By number five I was struggling to catch my breath.

And ten came so soon after it felt like I’d inhaled a single time between the first and the last.

I had tears running down my face, and the bench below me was covered from my pussy leaking all over it. I didn’t even understand why I was crying. Maybe it was the sheer embarrassment of being at his mercy, or maybe the helplessness I felt when he made me come again and again without a single touch.

He’d moved to stand a few feet away from me, making me come on command or just watching me unable to help myself and mess up the leather between my legs some more. His cock had been throbbing in his fist since my first orgasm, its engorged end so red it almost looked purple as he jerked it faster and faster.

“Ten,” I whispered, my body so tense it felt like my arms weren’t even my own anymore. “Thank you.”

“Good fucking girl, halfway there.” His voice was closer to a growl. “Fuck, Evangeline, I can’t just watch you anymore, I just fucking can’t, I’m sorry.”

He came closer to me, and with his cock drenched in precum just an inch away from my hungry lips, I began to understand why this was a punishment.

“Please,” I begged him. “I want to taste you, please. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” he asked roughly, still not touching me.

My eyes zeroed in on his beautiful cock, the tip of it so wet it was dripping to the floor. Clear, sticky precum all over his cock, made me cry out in frustration. I wanted him. I’d do anything for him. I was blind with lust.

“Anything,” I repeated. “Anything, everything, I promise, I’ll give you everything.”

He was next to me in a second, and my lips parted in a soft moan. He pushed inside my mouth, just the tip, and my eyes rolled back to look up at him. He held his cock at the base, his other hand in my hair, having total control of how much I got to swallow.

“Come,” he told me, and I did, on the spot, with the heady taste of him on my tongue.

“Eleven,” I said, but it was muffled by his cock in my mouth, and so was my thank you.

He growled as he pushed deeper. He plugged my throat with his cock and I gagged.

“You feel so good,” he told me, holding me still. “Keep fucking coming for me Evangeline, and keep fucking counting. I have to fuck your throat now, I’m sorry. Just take it, okay? Be a good girl and take it for me.”

I took him in even, fighting against the gagging. My mouth had never felt so full, and he stretched me so wide I could feel him inside my throat. I wondered if he could see it from where he was standing, his cock so deep inside me it probably throbbed visibly from the outside.

He pulled my hair and my head snapped back, and he watched the bulge in my throat grow and throb. I came again. Once, twice, three times, just feeling him like that, rubbing all over the bench with my pussy making sounds I should’ve been ashamed of; the once cool leather now hot and drenched from my needy cunt.

I counted every single one, even though my words and my moans were coming out muffled.

He stroked my hair and I could feel the moment he got lost inside me. The moment his eyes went glassy, his fingers tugged harder, and his cock throbbed without a pause, ready to unload inside me.

“Good girl,” he said again. “I have to come now, Angel, swallow it up. Swallow me down your throat, I want you to love this as much as I know I will, little Angel.”

And then there was nothing but his cock spurting cum down my throat, my mouth swallowing needily, and my pussy coming all over the bench as I forgot to count the last orgasms, one after the other as I drank him up, feeling him run down my throat and warming me up from the inside.

He held on tightly to the back of my head and filled me up. I didn’t even realize I could barely breathe. I just wanted more, and I swallowed so greedily I kept choking on his cum. He held my chin back and made me take it, drop by drop until my mouth was empty, and he slipped his cock out with a pop.

I couldn’t even move, unsure whether I was coming again or still from the last time. My mouth fell open and I dribbled down my own heaving chest. My arms hurt so much I wanted to scream, but the pleasure was stronger. The pleasure was everything.

“Jesus,” Carter breathed, taking a step back. “Fuck, little girl, you’re a damn vision like that…”

I raised my head towards him, and my voice was raspy when I spoke.

“Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen…” I cried out as I came again, and my pussy clenched. It hurt now, every orgasm hurt more than the one before, but at the same time, I craved more of them, even though they made me cry. “Eighteen. Nineteen.”

We stared at each other, my breath catching, his cock getting hard again as he stared at me.

“Let me down,” I begged. “Thank you, but please let me down now.”

“One more,” he said, almost as if in a trance. “Just one more, little Angel, just one more, I promise. I’ll let you down then, I’ll carry you back to bed. I’ll take care of you, I promise, anything you want…”

“One more,” I repeated. “Just one more, promise no more after that, no more tonight, please.”

“No more,” he nodded, coming closer. “I promise, little Angel, I promise no more. Just this last one.”

I started crying helplessly, crying because it felt so good and it hurt so much. It was the worst punishment he’d given me, and the one I knew I’d keep craving for the rest of my life.

It made me forget everything. Forget why I hated him and his family, forget about my own. There was nothing but him and myself, nothing but making him come and submitting, nothing but his spurting cock and my drenched pussy.

“I wonder,” he said. “How I should make you come now…”

His fingers lingered above my skin, never touching me. I wanted to scream, tell him to either leave me alone or just make me do it. Make me have the final one so I could finally leave the room and go to bed. My eyes were closing, my legs shaking so badly I kept getting cramps in my thighs. I wanted to stop. I wanted to leave. I hated him almost more than I wanted him.

Almost.

“I think I know,” he whispered in my ear, and I strained against the rope when I felt his breath tickling my skin. “I think I know just what you deserve, little girl.”

He walked away from me then, and turned off the only light in the room. I howled. Not just cried out, I howled like an animal when he left me in darkness and opened the door of the playroom.

“I’ll be back, little Angel,” he promised me. “Make sure you don’t come while I’m gone.”

He left and locked the door behind him, and I screamed at him at the top of my lungs.

This was why I hated him.

This was why I was going to destroy him.

***

At first, I was just angry.

It must’ve been at least twenty minutes of absolute wrath before I tried to get myself off.

And I tried everything. I rubbed my pussy all over the bench I was sitting on, I tried to get off from the friction, but all it resulted in were some sobs I desperately tried to hold back, because I didn’t want to admit defeat.

This man had ignited something inside me.

If anyone had told me about what he’d done to me, I would never have believed them.

Twenty orgasms in only one hour – it was insane. It was impossible. Unheard of.

Until it happened to me. Until I had the aching, dripping wet pussy to prove it.

I started crying after what felt like hours. Not heavy sobs, just tears of absolute surrender falling down my face. When I couldn’t cry anymore, I stopped struggling against the ropes. I just sat there and accepted the pain. And I waited for him to come back, and give me my final orgasm.

I finally understood the punishment.

I didn’t even look up when I heard the lock turning.

I was too scared it was another part of my punishment.

And once I did look up, I realized it was.

The maid I’d met a few days earlier sat down next to my feet. She wouldn’t meet my eyes, and her cheeks were blushed so deeply she could barely look at me. She had a small bucket of water with her, and she wet a fluffy looking towel in the soapy water, bringing it up to my legs.

I shrank back from her touch, my thighs jumping up and down uncontrollably as she started to clean them off. The cotton felt thick and raspy against my skin, and I breathed a sigh of relief as she washed my legs, all the stickiness coming off with ease when it made contact with water.

I got an idea when she touched my inner thighs, and I stared at her hard, trying to understand what kind of game Carter was playing. Neither of us spoke. I think we were both too afraid to.

I stared at her scar, puckering up over her beautiful face so grotesquely. I only stared for a moment, but she seemed to notice. She glared at me for a second, and I felt more ashamed than ever before in my life.

Maybe he’d sent her to get me off. Maybe this was finally it.

I tried to open my legs more, but every time I did, she evaded the spot between them that ached the most. She ignored it, ignored my whimpers and then my frustrated cries, and just cleaned off my legs and the bench until they were both pristine.

And then she got up with her damn bucket and walked out of there without saying a simple word. I was about to scream again when I looked up, and saw them cross paths at the door.

They looked at each other, sharing an intimate moment I couldn’t understand. His hand lingered on her forearm, and I felt jealousy burn through my body like someone had set fire to my skin. How could he look at her like that, after what he’d done with me? Bastard, fucking bastard.

She left, and he closed the door and walked back to me.

“Hello, Evangeline,” he said softly, his voice kind and tempting. I looked away. I didn’t want any part of what he was about to do to my body. “Have I kept you waiting too long?”

I did not reply.

“Angel,” he said, sounding disappointed. “Use your words for me. Please.”

“Fuck you,” I spat out, and he grinned at me when I finally looked at him.

“There you go, was that so hard?” he asked.

He moved closer to me, and I stared at him. He was wearing clothes again, trousers and a simple button-down blue shirt. I realized it was lighter in the room, and with a start, I came to the conclusion it was getting light outside. We’d been in the room so long it was almost morning.

And then his hand was between my legs.

Just like that, after minutes, hours of agony, he was touching me, parting my pussy lips for him, his fingers touching my clit.

“Please!” I cried out. “Oh my God, please, I–”

And he moved away. I growled at him.

“I see you still want it,” he said with a smile. “I thought you’d be tired by now, little Angel.”

I sobbed in frustration.

“I hate you,” I told him. And then I kept repeating it, because it was the only thing on my mind besides finally being released. Besides coming for him one last time.

“I know you do,” he said. “It’s okay, I like it when you do. It makes playing with you more fun, Angel. Do your arms hurt?”

I nodded, crying miserably. He walked closer and touched my wrists and I cried more when he did, the pain almost unbearable. And then my arms fell down in a useless heap, and I realized he’d cut the rope at the top, though my wrists were still bound together.

“Is that better, little girl?” he asked me. “Does that feel nice?”

“Yes,” I gasped.

“Say thank you, Daddy,” he told me, and I looked at him in pure shock.

He knelt down next to me and we stared at each other.

“I know you wanted to say it earlier,” he told me gently. “I know you’ve wanted to say it all along.”

“I didn’t–” I started, but he stopped me with a finger to my lips.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I want you to, little Angel. I’d like it.”

I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out. My body shook as he touched me, all over my legs, all over my torso. He got me so close again, in just minutes. I wanted him, my body craved him inside me.

“Lie back,” he told me simply, and I did. My ankles still tied to the bench, my back flat against it, and my tied wrists on my stomach. “Good girl, just like that.”

He hovered over me, and then his mouth was on my cheek. So close to my lips. So close to my first kiss.

“You want it?” he asked against my mouth.

“Yes,” I whispered. I could feel his exhale against me. “Please, kiss me.”

He didn’t. His mouth moved down, always hovering just above my skin, never quite touching me. I struggled against my bonds but they wouldn’t give. I wanted his mouth on me. I wanted his tongue flicking across my skin so very badly.

“Oh please,” I begged him. “Kiss me, anywhere you want. Just kiss me. You have to, please.”

His breath was everywhere. I could feel his stubble rubbing against me roughly, digging into my skin and scratching it up. It made me cry out more times than I cared to admit.

And then he was back above me, and I really thought he would do it. Kiss me. My first kiss. And I wanted him to have it.

I closed my eyes, and I felt him hesitate.

His mouth latched onto my neck and I felt my body deflate in disappointment, but only until he bit down.

He kissed me so savagely I thought I’d rip my ankles off the bench legs just so I could wrap them around his waist. I felt his teeth digging into my skin, I felt him sucking so hard I knew the bruise beneath my skin was already blooming, ripening more and more as he claimed that part of me.

His hand wandered between my legs. He didn’t fuck me with his fingers. The only thing he did was cup my pussy and hold it, and I came so hard against his heavy palm that I bit my bottom lip and drew blood.

He didn’t stop until it was over, and it was the longest orgasm I’d ever had.

When I was done shaking and crying, he untied me and helped me to my very shaky feet. When he realized I couldn’t walk, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

He carried me outside, past several servants, and I didn’t give a shit.

When he laid me down in my cage, I asked him to lock the door from the outside, and he grinned at me.

He told me when I was a good girl.

And just when I was about to leave, I gave him what he wanted.

I whispered it in his ear, and watched his desire grow again.

“Thank you, Daddy.”