<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Kat and Dimitri ~ Torture Room</span></span><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=107056.msg4713830#msg4713830">Quote from: lips and thorns on 30-05-2011, 18:04:06</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><strong>Torture Room - Dimitri &amp; Kat</strong><br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body"></div></div><br/>Dimitri smiled finally as she looked up into his eyes.  Her eyes were dark, her body almost trembling with energy beneath his grip, her breast hot and burning in his hand.  She still held her dress obediently, a beautiful blend of obedience and passion.  Some girls would follow your every dictate, but they did it by going away in their mind, blanking out.  Much preferable was a woman like Kat who would ride the sensations he gave her and never waver.  It made the point at which she did waver so much more delicious.<br/><br/>"So young looking," Dimitri mused, looking Kat over.  With her dress at her armpits and her body flushed, the image was less so than it had been walking demurely in the ball room, but still she had the fresh face of an innocent creature.  "But not so innocent, are you, Katherine?"  He squeezed her breast harder in reply to that, watching both the wince of pain in her eyes and something darker and delicious.  <br/><br/>"You've experienced a little bit of this before," he said as he released the one reddened breast, and instead ran his finger tips in circles around the other.  "But you want to try much more."  He stroked that breast, kneading it softly, tracing around and around the nipple, closer, but never touching.  <br/><br/>"Don't drop the dress," he reminded her again, followed immediately by a sudden slap on her tender breast.  The other hand struck her stomach.  He turned her around with one hand, slapping her ass through her boy short panties, a hand striking her back, her ass again, the back of her thighs.  He drove her forward this way, the room ringing with his slaps, coming in an unexpected pattern, moving her towards a bench at the back.  Walking her along, he continued to surprise her with his hard strikes, as if trying to goad her into dropping the dress.  <br/></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div></div></div><br/>"No Sir," she gasped softly, unable to call him anything else in that moment, her eyes dark and filled with needs she'd never really had fulfilled before and the knowledge that she just might tonight, now, with him. "Not nearly so innocent as I first appear Sir," she agreed to his question and then fell silent as his fingers dug into her tormented breast while the other was gently teased. It was enough to keep her off balance, unsure what would come next.<br/><br/>Before she knew what was happening she was being driven across the room with a series of blows that made her flesh burn. Each one leaving a perfect print of his hand on pale skin and drawing low whimpers and soft yelps from her lips but she managed not to let go of the dress. It looked slightly awkward but she simply tightened her grip on the material and kept moving, allowing him to herd her through the room at will. Now that he no longer had a grip on her, she could have run, could have bolted for the door...but they both knew that wouldn't happen.<br/><br/>She wanted him, wanted what he had to offer, in every detail.<br/><br/>She realized where he was herding her, but made no assumptions. He could easily change his mind. Still she wasn't adverse to the bench he seemed to be aiming for and a small smile twitched her lips before the next slap fell on her thighs making her cringe and move forward once more. She wondered what he would do to once he had her there, and had no doubts that it would hurt, but hurt in ways that walked that line between simply being pain, and being pain that became pleasure.