The Storyteller (24 page)

The curtains were open, affording at least some light in the darkened room, and she wondered if anyone could see or hear anything if they passed by. She was, however, past the point of caring.

“Did you find it?”

The overbearing pain as the thin leather strapped her fully on her ass gave an answer.

Upon impact, she jerked and wiggled, rising partially before falling back down.

“This is what you have wanted for so long, is it not?” Oliver asked with a sizzling sound to his voice. “Is this not what you desire?”

“Yes,” Carrie babbled. Her voice was already starting to tremble, and the tears were welling up just from the one strike. It was not just cherished pain, but arousal.

The blow landed in the exact same area, bringing a cry from Carrie’s open mouth

“Hurt me,” she begged. “Hurt my ass! Whip me hard! Hurt me!”

Again, Olivier brought down the belt, but this time he hit her lower legs. The blow after that landed on the small of her back, and then he was aiming at her ass again.

“Belt me!” she begged. “Belt me! Whip my ass raw! Punish that ass! Punish it!”

Amid the tears, she did not beg for relief, but added discipline. This new lover was eager to give it to her, too.

“Renounce goodness,” he commanded after landing yet another blow.

“I renounce goodness,” Carrie responded through tightly gritted teeth. The pain was providing a rush for her.

“Admit you are entering a bargain with me and no one will ever know what we do here, regardless of the cost,” he demanded as he let the belt whistle across her tormented ass once more.

“OWWWW! I admit it,” she cried. “I admit it.”

Though she wanted no escape from the blows, she was kicking her legs on the bed, as if trying to swim across the mattress. Another hit came, and with it Olivier gave a new command.

“Admit you are a wicked girl who is obsessed with bad things.”

“I am a wicked girl who is obsessed with bad... OWWWWWWWW!”

Olivier delivered a set of slaps that were even harder still, and Carrie shook as she received them. She embraced the punishment. For way too long she had imagined it like this. It was what she had longed for since reading that magazine piece. Plus, this was better than she could ever do to herself.

“Praise my name,” the demon lisped out. “Praise me. Praise Olivier. Say that you love me.”

Before she could answer, Olivier hurled the belt to the floor and grabbed her legs, whirling her around. She now faced upward and her butt arched against the bed.

“I have something new for us to try,” Olivier declared. “I’m going to get you off.”

Carrie was stunned by the sensation as the demon bent down and ran his tongue between her legs one time, in a slick, tantalizing motion.

“Ooooooooooooooooooooooo!” she called out.

Carrie wondered if the minister had noticed her increased rate of breath, or if he was likewise growing hard behind his desk. It was a thought she put from her mind.

“I have to admit the sex I had with Oliver that first time was the best ever. He whipped me naked with my very own belt, and then he did the greatest oral sex ever. I halfway expected that his tongue would change into a snake or something, but it didn’t work out that way. I’ll tell you something, and I mean it. It was the best climax I ever had to that point in my life.”

Carrie caught herself expecting the minister to react by blushing or commanding her to tone things down. He did neither.

“Am I too vivid for you?” she asked.

The minister said nothing.

“So here I was, transfixed by something I knew was not even human. After too many failed love affairs and too many flings alone, I had what I wanted and beyond. I didn’t know how this was going to end and didn’t care. I was in love with something from another world, and it was very real. I had opened a doorway, and this creature had come through with a solid deal for me. He was beautiful too. Sexier than any man I could have ever landed in the real world. He was there, and he was for me. A gift from hell? Maybe. I didn’t care back then, and it took me forever to realize this affair just wasn’t going to work.”

“Let me just throw out an idea to you?” the minister suggested, and Carrie stiffened, knowing what was to come.

“Yes?”

“Let me put this to you as delicately as I can, and I just want you to mull it over. Have you ever considered mental rather than spiritual guidance? Now, what if the situation is like this? What if all of this has been imagined? You have already spoken of some pretty heavy duty sexual fantasies. What if this is part of the same chain, and somewhere in your mind you believe it to be real?”

“Does this look imaginary to you?” Carrie retorted, rising and undoing her pants. She did not totally expose herself, but turned and yanked down her panties to reveal a badly bruised bottom.

“Does this look real to you?”

Pulling up her pants, Carrie sat before the startled minister and looked deep into him. Her butt was starting to hurt again as she sat, though the punishment was two days old.

“You could have done that to yourself,” the minister offered. “Again, I’m just throwing out alternatives here. If I am wrong, let’s go back to the concept of this demon being real and how we can free you from him.”

Carrie found herself thinking vulgar thoughts once more. She wondered if by now the minister was erect if he hadn’t been before, after offering him a glimpse of her punished ass. Would he masturbate to it in the church bathroom after she left? Would he end up giving her a spanking of his own choosing rather than prayers? She caught herself and halted. Olivier was flooding her mind with obscene thoughts in order to distract her.

“Now that we have that cleared up, let me go on,” Carrie instructed, having regained her composure enough to hide the new wave of lust roaring through her. “We can be sure this is no dream. I thought of that myself, and plenty of times.”

Carrie shut her eyes and envisioned yet another session.

This time, she was bound in a very peculiar way on the bed. As before, she wore no clothes, but this position was truly precarious. Olivier had brought a metal bar with him and had bound her ankles to it with tight knots in such a way that when she was on her back, her legs were upward. Her arms were forced downward and fastened by cords to the very same bar, so she was restrained.

“Shout my name and make a confession of your love for me,” the demon commanded.

This time it was daylight out and there was no darkness except within the hearts of the two clandestine lovers. She could see precisely what was going on.

“Confess that you want discipline,” Olivier snarled. “Confess your faith in me to give you pain, so you can orgasm.”

“Give me pain,” Carrie pleaded. “Give me pain, so I can orgasm. Give me pain.”

“No,” Olivier announced. “No pain for you.”

He went into the other room, leaving his lover imprisoned by the ropes and bar.

“Olivier, get back here! Give me my punishment! I want a whipping right now! You give me what I deserve! You’ve got me tied up like this! Now use it!”

No response came.

“Olivier,” she called out again. “Olivier? Please give it to me. I cannot wait any more! Give it to me!”

Again, there was no response. Carrie shook with fear as she wondered if Olivier had vanished and was going to leave her in his unorthodox position until she figured out a way to escape.

“Olivier? My lover? Where are you?”

There was silence.

“Olivier, I want you. I need you. Give me what I want...”

Her voice was no longer a command, but a broken plea.

“Please. Please give me what I want.”

It was then the realization hit her. This was part of the punishment. Olivier was establishing himself to be the dominant one in her relationship. By not giving her what she longed for, he was prolonging her torment.

“No spanking for you today,” he declared, re-emerging to loom over her. No spanking. “You have to convince me I should give it to you. You need to come out now, and you have to tell me why you deserve it...”

“I deserve it,” she insisted. “I deserve it. Do it to me.”

Olivier took hold of the bar and lifted causing her ass to rise with it. She looked like a baby about to have a diaper changed.

“I suppose you do deserve it after all,” he snickered. “This is going to hurt you more than it hurts me.”

He struck her several times on the ass and upper legs, until she was hot and red.

“Is this turning you on, you nasty girl? Are you turned on by this? Are you getting wet down there? Are you going to orgasm for me?”

“Spank me more,” Carrie commanded. “Spank me more, and then I want to feel you in me.”

“This is what you’re going to feel,” Olivier countered, striking her with even more force.

“Eeeeeeeeeee!” Carrie screamed with each smack, but she was not yet satisfied. She wanted more.

“This is what I can do for you,” the demon lover snorted. “I can give you pleasure and pain at the same time. You aren’t going anywhere, the way you’re tied up like this. I can do anything I want with you, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You’re in my hands right now. I control you and your life. I can do anything I want and you can’t stop me.”

More whaps came against her upper legs, bringing out red fingerprints in her flesh.

“You are the dirtiest of the dirty. I should cut these binds and make you crawl on your knees to me. I should make you fall near me and make you confess every sin you have ever done. I should make you worship and not just love me. I should make you ask for every vulgar thing under the moonlight, and you should get it all done to you. I should bust your ass until it ruptures. I should punish you until you scream for me to stop and I keep right on going. I should shoot a wad into your face right now, you slut. You’re my slut, you know. You’re my whore! You’re the slut of Olivier.”

Olivier roughly shook the bar that imprisoned both her legs and her hands.

“I should gag you, so you have to think your dirty thoughts, but you cannot say them. Is that what you want? I should gag you, so you take being punished in silence. I should fix it so you can’t hear your own screams when I blister you down there. I should fix it so you’re alone in your dirty thoughts, and that’s what they are. You are dirty. You know you’re dirty. You were dirty when you called upon me and have gotten worse since! You are a low and vulgar beast. You are a whore who wants dirty things. You may have everyone else fooled, but I am not.”

Carrie could only let out a whimper, even though her mouth had not been gagged as she had heard Olivier threaten.

“Tell me that you are a slave, and this night I am your master,” Olivier commanded. “Tell me these things. You’re devoted to me! Say this or I’ll cut a switch from a tree and really give you something to cry about.”

“Noooo,” Carrie cried out. “Not that! I am your devoted slave. I am devoted only to you. I love you! You’re the only man I ever desired. It is the only thing I want. You are the only one I have wanted or will want. You’re everything to me! I mean it! I’m not lying to you! I long for you at every waking moment!”

“Pathetic pleas, yet believable,” Olivier snorted. “Be glad I believe you.”

Bending over, he buried his face in the slit between her legs, and a new cry of pleasure erupted from Carrie’s mouth. She felt the tongue slide the length of her vaginal lips and shuddered.

“Oooooooooojjjjjjj...”

“You want more, I suppose! So you want more from Olivier?”

“Yes. I want more!”

“Are you ready for more?”

Olivier stood up again and glowered down at her.

“This is what you get instead.”

Again he went to work at beating her buttocks and legs.

“Owwwwwwww,” Carrie cried, trying to fight against her restraints. “You don’t know how bad this hurts!”

“And this is just with the hand,” Olivier informed her of what was already obvious. “You aren’t taking your punishment as well as I had hoped. Maybe this requires new measures.”

Olivier went into the kitchen and returned with a thin plastic spoon.

No!” Carrie begged. “Not with that!”

“Would you prefer a switch?” Olivier questioned.

“NOOOOOOO!”

“Then take it and take it good!”

The plastic spoon was brutal. The noise resounded, as did her cries, when Olivier went to work again on the very same spots where he had struck her with his hand.

“Ow! Owwwwwwww! Oww! Stop this! Please! Owwwwww! Oww! No! Please! Ow! Ow!”

“Are you going to orgasm?”

“Ow! Yes...”

“When?”

“Soon...”

“Beg me to stop hitting you with this,” Olivier commanded.

“Okay. Okay. Stop. Stop!”

In truth, Carrie didn’t want him to stop. She wanted to be beaten until she could take no more.

“Ow! It hurts me! It hurts!”

“That’s enough of that, you dirty whore! I know that’s what you want! Let’s do this instead!”

Carrie hadn’t been prepared for the spoon handle to be shoved deep into her vagina, but the sensation was too much for her. Olivier didn’t even need to move it in any way, for the very penetration was enough to bring her to a flushing orgasm.

“Ohhhhh, Olivier! Ohhhhhhhhhh!”

The way she had been bound held her in position for the handle to go deep within her. It drove her wild.

“Oh. Oh, Oh!”

The spoon was removed and being held by her mouth. She could smell her own juices upon it.

“Now taste yourself,” Olivier commanded.

Carrie did as she was told.

The haunting memory faded and the minister’s voice was very far off. It was enough, however, to bring her back to reality.

“You couldn’t be that obsessed if you wish to find an escape. Something clearly brought you here today.”

Carrie nodded.

“Things between us got really intense,” she continued. “The weeks turned into months and the months into years. Too many years. Too long. Now I want out of this relationship, and I didn’t know how to do it. I don’t think breaking up with a demon will be as easy as ending it with a school kid.

She gave a sly and highly inappropriate grin.