucked regardless."

Quietly, he watched her eat every bite on her plate, his eyes on her mouth as he ate his own meal. She seemed oblivious to her beauty, her breasts swaying as she brought the fork to her mouth, her nipples soft now. He was ready to make them hard again. When she swallowed the last of her meal, she looked at him, as silent as she had been throughout the meal.

"Finished?" he asked politely, looking at her empty plate.

She didn't respond.

"I'm still hungry," he told her and pulled her up and into his arms, his mouth nipping her throat and leaving another mark. "I'm going to fill my mouth with you."

~ End Part Four ~

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