While she waited for what came next, Jack stepped into the woods in front of her, where she watched him take a knife and cut down a dozen or more slim branches. With a length of leather he pulled from his pocket, he bound them into a bundle of menacing possibilities. She’d be marked when he was done. Of that, she was certain.
She waited, wondering when the first slashing strike would hit, thinking how good it would feel to vent some of the fire in her body with a dazzling burst of pain. But before he laid on that lashing blow, he stepped up behind her, his clothes, his shorts and t-shirt, brushing delicately against her flushed skin, and whispered in her ear. His hot breath tickled the base of her neck, “You’ve been thinking about this moment since you wrote the script. I’m just following your vision, slave.”
Then he pulled back, took his position behind her and let that bundle of switches fly toward her bound body. Her back and ass and thighs took the powerful strikes with every one of them streaking her backside, leaving it rough with welts and a burning scarlet rash.
She moaned as he worked her over. She ground her turned-on snatch against that bark and cried out in anguish and in pleasure, which were so close to the same thing that after the first few blows hit their mark, she couldn’t tell one from the other. But she did crave more.
“You’d better not cum, slut!” he called out to her.
His deep baritone vibrated through her, making the orgasm rising up within her about to burst from her body on the strength of his command alone. She had to pull it back.
She wanted to beg for her release, but begging wouldn’t sway her master when he was driven with desire as he was now.
He continued with the beating, laying it on hard one minute, backing off the next. Could she suffer this beautiful torture and not explode? Soon, her arousal grew to one frantic peak after another; but because he ordered her to hold off until she had his permission to cum, she backed off – more times than she could count. By then, she worried that she couldn’t go on like this much longer.
“Oh, my god, pleeeeease, Master, please…” her moaning cries suddenly lifted into the trees. For a split second, she wondered if her voice could be heard beyond these woods.
Jack called out, “You’re frantic to cum, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Master, I am.” Her voice was filled with desperation and hope.
“And if I tell you not to?”
“I won’t! I swear.” But please, Master…
“No, you won’t.” The forbidding sound of his authority sent a convulsive shudder racing up her spine. He knew that waiting was torture. That she suffered now with the paradox of loving every second she held back the cum, and desperately needing that climax to shake loose the savage pleasure that was about to explode. Denial was a bitch and a genius of a lover.
He was turned on, too. The power to control her was his intoxicating rush. His cock would be throbbing and stiff. And he, too, would teeter between mounting anticipation, denial and release.
The longer he worked her over, the more she feared he’d push her too far this time, and that she wouldn’t be able to contain the onslaught of sexual stimulation.
But she did hold back. Because of Jack. Because he had such faith in her. A faith that never seemed shaken. She might have had her doubts, but he did not. He’d tested her obedience numerous times, and now, she had a reputation to live up to.
She held on, refusing to fail, even when he lashed her lightly, erotically and the cum was just a breath away – even when he pulled in behind her again and began to finger her slit and kiss the back of her neck all the way down her naked shoulder. Damn! How was she supposed to stop herself?
“Oh, my, this is so hard…” she muttered aloud, and he heard that. Don’t make me wait. Please! she silently screamed. Still, he continued with the tease. Reaching around, he slipped a finger into her cunt and played there with such artistry that her face screwed up into a scowl of woe. How could she stop the storm inside her from breaking loose? She stomped her feet and writhed against that hefty beech tree as if it would help, moaning, Master please, to deaf ears.
At last, even Jack could no longer wait.
He loosened the ropes, pulled her from the tree, and dragged her weary, horny body to an old stump. He thrust her over the top, leaving her arms and breasts to dangle on one side, with her ass raised high on the other, at the perfect angle for his cock.
While she lay there, panting and breathless, he stood back and let her suffer a moment longer. She could imagine a satisfied scowl on his lips while he savored the look of her red, streaked ass. Her heart beat fast. Anticipation mounted. Then she heard the sound of his shorts and belt dropping to the ground. She trembled even more. His hands were on her ass cheeks – Thank God! – and he was squeezing the roughed-up flesh, while his cockhead pressed against her sex in another teasing torment. How could he be so controlled, so self-possessed to be able to draw this out so long? Then, when it seemed he’d never get on with the fucking, he suddenly thrust forward to the sound of her impassioned, “Oh fuck yes, Master! Yes!”
The orgasm crashed though her in seconds the instant his cock impaled her cunt.
He fucked ruthlessly. Determinedly. Stretching the screwing out for as long he could bear it. She loved every minute of that forceful sex act. How he pounded her into that decaying tree trunk, and how that stump scratched her breasts and belly, and how he said, when he couldn’t bear to hold back an instant longer, “Cum, you sorry wench.”
She came again, with another multi-orgasmic explosion of libido.
He came, too, with a deep guttural groan and several forceful thrusts.
Fact was: her cumming didn’t begin with his Cum, you sorry wench. Maybe she’d tell him the truth later, that she climaxed with that first powerful thrust of his cock. Maybe he already knew. Maybe he’d punish her for failing to wait. She didn’t care. And by then, she doubted that he did either.
Her cries rang out through the trees, some screaming, some pleasurable moans. She grunted and groaned with him, as she took his seed inside her body, and felt that hard prick ejaculate, again and again, until there was nothing left in him, and nothing left in her, at which point, she slumped against the rough stump exhausted.
When Jack finally pulled her up, she sank into the comfort of his body and let him hold her. Banged up. A little bruised. Cum leaking from her cunt and down her leg. She was a mess. But a happy mess. For a long while they stayed there, unmoving. There was no silence around them. Birds were chattering. The forest stirred with the breeze. Insects buzzed their heads, and Jack waved them off.
Finally, he pushed her to the dirt, to her knees between his legs where she cradled his cock in her palm and lapped their juices from his spent organ. When she was done, he pulled her back to her feet and they returned to the Jeep.
An hour later, they were on the stone porch looking out on the shimmering lake, Jack with a beer in his fist, his hand fondling her hair. Jeni sat on a pillow between his legs with her head resting on his thigh.
“Can we stay like this forever?” she wondered – she wasn’t even sure she said it aloud. But she knew she had when he answered.
“Wherever forever takes us, I suppose.”
“You’re not going anywhere soon?”
“Nope, slut. I’m liking this too much to stop now. Why in the hell would we?”
There were a gazillion questions she had for him. Her mind was always spinning, always wondering about the future and what came next, always trying to outline the great unknown. Figure out if they would be together in a year, two years, the rest of their lives. Jack wouldn’t let her do that. Now was a moment to celebrate, and the only one that mattered. She got that. Perhaps for the first time in the months of their relationship, she was content to let her spinning mind go; to let her questions lie and just be.
Be. Master and slave. Jack and Jeni.
***
When the fury dies you hold me, you kiss my lips and run your hands over my sweaty
skin.
Hurts are healed, a day’s worth of trouble forgotten
Worry quits its anxious grip
and wounds bound up with tenderness are carried away by love
In the long twilight thereafter we stretch out in each other’s arms
Later in the evening, I sit at your feet and rest my head against your knee.
About the Author
Lizbeth Dusseau published her first novel, Alexandra’s Awakening, in 1989. Since then, she has published over 130 works of erotic fiction, including BDSM, Spanking and General Erotica. “I enjoy most exploring the many ways in which women experience erotic passion and how their sexuality plays out in their relationships, whether it’s with a husband, lover, master, female friend or casual flirtation.” She and her late husband, Kendall, founded Pink Flamingo Publications in 1994. Although Lizbeth retired as Editor-in-Chief of Pink Flamingo in 2011, she continues to write both fiction and non-fiction. She lives in rural Southwest Michigan.
Readers can email Lizbeth at: [email protected]
More BDSM erotica from Lizbeth…
You’ll Answer to Me
Alexa Dupree returns to Tatum Winery after a six year absence, flooded with memories of her five year tenure in this beautiful Northern California valley. In summers she was nanny to Warren Tatum’s adolescent son. For the rest of the year she was his housekeeper and outrageously kinky love slave. Warren’s home became her sanctuary when at just 21, she fled England to avoid murder charges in connection with her father’s untimely death. The rebellious wild child of a famous concert pianist, her bad behavior and multiple arrests had been tabloid gossip since she was a teen. Relieved to have escaped an aggressive manhunt by Scotland Yard, Alexa readily agreed to sign Warren’s ten year contract, effectively making her his indentured servant in exchange for providing her a safe haven. As far as the man’s kinky sexual appetites, they were no problem for this promiscuous slut.
However, when Warren dies in a freak accident after just five years, Alexa quickly splits, ready for a taste of freedom. Now she returns at the request of Warren’s 21 year old son, Luke, and is shocked to learn that the boy she once took care of plans to enforce the contract terms he claims are part of his inheritance. With incriminating evidence in his father’s safe, a signed contract, and intimate details of her Master/slave relationship, he has all he needs to win her submission. The swaggering sexy youth intends to make his former nanny his sexual plaything. While powerful urges draw these two together, Alexa resists the sudden end to her carefree life. Theirs will be a troubled love-hate relationship. But with Luke holding her ultimate freedom in his hands, what choice does she have but to surrender? A sizzling BDSM romance.
Little Savage
The waifish Lisle has been a BDSM slave, serving the reclusive Baron Brauer at his estate located in a remote woods outside Washington DC. When Brauer dies after an extended illness, his heirs hire the Baron’s friend Marcus Rathburn to purge the estate all traces of Brauer’s perverted lifestyle. Slaves scatter, dungeons are dismantled, and the contents sold at auction, which leaves the elusive Lisle the sole remnant from Brauer’s kinky life. After several unsuccessful attempts to remove the wild girl from the property, Marcus enlists the help of his friend Daniel Broc, a former mercenary who operated in the Middle East. He now lives in DC. Although dominating women still comes naturally to this rugged Dom, he no long wants anything to do with owning slaves.
At the Brauer estate, Daniel finds Lisle to be a puzzling creature: vulnerable, impulsive and stubborn. Though she puts up a fight, he’s able to extract the girl, which is all that Marcus asked for. However, the Domme who agreed to take her is totally unprepared for this silent, moody sub. Convinced that the situation is headed for disaster, Daniel decides to keep her until Marcus can find a better arrangement.
Daniel and Lisle are misfits in polite society, mirror images of the other in their sexual passions. Although Daniel resists becoming this girl’s master, he knows there’s no one more capable of handling the explosive and secretive female. Their tempestuous relationship is fraught with sexual tension, which sends them hurling into the extremes of sex they both love and need. However, Daniel’s houseguest is far more than she first appears. He’s shocked to learn that Brauer sold her before he died, money was exchanged, and now the buyer is out to find his missing property. With her life in danger, Daniel must act fast to keep her safe. Although the two come from very different worlds, a strong bond grows between the them; what had been an arrangement of convenience turns into a steamy romance.
Alexandra’s Awakening:
Updated and expanded edition of Alexandra’s Awakening.
Lizbeth’s first novel is an erotic story in the tradition of The Story Of O—a tale of sexual awakening as a young woman, Alexandra, comes to terms with the often crude sexual fantasies that have haunted her for years. Knowing of her troubling sexual passions, her lover, Will, takes her to his good friend, the dominant master, Reggie, who requires Alexandra face her fears as well as her profound desires. Though she often fights this master’s power over her, she soon learns the pleasures of surrender. In the process, she comes to appreciate and gain power over her once perplexing sexual lust, and find where her true desires lie. In this 2013 version, Lizbeth has significantly expanded the novel, adding over 15,000 words to the original text, as well as updating this BSDM romance into the 21st century.
Alexandra’s Awakening is the first book in the The Alexandra Series. The novel is now available singly, or as part of the five book series published in a single volume. Both are available from Pink Flamingo Publications
Plus these titles…
In The Garden of Lust
Seven Days in Cell Block 7
Innocence Defiled
Honeymoon In Bondage
Labyrinth
Carly On Her Knees
Taken Before Dawn
Punishable Offenses
Betrayal of the Virgin Bride
Sexual Mischief
Bounty Hunter
The War of the Remingtons
Master For A Desperate Slave
Poor Little Rich Slut
The Humiliation of Hannah
The Scandalous Demise of Lily Lake
The Secret Sins of Lizzy Barton
Pagan Dreams, Lesbian
Outer Island
Into the Dark Wilds
Force Me To Obey
And many others…
For a complete catalogue of Erotic Fiction…
write, email or call:
Pink Flamingo Publications
P.O. Box 632, Richland, MI 49083, 1-877-629-0051
E-mail: [email protected]
On-line:
For Consensual BDSM, Spanking Fiction
and General Erotica:
http://www.pinkflamingo.com
For our complete BDSM catalog:
http://www.eroticbooknetwork.com
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