Purpose: A Kylo Ren Tale

Thirteen

I'm kneeling, hands resting in my lap, waiting.

"I can sense what you want. The dark desires you harbor. Do you consent to exploring them with me?"

No hesitation, "Yes, Sir."

A sinister smile crosses his face, but then he's all business.

"Birth control?"

"I have an implant, Sir."

"Tell me your limits. What are your hard no's?"

"I have none, Sir."

I want him to use my body however he wants. I want him to act without hesitation. I want to know that he isn't holding back at any point. I want it to hurt.

"Tell me your safe word."

"Onyx."

"Excuse me?"

"Onyx, Sir."

And with that, the contract for the evening has been established. I have signed a deal with the devil, agreeing to let Kylo Ren control me how he sees fit. And although I'm the submissive, I still wield the ultimate control in the situation. If I utter the safe word, he has to stop no matter what. Holding that power over him is intoxicating.

With this particular man, I want to feel used. With some partners, I've been the one in control. Different people call for different vibes. I almost chuckle thinking of how I'm a switch Witch.

But I don't laugh. I stay present in this moment.

"Let's begin. Strip."

I pull my dress up over my head and I'm left kneeling in nothing but a black lace thong. He walks circles around me, examining my near naked figure. One finger trails along different parts of my body, following the slopes of my curves. It sends a shiver down my spine and straight between my thighs.

He stops behind me, and I do not turn to look at him.

I know better.

My senses sharpen. I hear the soft sound of rustling fabric, and it seems like maybe he has removed his shirt. And then I hear the clinking of metal and I know he's taking off his belt.

The next sound makes my cunt throb.

The sharp snap of leather.

He finally walks back into my line of sight and he's mesmerizing. Bare chest, thick body, strong muscles, wearing only pants and boots, leather belt in his grasp.

He holds the belt in his right hand, and snaps it against his opposing palm again. I know I'm soaking wet already. And I know he can hit a lot harder than that.

He sits on the couch.

"Up. Over my lap."

I stand from the floor, dutifully drape my body across his. My forearms and knees are propping me up on either side his lap and I'm holding my weight, but he's so large that he's almost flush against my body anyway. I can feel the growing erection in his pants starting to press against my bare breasts.

He places his left hand on my shoulder blade and then slowly starts making his way down my back. His fingers glide along every vertebrae and then the lace of my panties. He's soft and delicate with the fabric. It's lovely.

And then I remember the belt in his dominant hand.

"You will count out loud. I will not continue until I hear the number. Understood?"

I've played this game before.

"Yes, S-"

[WHACK]

He allows me enough time to consent to the exercise, but doesn't have the patience for anything else. I hear the sound before I feel the sensation. One side of my ass is slightly stinging. It wasn't that rough, and I know he's warming me up.

"One."

He continues like this, back and forth across opposite sides, until we reach five.

[WHACK]

He has obviously dialed things up, because this one makes my breath catch in my throat. I know I have red marks all over my backside already. But I'm not near my limit yet so I count.

"Five."

[WHACK]

"Six."

[WHACK]

He increases the intensity again, and I've stopped propping myself up. I allow my body to fully lay across his lap. I can hear each of his ragged breaths and he's so fucking hard beneath me. I'm in an exposed vulnerable position, but I still savor the power I have over his desire, his manhood.

We continue on and on.

[WHACK]

"Twelve," I count, now with small tears in the corners of my eyes.

He hits me harder. 

[WHACK]

I gasp and lurch forward, his free hand grabs my waist to keep me in place. It's the first time I've paused in my counting. There is silence for a few seconds. But I continue.

"Thirteen," I cry.

He hits me harder. 

[WHACK]

"Fourteen," I sob.

He hits me harder, which I can't believe is even possible at this point.

[WHACK]

I let out a guttural sound that is both pleasure and pain, just like the feelings pulsing through my lower half. I know there will be welts. I can feel the bruises forming already. I'm clutching onto the couch for dear life, my head hanging down, and my knees are slightly trembling. I know that if I stay silent, he won't continue this game. But I'm determined to win. He hasn't broken me, yet. I want to show him how strong I am.

"Fifteen," I finally croak through tears.

"Such a good girl," he replies.

I hear him put down the belt and I know he's done. He's satisfied with the fact that I would have allowed him to continue if he felt like it. He's turned on by my eagerness to please. Rough hands tenderly massage the wounds he's inflicted, in appreciation. It stings but it's soothing.

He pulls me up from his lap and onto my knees next to him on the couch. He stands and kicks off his boots. Picking me up easily, he throws me over his shoulder like a rag doll. I send him a wave of appreciation, because my legs are goners at the moment. The top half of my body is slung over his shoulder, my bare chest pressed against his bare back.

He walks us to my room.

I'm thrown onto the bed, face down.

I hear him removing his pants.

I'm laying on my stomach, the plush blankets are soft and cool. And then I feel his hot, hard body crawling over top of mine. Fuck. He's naked. I could die.

His hard cock is pressed against my bruised, throbbing ass. He lowers himself so that he's flush against my body, but props himself so his weight doesn't crush me. One of his hands travels up and down the curves of my figure while I silently savor the feeling of so much skin on skin.

Eventually he gets on his knees behind me and grabs my waist. He pulls me up onto my own knees, with my chest and face still pressed to the bed.

He spreads my legs further apart.

I wait patiently.