Obsessive Pleasure - Chapter 9

Seeing her reaction, Chen Yang reached out, cupped one of her buttocks, and kneaded it twice. He then leaned in and planted a quick, soft kiss on Liang Yun’s cheek: “Stay put. Don’t flinch.”

The purely platonic brush of his lips against her face felt like something catastrophic had collapsed in her chest. If the previous spanking had merely cracked open a small floodgate, this gentle kiss had demolished the entire defensive dam.

Liang Yun’s body softened once more, bending into a beautiful, oil painting-like curve that shone under the light. Her snow-white, rounded flesh was evenly covered in a faint pink blush like an angel’s hand kneading watercolor into a cloud.

Chen Yang pulled his hand away, folded his leather belt in half, and ensured the rigid metal buckle was safely tucked inside. Then, with a loud whoosh, he brought it down. The cowhide material, driven by the power of his arm, whipped through the air in a defiant arc, kissing her tender, pink bottom like a flickering tongue of fire. A sharp, crimson ridge instantly appeared.

“Ahhh!—” That single strike was enough to make Liang Yun nearly leap up reflexively. The object wedged between her legs slid downward abruptly, almost falling out.

The belt lightly tapped her butt, a silent threat.

Chen Yang reached forward and smeared the slick wetness he found with his hand onto her swollen hip. “If it drops, I’ll whip the front!“

Liang Yun had no choice but to bite her lip fiercely, digging her fingers into the sofa cushion hard enough to tear the fabric.

The belt whistled down, strike after strike, hailing blows upon her bottom. The pain exploded on her delicate skin, wave after searing wave, leaving her nowhere to hide from the fiery sting.

Yet, her front entrance, her flower-v4g1na, was continuously stimulated and trembling from the heavy strokes, weeping with slick wetness that thoroughly soaked the feather mask clamped between her inner thighs.

Liang Yun dared not cry out loudly, fearing a physical spasm would dislodge the ornament at the front. Instead, she choked back her cries of pain, swallowing her sobs. Tears and sweat streamed down her cheeks in unison.

Chen Yang didn’t make her count the strikes because this wasn’t a pre-determined punishment. When initiating a little sub, he was free to indulge his own preference to hit as many times as he liked, and to stop whenever he felt like it.

A series of swollen welts, the exact width of the leather belt, began to appear on Liang Yun’s plump, tender skin. The Armani metal logo on the belt flashed with a dangerous, tempting cold light as it whirled through the air.

The pop-sizzle sound of the resilient calf leather impacting flesh, mixed with Liang Yun’s strained whimpers from the depths of her throat, created a unique soundtrack echoing through the air.

It made her tormented yet thrilled, and it made him satisfied and aroused.

Liang Yun’s mind was now like an emptied hard drive. All the past complexities and troubles had vanished, replaced only by pain and worry. Pain from the violent kisses of the belt on her bottom, and worry about the feather slipping out as it was constantly lubricated by her desire.

It was simple yet all-consuming.

She lost all sense of time and self-control, left with only one thought:

I can’t dodge. I can’t let the feather drop.

He said: He would strike the front if it dropped.

Liang Yun had absolutely no doubt that Chen Yang would follow through. How could she possibly endure that kind of whipping if it were directed at her front?

Yet fear wasn’t the only reason.

She thought—she spontaneously thought: Be a good girl, obey him, give herself to him, give herself to him without reservation.

If Chen Yang was satisfied, she would be content.

When Chen Yang finally stopped, Liang Yun remained frozen in the same position. The previously snow-white flesh of her bottom was covered in vivid red marks, some lines overlapping and stinging painfully. Her entire body would twitch nervously at the slightest touch.

Her shirt was completely soaked with sweat, yet her legs remained rigidly pressed together, clamping down on the small ornament he had placed there, like a devout offering.

Chen Yang went to the fridge and retrieved a towel he had pre-chilled. He draped it over Liang Yun’s bottom, gently pressing down and massaging her with his fingertips. He then removed the feather that had tormented her and stroked her damp hair. “It’s over.”

Liang Yun felt a single, tight nerve flick severed by a sharp blade. The sudden release caused her to break down, crying out loudly in a sudden torrent of emotion.

All the suppressed feelings from before were finally released in that single moment.