Craving: A Kylo Ren Tale

Twenty-Three

It doesn't take long for Kylo to snap me back to reality.

After a morning of being showered with affection and attention, my mind forgets the way the game truly works. I'm blissfully unaware of how quickly things can change when he tells me to put on one of the new lingerie sets.

I choose a black bra with mesh cups, lace thong and garter belt set. I'm still riding the high of our shopping trip, my body prickling with anticipation for his touch and more affection.

When I meet him in his painting studio, as instructed, he's setting up a blank canvas on his easel. I saunter into the room, confident that he'll enjoy the outfit I've picked.

"Tell me your safe words," he commands, while his attention is focused on choosing different paints for his palette.

"Yellow and red, Sir," I dutifully reply.

I await his instruction near the doorway. He gets his work station ready, for what I'm not sure. When he finally turns to face me, I expect to see lust filled eyes and a hungry mouth.

I'm wrong.

His gaze moves up and down my body wrapped in the expensive lace he's purchased. I thought he would like what I was wearing, but his face almost looks... annoyed?

"Such a little whore. Look at you. Spending my fucking money to look like that," he spits.

At first I shrink, remembering how he used to make me feel like mere dust on the ground. But the more he insults me, the more I'm ashamed to feel the pulse of desire between my legs.

"I-"

"Shut up, mouse. What a waste of my hard earned money, spent on a slut like you. You think you deserve presents? What have you done to earn them?"

I remind myself that he wouldn't have asked for my safe words if this wasn't a game. But I don't want to utter them, I want him to keep breaking me down. I hate myself for how much I'm enjoying this. Every verbal blow sends an electric current straight to my cunt.

"I'll do anything, Sir," and I mean that.

He grabs me by the wrist, yanks me in front of his canvas. I'm standing before him, clad only in the expensive lingerie. Waiting.

When he lifts his strong hands to my breasts, at first he's soft. Caressing my nipples through the mesh. But just as quickly as it started, it's over in a flash. Without warning he tears the fabric to shreds.

"I liked this one!" I groan, without thinking.

The punishment is swift. His open hand meets my cheek with a crack. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to remind me of my place. My pussy clenches with desire.

I should be appalled by this treatment, but it's the opposite. I almost complain again to receive another blow. But instead I stand tall before him, breasts exposed through tattered fabric, wetness pooling between my thighs.

"Anything? We'll see about that. Get on all fours," he commands.

I swiftly do as he says, dropping to the wood floor, and he directs me to position myself so that he has a side view of my body. When he leaves the room, I don't dare move. Minutes go by, but I keep my body posed exactly as he left it.

When he returns I tilt my head ever so slightly to see him towering above me.

"Let's see how long you last, hmm?"

I'm still on my hands and knees, wearing lace undergarments and a shredded bra. Exposed, vulnerable. When I feel him place the candles along my spine, his game becomes crystal clear. As he lights the wicks, I know exactly where this is headed.