7 Spanking Hard (2/2)
”No!”
I try to get up, but he easily holds me down. Elias brings the strap to Mattias, and I feel the deceptively gentle touch of the leather over my heated cheeks as he lays it across my bottom, letting me feel the implement.
”I know you are wild,” he says. ”And I know you are not used to doing as you are told. But now, you must. There is too much at stake for you not to. Too much possible pain coming to you if you do not become obedient.”
With that, he lifts the leather tongues away and brings them back down in a wicked slap that feels nothing like his hand did. His palm brought ache and sting. This strap delivers pure fire blazing across my skin.
”Ow! Ow, goddammit!”
He straps me sternly, keeping my body pressed down over his knees. This is embarrassing, and somewhat painful. Not as painful as the time I slipped down a gorge and impaled myself on a stick, but pretty painful.
And that is how things go for several long, painful minutes. He straps me. I cry and writhe and try to escape, but he knows how to hold a girl down and punish her, and try as I might to get away, I can't.
The pain stops being even remotely pleasurable and turns to hurt. The terrible trauma of the day rushes in, the fright I suppressed when I suddenly found myself at the mercy of hundreds of men, and then the slight relief at being taken into custody.
Mattias' whip reminds me of all of it, of what could have happened to me, and of what still will. Somebody will own me. Somebody will breed me like farmers used to breed cattle. I am a beast now, an animal for use. This man who holds the leather is tanning my hide and taking my humanity with it.
By the time he is done, I am sobbing. Not because it hurts, though it does. I am crying for all I have lost and all I will lose if I don't manage to escape. I don't want to be part of this world, where women are owned and bred. I want the wide spaces outside the walls. I want the home I grew up in, even though it is smaller than this fine bedroom I find myself trapped in now. I want my freedom.
As I cry inconsolably, Mattias eases me off his lap and into the bed. The sheets are smooth and cool on my naked body and hot bottom. He draws just one of them over me, enough to give me a little modesty, and he rubs my back as I snivel pathetically in the bed that is so much more comfortable than mine, but isn't mine.
I should be running right now. I should be climbing the walls and testing the windows. I should be working on escape. I don't, because I have no choice, because this compound is the most tightly guarded location in the state, because I have been taken so thoroughly captive, spanked so hard, made so miserable that I am too tired, too exhausted, and too confused to even begin to make an escape.