by P Nelson
“Yes, Master.” Calla continued to stare at him.
“Good sub.” He spread his leather-clad legs apart, his naked chest puffed out and the way he angled his head made Flynn appear like he was studying her from a great height. Calla wanted to squirm, but she kept her position by force of practice. “We have the small matter of a punishment spanking to get through before we can start our scene. You have racked up sixty smacks in the last few days and today you were a naughty sub and avoided your master. You’ve earned yourself an extra twenty. That’ll be eighty on your ass with my hand. Do you agree, sub?”
“Yes, I agree to the eighty smacks, Master.” Calla gritted her teeth and didn’t care if her tone wasn’t submissive. Every master she had ever played with asked if she agreed to the count for punishment spankings. The question was rhetorical. Unless Calla wanted to use her safe word.
“What is your safe word?” Flynn talked through the safety precautions for the start of each scene.
“Red, Master.” Calla replied wanting to get the spanking over with to get to the scene.”
“We will use the stoplight system. No need to explain it as I know you already understands it. Stand up and come lay across my knee to receive your punishment.” Flynn moved back and sat down in a utilitarian wooden chair with a high back but no armrests. Calla stood up without taking her eyes off her master. She knew of Chamberlain’s presence in the room at the back of her mind, but she was already focused on her master. The way he folded his body onto the chair, legs spread apart, his erection bulging in the front of his leathers. The way his arms reached out to help her across his lap.
“This is a standard start to play for most Doms.” Flynn spoke as Calla eased her chest over Flynn’s lap, the leather coming into contact with her skin. “Once I finish the punishment, the slate is clean for both the sub and the Dom. Both should forget any lingering issues surrounding the reason for the punishment. There is no place to hold grudges against your play partner in BDSM.” Flynn sounded like he was in front of a class of would-be Doms.
“What if the sub hasn’t earned a punishment spanking?” Chamberlain’s voice sounded curious.
“Then you have a boring sub, Master Chamberlain and I suggest you make up rules in order for her to earn her smacks. The reality is a perfect sub is boring. She wants the spanking or she wouldn’t be into BDSM and you want to give it to her. The infractions need not be life changing. Just enough to make sure your hand or chosen spanking implement touches their bare ass often.” Flynn rubbed a hand down Calla’s back all the way to her ass cheeks. He kneaded each one before speaking again.
&
“I want to hear the count sub. This is a punishment.” Flynn adjusted his posture, but made sure Calla didn’t fall from his lap. This is where he had wanted her for most of the afternoon and evening when she hadn’t shown up for supper. The cave man inside him wanted to storm up the stairs and demand to know why she was avoiding him (even though he knew the answer) and insist on an apology for her rudeness at not coming down to dinner. It went against everything inside him not to push her, but Flynn gave her the space she needed. Now however, Calla was at his mercy.
“Yes, Master.” Her voice muffled. He could tell she was bracing for the worst. Good. Because he would not go easy on her because Chamberlain was in the room.
Flynn rolled his shoulders before bringing his hand up. The first smack landed on her right ass cheek causing her to jerk on his lap. It was hard enough to startle her, but wouldn’t leave a mark. He wanted to build up the pain and the heat. The light stings in his hand a welcome sensation.
“One.” Calla counted off after a second. They had been playing every afternoon and evening for a week. Her pain threshold had improved. As well as her mind’s ability to recover from the first shocks of pain. His focus tuned into her breathing, her muscles movements and all the tiny signals her body was giving him both involuntary and voluntary.
He brought his hand down on her left ass cheek. Her count came a second later. The spanking gained a rhythm, both working as one in time with his hand hitting her flesh. By the end, Calla’s voice grew hoarse and Flynn knew she was struggling to keep up with the count. Not because she was in pain, but because the spanking had brought her close to subspace. The stinging pain of his hand had long since moved to burning heat. The heat allowing her mind to drift away from the problems facing them both to find a little peace.
Once he had finished, Flynn gathered her up in his arms and held her against his chest. Calla’s head lolled onto his shoulder and he gave her this time. He kissed her forehead, and the tear stains down her cheeks. She was so fucking beautiful right now. Calla trusted him with her well-being. It made him the King of the fucking world in a way conquering the corporate world had never done. Maybe Ms Emily had been far more astute this afternoon during her lecture than he gave her credit.
Flynn juggled her in one arm as he reached down beside him to pick up a bottle of water. With some fiddling, he opened it up and looked down at Calla. Her eyes remained closed, but a smile played around her lips.
“Would you like water, sub?” Flynn prompted holding the bottle close to her lips.
“Yes please, Master Flynn.” Calla cracked her lips open, and he set the bottle to them.
“Hydration is important for your sub.” Flynn instructed. Chamberlain sat opposite him in a matching wooden chair. Legs spread apart, arms over his chest and an intent expression on his face. He had leaned forward during the spanking showing his interest in the scene and now looked like he had a million questions.
“And the chocolate?” Chamberlain prompted as Flynn set the half empty bottle aside and reached for an open box of chocolates. He chose one with a chewy caramel filling, Flynn pressed it against Calla’s lips. She didn’t even open her eyes as she accepted the offering.
“Candy, chocolate anything with high calories keeps your subs energy up, the endorphins flowing. One danger during post scene care is subdrop. The submissive can experience such an endorphin rush during the scene that when it wears off, it can be a very depressing and tough experience to navigate. This is why aftercare is so important.” Flynn reached for another chocolate after Calla had finished the first. “But it’s because my sub had no supper and I’m about to lay some serious leather on her back.” Calla’s eyes popped open at his comment.
She accepted the next chocolate, but didn’t close her eyes. Alert to everything he was saying and doing now.
“I read a whole chapter on aftercare in one book you gave me.” Chamberlain nodded. “It doesn’t look as tedious in real life as it did reading in the books.”
“It’s all a part of the scene. And sometimes it’s more important. For a sub’s mental health.” Flynn shifted Calla in his arms and set her down on the chair as he stood up. “I’ll let you eat a couple more of those before we get started.”
“Thank you, Master.” Calla tried not to grin at him and Flynn realised too late he should have given her extra smacks for not eating. He had too many things on his mind.
“Come and I’ll show you how to check the St Andrew’s Cross before you buckle your sub into place.” Flynn motioned Chamberlain over. They went through the function of the cross, as well as the position relative to the anchoring system to ensure it didn’t fall over during the scene and the condition of the cuffs that would bind Calla’s ankles and wrists. “If we were playing in a public club, I would check that the cross was clean. I’m sure you’ve guessed BDSM is a very messy business.”
Chamberlain nodded back to him. “I have a good idea.”
Flynn turned around to find Calla staring up at him from the chair. Her gaze tracked his movements, and he knew she listened to his conversation with Chamberlain with rapt attention.
“Where are you, sub?” He questioned. Excitement poured through him at the thought of using the whip on her. It had been on his agenda before circumstances forced Flynn to end their training contract. And he had brought the four footer out a few
times, the six-footer even less. More to keep up his skills than anything else. Flynn always had a line up of subs wanting to experience his whip, but he felt like the experience belonged to Calla now.
“Green, Master.” Calla slid off the chair and resumed her slave pose. Knees apart, hands upturned on her thighs. His favourite way to start a new scene. His sub understood him well.
“Stand up, come over and face the cross. Hands above your head grip the cuffs and open her legs wide. I will buckle you in. Afterwards, I’ll warm up your skin with my hand before starting with the whip. Fifty lashes. Do you agree?” He folded his arms over his chest to make sure he stayed in place. Flynn wanted to walk over to her, open the front of his leathers and allow her to relieve some pressure on his balls. They would have the rest of the evening to fuck.
“Yes I agree, Master.” Calla stared up at him. Her lips a flat line.
“Up you get.” Flynn stepped away from the cross and Chamberlain followed his lead. Calla stood up and let her hips swing walking towards the cross. Her perfect breasts swayed with her and Flynn took a deep breath. He continued to remind his cock of the virtues of patience but it was damn hard.
“You have one hell of a sub.” Chamberlain commented from beside him. Flynn noticed the appreciation in the man’s tone and a small spark of jealousy ignited in him before pride replaced it. Calla was a remarkable sub. Despite the shit he put her through.
“My sub is a fucking remarkable woman. And you’ll be lucky to find yourself a permanent sub half so amazing.” Calla walked right up to the St Andrew’s Cross like they were old friends embracing. She raised her arms above her head and spread her legs just as he asked.
“I’m not looking for a permanent sub.” Chamberlain remarked. “But I’m very interested in watching you use that big piece of leather.” He nodded towards a table where Flynn had coiled the six-foot whip.
“Not long now.” Flynn walked to the side of the cross and grasped one of Calla’s wrists. He placed it inside the cuff and buckled it up. “You need to make sure the cuffs are tight enough that if her legs give way, they will still hold her upright for the minute it takes to release her. You don’t want your sub hanging by one arm from the cross, it could cause damage to the muscles and tendons in her shoulder.”
&
Calla pressed her body to the polished grain of the cross and waited. Flynn’s practiced hands secured first her wrists followed by her ankles to the cross. All the while explaining his method to Chamberlain. He made sure she still had perfect circulation and the position comfortable enough to hold for the time he needed to whip her. And fuck her. Because Calla possessed little doubt of the latter. In fact, she was counting on it. He was scrupulous about not touching her with any part of his body but his hands, but Calla still wished his cock pressed between her ass cheeks. Or brush against her hips.
Calla tilted her head to rest a cheek against the upper part of the cross. Flynn came to stand in front of her, anticipation filled his eyes and Calla felt the same way.
“Where are you, sub?” the formal question kicking her heart rate up faster. It was almost time.
“Green, Master.” Calla murmured.
“I will whip your fine ass now.” Flynn leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She opened. The kiss made her toes curl. He left her panting. “Oh, sub. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.”
“Me, too.” Calla responded. “Master.” She added after swallowing the lump in her throat.
Flynn made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat and positioned himself behind her. His hand met her back in a series of sharp; quick slaps to bring a little heat to her skin. This would prepare her for the burn of the whip. Calla was doing her best to keep her nerves in check. She wasn’t afraid of Flynn hurting her. The excitement and anticipation were making it hard to stay present in the scene. The slapping stopped. Calla strained her ears and was gratified to hear him pick up the whip. The sound of the leather slithering from the table.
The whip cracked through the room. But her skin remained bereft. The noise bounced from the beams of the high ceiling.
“Who is your master, sub?” Flynn’s question boomed through the antic. The grit in his tone made her thighs clench.
“Master Flynn is my master.” Calla forced the words out of her dry mouth.
The whip cracked again. The sounded caused her to jump a little. Flynn was trying to kill with anticipation.
“There will be no count. This is not a punishment.” Flynn’s words harsh. “I want you to enjoy the pain I give you. Do you understand?”
“Yes master.” Calla sobbed. She wanted to feel the kiss of the whip so badly now, All she could hear was the blood rushing through her ears, her breath was hard to catch and her back and ass were tingling from the warm up and her spanking.
A second later it happened. The sound of the whip hit her ears before her central nervous system registered the burn of the leather. Endorphins crashed through her veins along with a good dose of adrenaline. All the air in Calla’s lungs escaped in one great whoosh. A trail of warmth seeped into her skin from the whip and Calla sagged against the cross.
“Where are you, sub?” Flynn whispered.
“Green, please continue Master.” It took Calla a minute to respond. Her body already craving more of the whip.
“Good. I’ll finish the count and not stop again unless I see you in distress or you use your safe word.” Flynn cracked the whip above her head and Calla flinched in anticipation.
“I understand, Master.” Her breathing slowed to where Calla could concentrate again. She did her best to let go.
The leather hit her again in another spot. Her skin lighting up and the burn lasting until the next stroke came. Flynn soon found a rhythm and the initial sting followed by the burn seduced Calla. By the time her mind wandered far away from the dungeon on the estate, her back and ass were lit up, sweat dappled her skin and her breathing had become even.
A voice in the back of her brain told Calla she could experience this peace all the time. She wanted to. Have Flynn all to herself. But she realised a part of him would always be held away from her. The instinct to protect her from unpleasant people, places and experiences would provide opportunities for him to escape into his head.
Right now, the connection burned between them. Through the whip, heart, mind, body and soul. Tears fell from her eyes. Calla never wanted this moment to end. The fear of being left behind tomorrow morning marring the magical experience of Flynn working her over. The whip fell on her again and she forced the thought away. BDSM was about being at the moment. Experiencing the now. Her previous worries had no place here. This was the time for her and her master.
It took effort, but Calla wrenched her mind away from her budding anger and relaxed back into the scene. She allowed her mind to float away. This was what she loved about her kink life. Calla placed her trust in a Dom who could bring her this peace. And this wasn’t any old Dom she had agreed to scene with at the club. This was Flynn. Her forever Dom.
Calla opened her eyes and watched in slow motion as Flynn spoke. The whipping was over, but her body and mind were too languid to fire up right away. He pressed a water bottle to her lips, and she closed her eyes again. And drank. The cool water dribbling down her chin and neck. One of Flynn’s hands stroked down her back, all the way to her ass. Only to start the process all over again. She arched into his touch. The need to have him inside her slamming into her. Eyes popping open, Calla waited for her master’s next command.
Chapter Eleven
Flynn stroked his hand down Calla’s back and waited until she drank her fill. She had taken his whipping with beautiful poise, falling off the edge to subspace. He was the King of the whole fucking world right now. The whip tinged her back and ass red, but any marks would fade by morning. She might have a few twinges of discomfort. He hadn’t intended on branding her. Just reminding her who she belonged to.
“Master?” Calla questione
d. Her eyelids having trouble staying up.
“I’m here.” He smiled at her. “Do you want more water?”
“No”, she shook her head” Calla breathed out, nostrils flaring. “I need you. Master. I need you to be inside me.” She begged. Flynn nearly came in his pants. He set the empty bottle aside and allowed his hand to stop and rest on the curve of one of her ass cheeks.
“How do you want me inside you, sub?” Flynn’s voice gruff. He reached down farther and found her fold slick and ready. Her pussy hungry for his cock. With one digit, he teased the outer lips of her pussy and watched as Calla’s breathing became heavy with need.
“Your cock, master. I need your cock in my pussy. Please take me.” She begged. Flynn relished in her words. The way her voice became urgent in her need. Still, he only continued to tease her. He brought his mouth to her ear, Flynn traced the delicate shell and bit down on her earlobe at the same time he pushed his finger inside her channel.
“Yes, Master.” Calla’s yes elongated into a hiss and she tried to move on his finger. The cuffs securing her to the cross made it difficult for her to get any friction. Flynn chuckled hearing her sighs of frustration.
“Are you trying to steal an orgasm from me?” Flynn pumped his finger in and out of her a few times. He twisted and turned until he found her sensitive G spot inside her channel.
“No, Master. Please let me come.” Calla’s cheeks flushed. Sweat beaded on her forehead. All of her muscles tensed. Flynn only needed to apply a little pressure to her clit and she would come all over his hand. He frowned at her.
“I thought you wanted my cock?” He mocked.
“Oh, Master. I want your cock.” Her pussy squeezed his fingers and Flynn almost gave her what she wanted.
“You’ll make do with my hand.” He commanded.
“Yes, Master.” She said in a rush. Flynn used his other hand open the folds of her pussy. His fingers found her swollen clit, and he flicked it. Once was enough to have her thighs clenching hard. Twice and Calla groaned fighting against the bonds. The third touch gave her what she needed. He pressed down and circled her tortured bud. Calla screamed and bucked against the wooden frame. Her face tilted towards the ceiling, Her long neck straining. Calla’s mouth opened in a long keening cry filling the whole dungeon.