Lucy Martin<br/>Location: Dylan Murphy's Apartment<br/>Tags: Dylan Murphy<br/><br/>Her ass was warm from the blows his hand had reigned down upon her.  She was in a trance like state when he pulled her up and spoke. Her cheeks burned with a deep blush as he mentioned her condition. After everything they had done, Lucy was still shy at the knowledge that he had noticed how wet her sex was. Still the smile spread across her face as she heard how happy he was. She didn’t respond to him. The smile on her face should have said it all. She was happy that he was pleased.<br/><br/>His words were heated, like his breath that bathed her ear, furthering Lucy’s state. She moaned softly hearing them, feeling him. It was a state that left her limp, like a rag doll, easily bent to his will. Her body went across with lap with zero resistance. The position was the same as before, and Lucy knew what was going to happen. As his hand came crashing down though, she quickly realized this time was different.  His blows were harder. There was no rhyme to them. Lucy’s eyes opened wide as the pain, the burning, was immediate. She gripped the sheets firmly, as it was all she could gather in her hands.  Her eyes felt the sting of her warm tears threatening to fall and then finding their way down her cheeks. She squirmed, her legs writhing against the bed as if she were trying to climb over his lap, but that wasn’t the intent at all. Lucy had found, rather quickly at that, that in moving about as she was, she could rub her sex against his body. The pain from the spanking he was inflicting upon her only made the sensations all the more stronger. She began to wish the blows would be harder and that he wouldn’t stop. “Please,” she panted, wanting his hand to crack against her flesh more.  Eventually she stopped moving, not because she had found release, but because she found more pleasure in the burning, aching pain.  Though her face was stained with her tears, she did not want him to stop. Through gritted teeth, she groaned with every smack that filled the air. Her sounds rivaling the crashing blows. Her legs spread slightly, exposing herself to him.  Over and over she felt his hand pushing her higher and higher. Even in punishment, she was finding pleasure. When he stopped, her skin felt as though it was on fire. Her head lowered to rest against him. She wasn’t even aware how high she had raised it. Lucy lay there against his lap like a rag doll once more feeling the burn her had caused.<br/><br/>Lucy could feel her chest tightening with every labored breath she took. When he moved her, she tried to glimpse his face, catching a small glance. There was a passion there, a need. She wondered was it on her face as well. She moved to his will once more, trusting him completely. At the foot of the bed, she bent over, listening to his words. He moved away, and she could have moved. She could have seen what he was doing, and the curiosity was there. So were his words, and those words were what kept her in place.  He brought back a leather strap which she felt around her neck. It was tight. It restrained her further. It was….perfect. Lucy could pull against it slightly, but that only made it all the more tighter.  She loved the feeling of it closing around her neck. She adored how it felt cutting off her air supply slightly. It was a delicious torture, the desire to move, to be close to him, to be in control of feeling this strap close in around her windpipe making it impossible for her to breathe, it was all too perfect.<br/><br/>Though she complied once more, it was clear her feet were not spread apart far enough. Lucy gasped, a sound that was clearly heard. “Yes,” she replied, the word more of a cry as he filled her. As perfect as Lucy thought this already was, the feeling of his shaft making her whole again, stretching her, proved there was still so much more that could make this better. Her head dropped slightly, giving some slack to the strap around her neck. “Thank you,” she said, her voice a whimper. His hands were warm on her back, and her skin still burned from the spanking.  His hand reached her hair, and Lucy hoped with every fiber of her body he would pull her hair, forcing her head up, causing the strap to close around her throat. There was so much she wanted. She wanted him to spank her again, to fuck her hard and deep, to nearly tear her body apart, to yank her head up until her face turned red from the lack of oxygen, until her lungs screamed for it. It was all too much. She couldn’t voice them all. Instead it came out as a soft, need filled plea of, “Please.”