“Please touch my secret garden.”
“Your secret garden? Please. I know you’re much dirtier than that. Say cunt. Touch my cunt, Sir.”
“No, that’s so crass.”
His elusive touch made my whole body shiver and my stomach pang. “Exactly. When do you get to be crass? Let it out. Say, touch my cunt, Sir. Dine on my sweet nectar.”
I gasped. “Ohmygosh! Touch my cunt, Sir. Savor the nectar that’s waiting for you in my pussy.”
“Mmm, yes, like that. Was that so hard? Don’t you feel released from the shackles of those much more prudish than you?”
“Yes,” I laughed with a nod. “And bad.”
“Bad. You’re right about that, my lady. You are the goddess of smut.”
I snickered, loving that term.
I expected roaming fingers first, but he shoved his head between my legs and devoured my aching, wet slit like a starving beast.
“Aahhhh.” I thrashed and cried out again and again in rills of ecstasy.
His tongue slid up inside me and reunited with my walls and his hands trail blazed heat over my abdomen and breasts. He grabbed at my flesh until it hurt and made me scream. He fired me up so fast. Just before the brink, he lifted his head and replaced the void with two fingers. He rammed them in hard and fast. I kept raising my arched back involuntarily and ground against his hand.
“See? Questionable virtue. What did I say.”
“What. I’ve never given it all. I swear it. On my mother’s grave.”
He pulled off me and tears of joy spilled out of my eyes, but he didn’t see them. They got gobbled up by a damn blindfold. “You were just writhing against me like a girl who knows exactly how to rush ultimate pleasure to her nether region.”
“I wasn’t,” I say, though I clearly was.
“Liar. Don’t worry. I’ll make an honest woman of you. But first...you need to hurt mightily for your sins. You need to feel pain that still bites and burns you tomorrow.” He started lightly tapping a small, leather thing up and down my arms and over my breasts, and he drew streaks and circles on my cheeks. It whap, whap, whapped me like a very thick leaf and also caressed me like velvety rose petals. “It feels so soft, doesn’t it? Like a feather’s cousin?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He bopped and dragged it all over me on a travel downwards. The rapping, steady on my clit, was making me weep honey. “Softness. It’s a deception.”
Whatever it was whizzed in the air and fell on my nub with a wicked smack. I cried out from the smarting sting, but I could tell he’d only put a little bit of his might into it. He went back to the excruciating tease of tapping. My arms, my chest, my cheeks, my hungry hills and valleys. He flipped it to land vertically with a dainty drum beat right on my bits. He traveled up and down the slices of swollen fruit with gentle flaps, making me ache for its rough reconnection with my clit.
“Flicked hard enough, the riding crop can leave angry welts. I’ll bet you’ve rapped your horses hard, zapped them like a bee, without giving it a second thought. This baby can hurt like hell. Like so.” It whooshed through the air and landed with splat on my inner thigh. Before I could a snatch breath, he sent a much lighter whack to the pussy lips that he was just tapping into insanity.
“Ow, fuck!” I screamed because the first one indeed hurt like hell, and the close juxtaposition and contrast of the lesser smack felt so good. The two jolts blasting through my body were electrifying. Waving, crackling strings were spiraling out from a central point in my loins. The mark on my thigh flared up into an awful sting and a lingering burn.
“Aw, yes. Indeed say fuck or whatever dirty things fly into your head. Give me that sweet, guttural music. So unbecoming of a princess.” He was back on my clit, tapping, tapping, tapping.
Don’t you dare. Not that hard. Please!
He flapped and dragged the tip of it along my clitoral hood and swollen bits. He was making my pussy cry. “Do you want my mark, right on that sensitive button? Do you want it to hurt so good right there?”
I shook my head. I did and I didn’t. I doubted he’d actually hit me that hard there.
Before I could answer audibly, he left a smack on my clit to remember. It made me arch toward the sky, but it was similar in intensity to the nice licks I got on Halloween. No welt, no burn, only a hot, sweet, mother of all, fuck-me, fuck-me, fuck-me sensation that had me dripping and quaking like mad. My sigh turned into a moan. He did it again and again and again in slow, restrained measure right on my hot button, making me rise so fast and cry out at the blurring line between pleasure and pain.
He fired another fierce slap onto my other thigh, snatching my breath and leaving a smarting welt in its wake. But the fire in that one was so extreme, it made me laugh out of my mind like a hyena on crack. What was going on? He hit me hard again on the other side, and on the underside of my arm and beside my knee. I loved the switch up of landing pads, as well as the intensity.
I yowled and laughed each time he hit a new spot with force, and I was bucking like a bull rider. I’d never experienced such a delicious ride to the top. Along my arms and legs and breasts even, he gave me nice, blistering slaps, never hitting the same spot twice. I shivered and gnashed my teeth when the crop finally nipped at my ass cheek, right by my hip with a whizzing splat. I thirsted for more of that. Even with the candy cane ribbons in place, he found good, yummy targets of skin to strike, staying down by my bound legs now, leaving me breathless with hit after hit. They got harder and harder, biting me sharply, making me dizzy with warmth and fits of laughter.
But by the eighth butt smack, they no longer hurt at all. I don’t know how or why, but he did it. He flipped my receptors, and I loved him for it. The pain lessened tenfold, and now, each strike of the crop felt like a glorious bop of pleasure that fizzled and swirled electrified spider webs, wild and free. He started roaming again. The lack of tempo and random surprise of the falls had me trembling and breathing raw. My mouth hung open. At each point of impact, a fresh wave of ecstasy flooded through my soul. I was no longer yowling, just laughing and moaning like a high hooker and eager for each stunning whack like a hit from a drug.
Hit me … hit me … hit me, kept running through my head. My whole body was buzzing and alert. It felt like ants were crawling all over me and airy bubbles were bursting on my skin.
When he hit me again after making me wait, I came so ferociously, I tweaked my back with all my restricted writhing. “Ah aahhhh. Ohmygod. Oh god. Ah, aaah, aaaahhhh.”
He let me come, oh, thank God, he let me come, come, come, and without reprimand. Even though my eyes were blocked, I closed them and sank down onto the black satin pillow waiting for me. I saw fireworks in my world of black and screamed out for him to grab me, hard.
Sir did me that favor, cupping all his fingers over my sex with a hearty slap that made me jerk and moan. The heel of his hand mashed deliciously into my hypersensitive clit and two of his fingers slid into my core that was still squeezing, squeezing, squeezing like never before and dripping a new layer of slickness. He wasn’t even playing with my vulva when that climax happened.
After I rested on the pillow a while, the sky opened up above me and light spilled down, piercing through the darkness. I reached up and levitated and climbed and climbed and climbed. As the light pulled me up into its embrace, I felt so delirious and effervescent and floaty, like I’d gulped down Fizzy Lifting Drink. I didn’t know how long I laid here, floating around. But it was nice, so nice, until I got very sad when I remembered how naughty I was in the comedy club. The disappointment in myself tossed me out of my heaven. What if I’d waited to come like he asked? What if I’d been patient just a little while longer? This could have been even more explosive, more mind-blowing, more beautiful. I’d thought he was just being mean and torturing me for his twisted pleasure. Maybe he was, in part, but he was, moreover, aiming to rock my world, and I’d robbed my own stupid self. It was like chocolate. The longer you’re deprived, the more
delicious it is when it’s finally melting on your tongue and flooding your senses with silky sweetness.
When he pulled his hands off me, sobs spilled out of me.
“What’s wrong, Princess? Did I not shift pain for you?”
“Yes, you did, Sir? With amazing skill. You made it feel so good. I’m just sorry for being naughty.”
He stripped off my blindfold. “Though your sobs and tears are treasures to me, there’s no need to cry or feel guilty. You are no longer naughty. You’ve been punished enough. The deliverance of any pain from here on out will be for my pleasure.”
For his pleasure. Oh, how that made my stomach drop delightfully like the giant hill on the Superman coaster at Six Flags New England that dives underground. Anything, anything, anything for his pleasure. I am not all there yet. I’m still too self-absorbed. But I will be. I am determined to be his perfect sub.
His mouth claimed mine and pulled me into a wild rave. “How about some treats for you now? And for me.”
I nodded. “I’d like that. Very much.”
After keeping me waiting for several minutes, his knees pressed into my side when he knelt, and I arched deeply when a warm-hot streak of lava, followed by a spattering of dots, suddenly dripped on the piqued skin under my boobs and ran down my stomach and pooled in my navel.
“Aaaaahh,” I groaned. “What is that?”
He didn’t reply and repeated the drizzle, letting it drip down my inner thigh that time. It gathered along my labia and stiffened up at little. I realized then that it was candle wax. He ran more and more down my thighs, letting it harden and converge on my bits. My vagina started clenching at the foreign, hot touch that just stayed there. More streams of heat fell across my breasts as he drew figure eights in the air. I gasped and tugged at my restraints when he started mauling my boobs and working his way down. He didn’t leave an inch of my front untouched, unmauled. The things he was doing with his teeth and tongue made me quiver, especially the lower he went.
“Are you eating candle wax?”
“No. Homemade chocolate crackle, my lady. It did congeal somewhat but not as much as I’d hoped. Maybe you need to be colder.” And with that, freezing cold dripped on my already perked nipple.
I screeched.
He ran wet ice along my breast, making me shiver and squeal. Ah, hi, old friend. I trembled as chills coursed through me. He did the same with the other breast, first letting cold, drip, drip, drip and run down my flesh, then turning it into a drawing tool of torture. I shivered and screamed when he slid the cube across my bellybutton and drew a line down. He quickly switched to the hot, sticky stuff again, running lines and circles on my body. I felt it stiffen up in those colder places and I moaned at the contrast in temps. I don’t even know where he got it. He whipped it out of thin air. Or maybe he had stuff hidden behind hay bales. What else was he hiding?
“Yes, that worked indeed.”
I was still quaking and sighing at the way he trimmed me in hints of Heaven and Hell. He took his time eating chocolate off my body, not tiring of the labor, retracing places he’d already tackled because they were re-adorned in chocolate body crackle. I giggled and squirmed at the awful tickling when he got to my navel. He let more watery ice drip there and cold settled into the little dip, which he quickly squelched with the heat of his tongue.
With so many surprising sensations hitting me at once, the flesh there became even more sensitive than usual. I shrieked and thrashed with every tongue stroke and nibble or scratch with his nail, but he pinned me down more and forced me to take it. But after a hearty suck and plunge into my bellybutton with a wily, sharp tongue that managed to find a nerve that twanged like a little vibrating guitar string deep in my pussy, he didn’t keep me in discomfort for very long. His mouth soon claimed my cunt in a quick switch, and he bit and licked and sucked me into paradise indeed. After the temp play, his mouth on me teetered between amazing and almost unbearable. I groaned and wiggled against his ferocious attack. Hot breaths rushing out of his nostrils whisked along my thighs when he suddenly stopped eating me out and pressed his forehead against my pelvis. I think all the chocolate was consumed off me now. He just stayed there, breathing hard between my legs, not moving for several moments.
He pulled off of me and I felt him stand and heard clanks. I think he was jerking the pins out of the ground. Yes. The tension at my legs grew slack and the stakes fell with thuds then clanks into the dirt. I guess this phase was done, and he was moving me onto the flogging, or some other naughty, naughty thing. Yipee. I beamed and my heart filled with warmth. Once freed from the dirt and the chains, he untied and unwound the ribbons around my legs. Sir did the same thing with my hands, setting me free, and chucked my dress in a ball near my undergarments.
Though it wasn’t necessary, he stretched me out slowly with circles, first my arms and then my legs. He was quiet, and I wasn’t sure if it was safe for me to move of my own accord. He soon helped me stand and held me and kissed my face.
When his lips reached mine, tasting of sweet chocolate, he immediately pulled me into a steamy kiss that had our hands roaming and grabbing all over in a frenzy. His hot breaths swooshed down my mouth and chin, and he clutched at my flesh and bit my shoulders so roughly, it jerked out yelps and yowls. “God, baby. Ohmygod.”
Right after I hooked my fingers into his pants and yanked his hard cock in to mash against my torso, he broke off me, seized my hands and said, “Torque.”
I lurched back in annoyance and slid out of his clutch. “What. What are you doing? No, no, no. You can’t safeword on me. That’s mine. That’s for me. I’m fine, I’m fine. I’m not hurt. I want back in. You said you’d flog me.” I was tearing up and my voice, cracking. “Please.”
“Addison. I have to stop.”
“Stop? Do you have to pee or something?”
“No. I just...can’t do this. Not–”
“You...can’t?” Rage flared up. “But we’re having fun. Nothing was too intense for me. And you were enjoying it.”
He shook his head and shrugged.
“Why are you wimping out? You know what?Fuck off, Logan. Call me when you’re ready to man up and be a real Dom, the Dom I know you are. Do you have clothes for me?” I stormed away from him into the carriage house and looked around in the little bit of firelight. It was a nice place, decorated all rustic and cabin-like with a deer head over the fireplace, bear skin rug and plaid furniture. Aside from the chains, there wasn’t a BDSM contraption in sight, from what I could tell.
He seized a clump of his hair. “I have clothes for you in my bedroom. But Addison–”
Fuming mad, I hustled toward the door and backhanded the air. “Forget it. Never mind. I have clothes in my car.”
“Where the hell are you going? Will you stop? You are buck naked, woman. You can’t go out in the rainy, cold night like that.”
“Fine. But I’m leaving. No point in staying if we’re fucking done.” I darted back to wrangle into my tattered dress, gouged open at the top.
“I’m not wimping out. Will you stop?”
“No. You called ‘torque’ on me. That’s mine. Not yours. You can end the scene, but not until we’re done done. In using that, you copped out, and you know it.” I tugged on my shoes but kept them undone and left my undergarments in the dirt. “I don’t want the scene to be over. I don’t. We were just getting started. It’s only what, 9:30? Curfew’s not until 12:30. We were supposed to scene for hours.”
He grabbed my arm, and I jerked out of his hold and ran out the door. When I burst out into cold, it was raining harder than before. Goosebumps perked up from the wet slopes swooshing down my face and body. With my dress torn open at the chest, water nestled there and made me shiver.
“Errr. Get back here, Addison.”
“No! We’re out, and I’m done. I wanted to be flogged dammit! I just need to cool off. Text me or whatever. I’ll email you my journal entry.”
I took off in the direction of my car.
I heard his breaths and splatty footsteps behind me. “Addison. Stop!”
I don’t know if he heard me, with my voice carrying the opposite way, but I cried. “God, you suck balls, Logan. Seriously. You totally fucked up our scene.” More cloudy now, it was much darker than earlier and I tripped on something sticking out of the ground and smashed mud on my calves and knees when I hit the dirt.
Logan caught up with me and pulled me back up with tight clutches on my upper arms. “Stop. Will you fucking stop?”
“No. You’re such a coward, Logan. Such a fucking wimp. I could feel the boiling lust inside you. I could feel it. You were so in the scene in the beginning, you freaking cut me, you made me bleed, and then you zapped out. I’m crushed you don’t trust me to take it, to take what you crave to give. You have control of me, idiot. I am yours, all yours.”
“I can’t, Addison.”
“Yeah, obviously.” I couldn’t contain the sobs scratching at my throat anymore, and with me trying to break free from his hold, we slipped and ended up wrestling in the wet grass and dirt. I yowled and groaned. “We’re supposed to be in this, Logan, all the way, and you’re holding back. I don’t want to sob in front of you or say more things that I’ll regret. Please let me up.”
“No. Not until you listen to me. I have to hold back.” He pinned me onto my back with a thud, his hands on my shoulder blades, pelvis straddling mine. Cold drops were running down his face and streaming down to mine.
I was a hot mess, tripping out, “Why’d you break out? You were supposed to flog me. You have a closet full of them, and you’ve flogged freaking girls in the store! But I’m your sub. Me. I should get to experience your skill. It’s all I’ve been thinking about the whole damn day. I’m so pissed and hurt. And I could tell how much you wanted me. Take me, fucking take me, dammit. Just do what you want.” In tears, I bucked up against his hard cock.
“No. I’m not taking you. That’s what I’m fucking trying to avoid. I’m so hot and hungry, I’m about to rip you apart. Maybe I will, in some other scene,” he wiped his face, “but I’m not doing it now, not the first time, not without clearing it with you first. This is important to you, to both of us. I had to stop. Please try and understand that.” His mouth possessed mine hungrily and heat streamed out of his nostrils as his feral, pinching hands traveled down. He followed their path with his devouring, and bit and sucked at my naked breasts, now heaving and rising into his lust. “Addison,” he growled.
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