He returns to their hotel room earlier than expected after his work dinner. Opens the door. Catches her naked, her hand between her legs.
She stops, even as he moves to the bed; pulls her by her hair to her feet; slaps her face hard. “Couldn’t wait, eh? Well I’d better show you what happens to little sluts. Get dressed!”
Along the street towards the university, not speaking, her wrist firmly and painfully in his grasp.
Back to the student bar from the night before, filled with the young and beautiful. Girls talking to boys; boys to girls.
He orders: one glass of white. Hands it to her. “As you didn’t want to wait… find a boy, get yourself fucked, then come back to our room by midnight. You do not have permission to cum. And then when you get back…”
And then. Then he would make her strip and stand with her hands on her head. Would make her tell him about the boy she had let have her. About taking his cock in her mouth. About bending over the bed and begging him to fuck her from behind… unable to meet his eyes as she wasn’t thinking of him. As she had to think of him, when he turned her over and pinned her down by the wrists, and forced her to kiss him before fucking her so hard she screamed for mercy.
“But I didn’t cum, sir…”
And then. Her eyes pleading for mercy. His hands between her legs. “So wet. Well, little whores get punished…”
Would have her kneel up on the bed. Would remove his belt. Would whip her until she sobbed her apologies, begged for him to stop.
Until he finally threw the belt to the floor. Unzipped. Buried himself with no kindness deep in her arse. Made her his, again. And then held his sobbing girl tight in his arms…