Chapter Three- The Devil Is In The Details

Chapter Three- The Devil Is In The Details

"He might be lovely to the eyes, but his soul is unappealing to the mind."

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I held my breath, anticipating in agitation the first blow to be launched on my poor, undeserving ass, impatiently waiting for that prickling current of pain to ripple through my skin and leave it red.

I sought no pleasure in these seldom moments, neither did I allow having to accept my punishment to torment my mind, the same couldn't be said for the Devil, however. I was deeply perplexed when he delayed striking my bottom with the paddle forged from the ashes of Hell, until that is, I was made aware of his strategy by a brief observation.

A minute doesn't pass in which this brute of a man doesn't exercise his power or exert his influence on the weak and vulnerable, but each time he does so, even if it's a triffle victory like making a young woman like me submit to him, he still extracts staggering heaps of pleasure from the realisation that he is in control.

I can't express sufficiently in words just how ambiguous and inscrutable my father is. The Devil is so encrypted and unpredictable at times, that I refrained from attempting to guess what might be going through his mind as he kept me thrown over his lap and did not do as little as to instruct me to count after every strike. I was greatly seduced by the idea of tilting my head up just the slightest to catch a glimpse of his face, but I did not allow myself to be enamoured by such temptation.

I knew better.

I was near to pleading with him to get it over and done with and spare me from the aggravation borne by expecting the unknown, when my father decided to surprise me yet again. On my knees, bearing the nipping cold of the solid floor, I was astonished by a ton when the Devil's long fingers gave my good as bare butt some treatment of care and began to stroke and caress the flesh ridges of my derriere.

I was so confounded, I didn't understand what was happening, but I didn't react with action, neither did I question him. The latter was the easiest to sustain. Strict discipline has been instilled in me when it comes to openly questioning my father's methods ever since I was a child. Even when I was roused from sleep by horrifying screams of victims of slaughter, as early as the crack of dawn, I never questioned or acted as though I knew anything of the barbaric brutally that this mansion hosts.

Not uttering a single word of protest, I could maintain with utmost ease, but restraining my body, I could not.

I could not ignore the sensations vibrating through my skin, as his fingers slid across my butt gently, like an artist meticulously stroking a canvas with a brush. Every inch his finger pads covered   made tiny shivers jolt up my spine, and the hairs behind my neck to stand to attention. Ever so subtly, those diabolical fingers approached the cleft of my ass, and it was increasingly difficult not to squirm or expel a trembling sigh.

He has never done this before.

My father's administrations reminded me so greatly of the the sinful advances of the many men I have read about in the steamy erotica I indulge in, under my covers, beyond the cry of midnight.

My stomach seemed to clench at that thought. I wish I knew what he was thinking, just as much as I wish I knew why I was secretly enjoying his touch.

Maybe that's what he wanted.

The Devil must want me to let my defenses down, to simmer down to relaxation, so the punishment could call forth a greater load of pain. He was going to deliver the first strike, when I was least expecting it.

I thought I was bemused before, that was nothing. Now my logic was dishelved and more fitting to be fatuity.

Silently, he pulled my silk night dress to the curve of my waist, his fingers grazed just below my breast. Then he shocked me further by tugging at my lace undies with the intention to direct them north. Like heaps of snow tumbling down a hill.

To say I was worried, would be an understatement.

My heart was thumping wildly, on a frenzy, racing like a stallion, my stomach was sizzling and fluttering, unearthing emotions I have never felt before, emotions of severe complexity. I was scared, not only because I didn't know where this was going, but also was frightened by my unwillingness to at least fake displeasure.

I have never had to undress for this kind of session before. If my butt be stripped bare, then he is surely going to see parts of me I don't want him or anybody to see.

Before my panties could roll down the swell of my ass, a shaky moan of alarm flew out of me.

"Ahhh.."

I then pulled away from him just the slightest, but he instantly drew me closer  and had me back to my initial position. That forceful lug, served as a warning.

I expected anything, but for a deep, reverberant groan to erupt from his throat. Shivering, I lowered my head to his knee and he purred like a beast, as though I had delighted him immensely.

What is happening?

Will I flee from this room with my sanity intact?

I have never felt more like a coward. I couldn't bring myself to enunciate even one word, so you can imagine how grateful I was when a three knock came from the door.

I was startled yes, but I used that fleeting moment of distraction as an excuse to escape him. As soon as the heavy taps sounded, I jolted up and was soon on my feet before he could react.

I pulled my night dress down and gave the scowling Devil an apologetic stare.

My eyes didn't even have to wander down, it was within my range of sight. My keen eyes examined his thigh, I was not even left to wonder that much. It was what I thought it was.

I was in disbelief. I didn't know how to feel as I gazed at that undeniable, thick protrusion of jaw dropping magnitude resting on his right thigh.

I made sure not to keep my wild-eyed stare on his crotch for too long, but any hopes of him having not seen where my gaze had lingered, were shattered as he removed his hand from his thigh, leaving that gasp inspiring bulge to full view.

He wants me to look.

He wants me to see.

Why?

What does this mean?

Ashamed, my mouth gained a mind of its own and fell ajar. My gaping expression could have easily given anyone the wrong impression. Against my will, my eyes met that of the Devil. His ever expressive silver blue eyes relayed to me an unsettling message.

I had never seen him gaze at me in such a manner. Then his lips twitched and he smirked, before he spun his swivel chair around proceeded to view some footage on his laptop. As though nothing happened.

That indicated to me that I was dismissed. I quickly left the Devil's lair, nearly bumping into Macheno, his right hand.