Work Text:
The rope tied around her wrists was tight enough that she could feel it scratch against her skin with each slight movement; it wasn't a rough rope, but it would leave a mark, like she wanted it to.
He stood over her, his eyes dark as they raked over her naked body, taking in the beautiful sight that was her, tied up and waiting for him to touch her, to use her. “Are you going to behave, bitch?” He asked, his voice low.
“Yes,” she nodded quickly, only for her head to be stopped by his hand, gripping harshly and holding her still, in place.
“Fucking. Answer. Me. Properly.” Each word was punctuated by a harsh slap to the side of her face, her cheek stinging red hot and tears welling in her eyes. His grip then tightened on her jaw, his nails digging into the skin there, leaving crescent shaped indents.
Through shaky breaths, she managed to speak, although her voice was almost a whisper. “Yes, sir, I'm going to behave.”
His hand fell from her face. “See, that wasn't so difficult now, was it sweetheart?” His voice was syrupy - the kind of tone that sent a shiver through her and made the fire in her abdomen burn brighter and hotter.
Down her sides, there was an almost prickling sensation as he ran his hands down her body. Dragging his nails over her soft skin, he left long red marks - four almost perfectly parallel lines running from just below her armpits down to her ankles. And as he did this, her body arched upwards with a sharp intake of breath.
The tears still threatened to fall, yet the stinging of her cheek had faded to a dull sensation despite the redness persisting, and the nail marks on her jaw had faded to faint impressions.
“Oh baby,” he mocked. “Are you going to cry? Does it hurt?”
He held her hips in a bruising grip, holding her down. She whimpered at the pressure and nodded, squeezing her eyes shut.
“It does? Aww, poor baby’s being hurt.” He pressed harder, nails cutting into her.
“Fuck,” she shouted out, her voice shaking and her body jerking in his hold. “Fuck, I’m going to cum- I’m going to cum-” Tears flowed freely down her flushed cheeks as she babbled, sobs wracking through her.
He let out a short laugh, a mixture of amusement and disbelief. “I’ve barely touched you,” he teased, keeping his harsh grip on her, watching as her body shook beneath him, desperation and heat building within her. “You’re such a pain slut.”
“Please, Sir, please, Daddy, fuck,” a string of desperate words spilled from her lips, her whole body flushed pink.
“Daddy? Are you so needy now that I'm Daddy?”
“Please,” she cried, her voice thick as she fought back a sob. “I need to cum, Sir.”
His smile was mean, his fingers lightly tracing over her hot skin, a teasing tickle that made her whimper. “Oh you need to, do you? What about what I want? What if I don’t want you to? What if I don’t need you to?”
She couldn't speak, all she could offer was a loud sob, her eyes scrunching shut as she fought against her own body - she was already so close and his words, his touch, pushed her closer and closer to orgasm.
“Shh, sweetheart, you're doing so good for me,” he murmured against her, letting his lips graze over her cheeks, tasting her salty tears. “I need you to cum for me, baby; be a good girl and cum for Daddy.”
The permission mixed with the sudden praise ripped her orgasm out of her. A loud scream filled the room as she shook, as she came, a wetness spreading onto the sheets beneath her. He watched in awe as she struggled in her restraints and as her climax completely took over her mind and body.
Her breaths came sharp and fast, her heart beating rapidly against her ribs, and his hand slowly pressed against her red cheek, his thumb moving in a gentle circular motion. “So good for me.” He pressed a kiss to the raw skin of each bound wrist, just below the ropes. “My pretty girl.”
The intensity in the room shifted immediately as the peak of her climax began to recede, leaving her limbs heavy and her skin tingling with a residual, hypersensitive heat. The harshness that had commanded the room just moments ago dissolved into the quiet, heavy atmosphere of the afterglow.
He remained positioned over her, but the bruising grip on her hips relaxed, his palms smoothing over the marks he had left behind as if grounding her back into reality. Her chest rose and fell in ragged, uneven rhythm, the sharp contrast of his sudden gentleness making her press her head back into the pillows, letting out a long, shuddering sigh.
“Look at me,” he commanded softly, the rough edge entirely gone from his voice, replaced by a quiet authority.
She blinked her eyes open, her vision still slightly blurred by the tears that had tracked down her temples. His expression was no longer mean or teasing; it was dark with a different kind of intensity - one of complete possession and satisfaction.
“You did perfectly,” he murmured, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to the center of her forehead, right between her brows. His fingers trailed down to her jaw, tracing the faint indents his nails had left earlier, his touch now entirely devoid of pain. “So beautiful when you're completely undone for me.”
She swallowed hard, her voice still trapped somewhere in her throat, a faint whimper escaping her lips at the praise. The contrast of the sting still humming on her cheek against the cool air of the room made her crave his warmth again. She shifted her bound wrists slightly, the rope dragging against her skin, a quiet reminder of her confinement.
“Are you still with me, sweetheart?” he asked, his thumb catching a stray tear at the corner of her eye.
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her breathing finally beginning to slow.
He smiled, a genuine, slow curve of his lips, and reached up to begin unfastening the tight knots at her wrists, preparing to tend to the marks they had made.