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I nodded, inhaling deeply, letting the breath fill my lungs, steadying myself. The next strike came, and I let out a sharp cry, my body trembling, my mind spinning with the intensity of it all. But even as the pain spiked, I felt a rush of heat flood through me, a need so deep and powerful it took my breath away.
“That’s my good girl,” he purred, bringing the belt down again, the leather snapping against my skin with a fierce crack. I moaned, my body arching against the sheets, every nerve alive with sensation, with need.
The strikes came faster now, the leather biting into my skin with an intensity that left me gasping, panting, trembling beneath him. But with every stroke, I felt something shift inside me, a surrender, a release, a need that grew deeper, more desperate, with each strike.
I could feel Massimo’s breath against my ear, hot and heavy, his voice a dark, seductive whisper. “That’s it, Sofia… Let go. Let me take you there.”
And with one final, searing stroke, I felt the tension snap inside me, my body trembling with release, my cries filling the room. I was lost, completely and utterly lost to him, to the sensation, to the power of his touch, and I never wanted to be found.
My skin was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with a mixture of pain and pleasure so intense it was dizzying. The room seemed to spin around me, the only steady thing the feel of Massimo’s hands pinning me down, his breath hot and ragged against my ear.
He lifted the belt again, the leather brushing over my already burning skin, and I felt a fresh wave of anticipation flood through me. I was panting, my body trembling under his touch, but I wanted more—I needed more.
More than anything, I needed to come.
Without warning, he shifted his aim lower. The next strike landed across the backs of my thighs, a sharp, stinging crack that made me cry out, my body jolting with the impact. The pain wasfierce, a line of fire that spread up my legs, but behind it was that same delicious ache, that same rush of pleasure that made my breath catch in my throat.
Massimo growled low in his throat, a sound filled with utter satisfaction.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “So beautiful,bella… your skin welted from my belt… wearing my mark so perfectly.”
His words sent a thrill through me, a flush of heat spreading over my already heated skin. He brought the belt down again, another sharp strike across my thighs, and I gasped, my fingers digging into the sheets as I struggled to hold still, to stay obedient.
“You take it so well,” he complimented, his tone laced with dark approval.
The belt struck again, a little harder, and I let out a soft whimper, my body shuddering beneath his touch. His words, his voice, the sheer power of him—it was all too much, too overwhelming. But I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted to feel every bit of what he was giving me, to let it take me over completely.
“Do you know how beautiful you look like this?” he whispered, his hand caressing the red marks now blooming on my skin.
I moaned softly, the sensation of his fingers on my heated skin a perfect counterpoint to the sting of the belt. “Sir…” I breathed, my voice trembling, my body aching for more.
He chuckled darkly, a pleased sound that sent shivers through me. “You love it, don’t you,la mia bambina?” he asked in ateasing whisper. “You love wearing my marks… feeling my hand on you, my belt against your skin…”
“Yes,” I gasped, the word torn from my lips before I could think.
He brought the belt down again, and I cried out, my body arching against the sheets, my skin burning with the intensity of his touch.
“That’s it,” he growled, his voice filled with raw desire. “Show me… show me how much you love it.”
The next strike was fierce, the leather biting into the sensitive skin of my thighs, and I let out a sharp cry, my fingers clutching the sheets so tightly I thought they might tear. But the pain was exquisite, mingling with the pleasure, making my head spin, my body tremble with need.
Massimo’s hand stayed on my lower back, steadying me, holding me still as the belt came down again, and again, each stroke leaving a line of fire on my skin. But with every strike, I felt myself sinking deeper, falling further under his spell, my mind blank, my body lost to the sensation.
“That’s my good girl.”
I felt tears prick at my eyes, not from pain, but from the sheer intensity of the moment, the power of his words, his touch, his control over me. My heart pounded in my chest, my body already trembling from the relentless sting that burned across my thighs and bottom. But I didn’t want him to stop—not yet. I needed to feel more of him, to take everything he was willing to give.
He brought the belt down again, the leather cutting through the air with a sharp, decisive crack. I cried out, the pain searingthrough me, my body jolting with the force of it. My breath came in ragged gasps, my skin on fire, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of each strike.
“That’s it,bella,” he murmured, his voice thick with approval, dark and low. “Take it for me… show me how strong you are.”
His words sent a thrill through me, pushing me to endure more, to hold still under the fierce, unyielding rhythm of the belt. The strikes came faster now, harder, the sound of leather against skin echoing through the room. I whimpered, my body shuddering with every blow, but I didn’t move, didn’t try to escape. I stayed where he had put me, offering myself to him, surrendering completely.
Massimo shifted his aim lower again, the belt striking the tender skin at the tops of my thighs. I gasped, my fingers clutching the sheets, my body arching against the sting. The pain was fierce, a white-hot line of fire that radiated up through me, but it was also intoxicating, a sensation that filled me with a raw, desperate need.
He brought the belt down again, even harder, and a sharp cry tore from my lips. Tears pricked at my eyes, blurring my vision as I struggled to stay still, to keep taking everything he was giving. The strikes landed fast and hard, each one pushing me closer to my limit, my body quaking with the effort of holding on.
The tears spilled over, hot and wet on my cheeks, but I didn’t care. I wanted to please him, to show him that I could take it, that I was his in every way that mattered.