217. Olivia - Panic I

My heart sinks faster than the Titanic.

Despite trying to be good and obey them, I'm going to be punished. Only because I came. And it's not even my fault. I can't control how my body reacts around them no matter how hard I try. It's not like I want to look like a bitch in heat whenever they touch me, but I can't help it.

What is wrong with me?

Explaining this to them won't be of any help. If they want to spank me, then that's what they'll do.

The vibrator keeps buzzing inside my ass but all that pleasure I felt before it's tainted now, since I know it wasn't meant for me to finish but only for their entertainment. Stupid. I'm so fucking stupid. I hate myself so fucking much it hurts. A lump the size of Everest forms in my throat.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Why do I keep trying to live when it's clear that anything I do ends up badly for me?

"I understand, my Lord." To my relief, my voice comes out steady. Crying will probably double my punishment. Or worse. They will drag me to the shed.

"And how many spankings do you deserve?" Mose asks.

harsher punishment. On the other hand, if I say a higher number, that's how many spanks I'll receive while I'm

I try to

to sit for a long time. How about we go with fifteen and if you haven't learned

my face in the cushion,

up and down my skin. It soothes my fear until I realize

who claims to love me, will take part in my punishment. I knew his words were not true, but to know he would deliberately hurt me stings. What did I expect in the end? That he will treat me like a freaking princess just because he can say beautiful lies? In the end, he broke my ribs. He might say he's sorry, but it doesn't mean I believe him.

the head. Jason was right all along. I'm stupid. The clothes? The filly? The orgasms? It was all meant so I would break some stupid rule I was never made aware of so they could take everything they gave me away and punish me. Not because they actually give a fuck about me. But in my delusional mind I thought that maybe they liked

about someone as broken as

paddle over my body while I would try to guess when they would hit me next. If I was right

of me, I try not to concentrate on how good they feel but on my fear. More pleasure is forced on me yet I do my best to ignore it. My buttcheeks are squeezed before the first blow lands

"One, Master," I say.

in approval, letting me know he likes being called Master. He hits my ass again, harder this time, pain spreading all over my

pain produced by the vibrator

for the third time. It hurts. Not

"Three, Master."

but in a way, it hurts worse because, for some stupid reason, I thought Mose was not like them. That he wouldn't deliberately

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