26 That Hurt, Didnst I (2/2)

This is a battle of wills, but it is a battle I have no chance of winning. I am battling my own threshold for pain. Tore could do this forever, I am sure, so all I am doing is making it hurt me worse before it stops.

”Please, sir! Stop!”

I scream the words. It stops.

It stops, and I burst into tears, because his stopping has done absolutely nothing to stop the pain. That sears on even in the absence of the spanking, my thighs and ass burning and tingling.

Strong arms wrap around me, pull me up against Tore's chest. He cradles me, one arm underneath my knees, one around my back and he holds me close, murmuring soft, comforting words to me.

”It's over now, Trissa,” he murmurs. ”It's done, little girl. You learned your lesson, didn't you.”

I don't know if I've learned anything. I am tearful and sobbing, and I am afraid. But I still bury my head into the crook of his neck and I let him comfort me, those same hands that whipped me into screaming whimpers now helping to soothe the sting away.

It takes long minutes for my tears to abate. When they do, I find myself cowering in the arms of yet another strange man in a long line of strange men who have laid claim to me only by merit of the fact they are men.

”It hurts,” I whimper.

”I know,” Tore says. ”It hurts more than it had to, but remember this, so it doesn't have to hurt again.”

So all I have to do is whatever they say, and it won't hurt. But I don't want to. I don't want to be obedient. I don't want to submit to this. I wasn't raised to submit.

He eases me back from his body so he can look down into my shameful, tear-filled eyes. I can't meet his. Can't look at him. Can't stand to see what he did to me, written on his face.

I bow my head and hide myself from him, and from the others. I can feel their eyes on me, looking at me as I cower. I hate this. I hate how it hurts. I hate how small I feel. I am cracked, beginning to break. If I can't get control of myself, I might fall apart completely.

This is terrifying. Men are frightening. When I was alone, I used to imagine what being with one would be like. I never considered it would be like this. I never understood how much more powerful they are, how demanding they can be. I never knew how the muscles I used to hunt, to survive, would suddenly feel so inadequate and weak in comparison to theirs. There is no fighting Tore, or any of the others. Pulling, kicking, twisting, none of it worked. He is so much stronger than I am, to the point I may as well not fight at all.

”Did I do too much?” I hear Tore whisper the question to one of the others.

”She's okay. She's not hurt. She's probably never been disciplined before, wild little thing.”

Pharaoh plucks me off Tore's lap. His large hands slip beneath my arms and he holds me up before him in all my red-bottomed, naked shame.

”That hurt, didn't it.” It's a flat statement, but I answer it like a question.