Dear Diary

23 🔥

I just breath, hoping he doesn't do it again. My toes curl as his thumb slides back down. It teases at the hole, but he he doesn't push it any further in.

"How much teasing do you think until you start crying? An hour? Two? Why are you still so desperate after you finished last night?" I whimper as he pushes the tip of his thumb in but immediately pulls back out. Is this punishment for that? The urge to squeeze my thighs together is overwhelming. He moves to rubbing my clit slowly.

"We know I'm immune to your begging. Should we test tears?"

"You have no empathy. Nothing would work I know know that." I say trying so hard to stay still, but when he pulls away again my hips can't help but follow, and I earn myself another slap.

This time, a quiet noise escapes me, a little groan.

He grabs my hips pulling them back up after getting off me. He grabs them in a punishing manner, and I don't think my wrists are the only thing that will be bruised.

"Mhm, where were we?" My wrists are free but when I try to push up he hits me in the same spot so hard my mouth actually drops open as I let out a strangled cry.

"Don't." He says as his hand still rests on me. My breathing is heavy, my thighs sticky with arousal. I shut my eyes fighting against the tears threatening to fall. I can't possibly be turned on my this. It's wrong, it has to be.

He finally pushes his thumb inside, hooking it in a way that makes me moan. I let out a sigh wanting to move my hips against his still hand.

His other hand still on my hips, pulls me into him more when his two finger replace his thumb. He pushes against my cervix and I need squirm, my hands grubbing the sheets as I try to tell him to stop the feeling too over whelming.

When I stay still, groans leaving me he pulls out a little, "Good girl. Now I want you to do the same thing but this time you'll hold yourself there on your own understand?"

Is he joking? I shake my head no, relishing the feeling of his fingers pushing in and out slowly.

"I won't ask again." He warns. He pushes his fingers and waits as I push myself back, gripping the sheets an agonizing moan leaving me. His fingers are longer then some men's penises and are pushing at a spot that makes it almost unbearable. I keep myself there though against my instincts to pull back forward.

When he pulls them away I sigh but he abruptly shoves them back to that spot over and over, hard, his hand on my hip assisting him. "Please," I say but it's useless.

"Quiet now, don't want to interrupt Harleys work do you?" I forgot she was even here. My cheeks pink in embarrassment.

He flips me back on to my front, grabs under my arms and throws me further up the bed. Taking the hand cuffs, he forces my wrists into them and attaching them to the frame of the bed. My wrists are still raw from last night, and I don't try to pull them away in the fear that'll hell tug me down again like he did yesterday.

I'm panting from the effort it takes to try and shove him off me, but also from the arousal.

"You belong to me Alice."

I shake my head. He goes to his nightstand and pulls out a slightly thin leather strap. Turning it, I see a metal gold loop on the front and my eyes widen. "Axton what are you doing?"

"Maybe you need a physical reminder."

"Your not putting a fucking collar on me."

"Think of it as a choker. That represents my ownership of you."

"So a collar?" I start to struggle in the cuffs as he comes closer. The sight of it- the idea- I can't help the arousal but I know it's wrong. I'm a feminist. I shouldn't like this. He's pushing it. I didn't write about this.

"You want to finish? You'll have it on."

"I'm not a dog."

"Don't think of it like a collar Alice. It just represents ownership."

I inhale through my nose, but I think what makes me stay quiet is the fact that this is the first thing I know he's into. And I haven't exactly asked those kind of questions, always just assuming he liked what I liked. Which I have no doubt is true but I make a mental note to ask about it later. He smirks down at me when it's on.

"You seem to like it. No more fight, slave?" He smiles wickedly.

It's fine he's done. Or so I thought. Apparently he doesn't like my zero to no reaction because he pulls at the back and chokes me, my eyes widening.

"Fucking answer me." He says.

"I- don't like it. Sir. Please take it off." My cheeks burn with embarrassment. I can't like this, I can't.

"Lying are we?" His hand finds itself between my legs again and I'm too late to close them shut. He smirks. "Whore. I knew you were dirty but... didn't picture this much. What would other people think, hm?"

"Stop." I shut my eyes. His fingers slam into me.

"Fucking look at me Alice."

I whimper as my eyes open, and he keeps a steady, hard pace.

"Tomorrow, you'll wear a low cut top to show my cuts on you. And a crop top to show off the lovely bruises marking your hips, and wrists."

"No, no please." I beg. I can't go to school like that. People will think I've been assaulted for gods sake.

"You'll find I can be very persistent." He says. "Why are you so wet Alice?"

I close my eyes again turning my head but he slaps me grabbing my chin to turn it facing him.

"What the fuck did I say?" He says loudly, and I suddenly remember Harley again in the next room.

"Because- because you're touching me. Sir." I whisper.

"I'm sorry what was that? Don't you dare lie to me again."

"Because you're acting dominant sir, and it turns me on," I say still quietly.

"Hm. And so if this is true then why did you struggle? The logical reason please."

I stare for a minute. "I don't know."

"Don't you?"

"Please," I say and my body starts to arch into him. "Stop, I can't think," I try to pull my chin away.

"You're face is so cute when it's all pink like this."

"Shut up."

"Then answer the question."

"Well, because," I pretend to think again but really just not wanting to say it.

He slaps me again, " because I want you to be mean! And I like it when you say you own me.." I yell but say the last part quieter. And in that moment finish as well. I'm in ecstasy as he keeps going smiling, knowing he's won.