Tonight she might just get to do that. She still needed to watch his reactions, though, to see if her responses were pleasing to him. She'd keep still if he wanted her to.
She felt a nudge on one ankle and without thinking spread it to the side. He connected the cuff to a ring at the bottom of one of the upright bedposts. She knew without being told to do the same with her other ankle and in a moment she was spread, her cunt presented to his gaze not just by her position but because it was swollen and open with her blatant arousal.
He lifted one wrist and locked it onto place above and to the side, onto one of the rings she'd studied two nights ago. Her other wrist received the same treatment. Now she was well and truly stretched and presented for him to do just about anything he wanted to her, just like her fantasy yesterday. She was already sliding into that lovely deep space she was so rarely able to go to.
Her eyes had closed so she didn't see his hands before she felt them on her waist. She drew in a loud breath and forced herself to look up at him. He smiled down at her. His hands began stroking her skin, with just enough firmness to relax the muscles. She prepared to feel his hands on her breasts, but he kept away from them for now, massaging her skin on her stomach, up her sides, up each of her arms, down each leg, planting little kisses as he moved. He even massaged the palms of her outstretched hands and the soles of her feet. It took only a few minutes for her to become a languid, relaxed blob. When he dug his hands into her scalp and started scrubbing the skin with his fingers, she moaned aloud, her head falling forward as it became too heavy to hold up on its own. Forget struggling. She had to remind herself to take one breath, and then another.
"Relaxed?" his voice whispered in her ear. Somehow she found the strength to nod.
"Good. I think you'll enjoy the rest of this even more, then."
She felt his mouth on one nipple, enclosing not just the tip but the whole areola, including the ring. He suckled, the gentle pressure and release sending jolts of electricity straight to her cunt. She threw her head back and let out a loud groan, her eyes screwed shut. He let go and the cold air on her wet skin instantly contracted the nipple so tight she actually felt the tug of the sensitive tissues. He took the other nipple into his mouth, a little less this time as this was the one with the tag on it, but he still pulled a cry from her as another shock raced straight down to her core. When he let go the second time, she finally opened her eyes to look at them and marveled that she'd never seen them longer or harder.
Coherent speech was still beyond her, though. It was a miracle she was standing upright. She managed to raise her eyes to his. The slight grin and raised eyebrows gave him a self-satisfied look. She watched him with languid eyes as he returned to the bag again, and this time he pulled out the beautiful soft flogger. A protest rose on her lips once more but died with one look from him.
"Now that I've almost put you to sleep, I'm going to wake up your skin."
She nodded, unable to do more than that. He swung the flogger at her stomach, a light, experimental swing. It merely brushed her skin and almost tickled. He swung again, and again, practicing his rhythm, never doing more than brushing her skin with a teasing touch. He changed to a figure-8 pattern and now the flogger brushed her left and right sides.
After a few minutes, the touches were too light for her. She arched her back, her need making her more and more desperate.
He lifted an eyebrow. "Ready for more?"
"Yes, please!"
He increased the force. So far only her stomach had been the canvas upon which he'd been painting, but that changed. The flogger began to fall harder and harder on each hip in turn. Her skin began to wake up, each nerve ending firing shocks of pleasure. He continued the figure-8 down one leg, the flogger now finding the soft skin on her inner thigh and feeling like little stinging pleasure-bees. He went all the way down to her foot and then back up, alternating the stroke and the force, and that leg came alive. Back up on her abdomen he laid strokes down on her mons, but avoided any touch of the sensitive folds in between her legs. He moved to her other leg, waking every nerve and muscle there as he went down and back up.
Her head was thrown back once more. Soft groans of pleasure accompanied every breath. She desperately hoped he'd turn his attention to her breasts next. They literally ached with a need to feel the firm strokes he'd applied all over her lower body. But he seemed determined to make her wait, because the flogger with its rhythmic strokes moved up the left side of her chest, neatly avoiding the very place she most wanted to feel it.
"Turn your head to the right," he whispered. She obliged, never doubting that he would be careful not to hit her face, but appreciating the care he took. The flogger moved up her left arm, the soft strands falling and wrapping around her arm in an embrace of leather strands that set every nerve alight, until he reached her hands, which she spread wide in invitation. Then he moved back down, across her stomach once more, and started up her right side. She moved her head to the left without being ordered to and relaxed in the blissful symmetry of the nerves in both arms buzzing in reaction to the falls of the leather.
There were only two untouched places left and she was desperate for the flogger to start on either one. She arched her back once more, silently begging, staring James in the eyes.
Without warning, he changed the angle of the flogger so that it fell directly, just once, on her left nipple. The shock of finally feeling it there made her cry out. He kept up the rhythm of the falls on her stomach for another ten seconds or so, then hit her right nipple. She writhed in blissful agony. He resumed the blows to her stomach, then struck again at her left nipple. This time he struck her right nipple on the next blow. She moaned, she writhed, she cried out. He kept her waiting in tense anticipation of the next blow, never repeating the same pattern, never giving her any warning of an impending hit. Sometimes the blows were the caresses of a lover; sometimes they stung almost more than she could bear. She tried to remember what she'd vowed about struggling, but he made a mockery of her attempts at self-control, and she gave up, pulling against the confines of her bonds, never able to escape the blows, and not really wanting to.
Her eyes were closed and so she missed his change in direction. Suddenly the flogger swung up between her legs and a few of the soft falls landed with a surprising sting between the lips of her wide-open pussy. She screeched even as she embraced and welcomed the pain. Now every stroke of the flogger landed on her pussy, over and over and over until she was soaring up the side of a mountain, about to topple over the other side...
The flogger moved away, the strokes softening and traveling down her legs once more.
She opened her eyes. "Master!" she begged. "Please!"
He smiled and shook his head as he brought the flogger back up and landed one blow on either breast, blows that made her shriek and pull at the restraints. She gasped and watched though half-opened eyes as he put the flogger down.
"Master!" She would go mad unless he finished what he'd started.
He moved away from her and she followed him with her eyes as he crossed the room. She gasped in delight when he pulled the blanket off the spanking bench.
"Ready for more?" His eyes twinkled.
"Yes, please, oh, please!"
He released the cuffs, bringing her arms down one at a time, supporting and massaging them as he did. She sighed, relishing the care he took to check her over. Once he was sure her knees wouldn't collapse, he bent over to release her ankles. He put his arm around her waist and almost carried her over to the bench. She started to climb on but he stopped her.
"You need to sit for a moment and drink some water before we go any further."
She made a face.
"And pouting gets you punished."
She deepened her scowl on purpose, then grinned.
"Oh, honey, I know exactly what to do with subs like you. If I wanted to punish you, I'd simply stop this session and send you to bed."
Her mouth dropped open. "Sorry,
sir! I won't protest again, I promise! I'll drink anything you want me to!"
He threw back his head and laughed. "You are so transparent. I love that about you. You can't wait to be draped over this spanking bench and fastened down."
She grinned.
"The tighter the better, I'll bet."
Her grin widened.
He handed her a glass of water, which she downed in seconds. It really did taste good. He took the glass back.
"All right, climb on."
She jumped up and turned around, climbing on and placing her knees on the split bench, and draping her upper body over the wide section of padded black leather. Her elbows rested on the arm supports, and she lay her cheek to the side up at the top. She felt a strap go across her left ankle, then her right, then below her left and right knees. There was a strap over her waist, and straps just below her elbows and wrists. He knelt down in front of her face.
"Comfortable?"
"Yes, sir! Very."
He shook his head and smiled, then reached under the bench by her chin and brought up a clip, which he fastened to her collar. Now she couldn't even lift her shoulders up. She placed her cheek back down on the leather and relaxed into the feeling of being completely restrained.
"I'm going to make a couple of adjustments here."
She expected what came next – her legs began to swing to either side, opening her backside to his view, bringing her dripping pussy into the spotlight of his gaze. She was split open as far as the tendons in her thighs could go. The cool air on her skin provided an intense contrast to the burning heat of her arousal.
She didn't expect what came after that. She heard a noise and then her head and chest began to drop down. It wasn't more than a third of a meter, she figured, but with the tight straps across her waist and behind her knees, her ass was now thrust up into the air, the skin stretched tight. She felt another rush of wetness at being positioned like this, her ass and cunt offered up for his pleasure, perfectly positioned. She gave a quiet groan, her breathing already erratic with desire.
His hand dropped onto her skin, smoothing it. She felt his fingers slide down the curve into the valley that ran between her legs. His whole hand pushed into her folds and she felt him practically scooping the wetness up with his fingers. He pulled back out, trailing the wetness up, and pausing at her other opening. One slick finger worried at the tight opening before pushing past her resistance and entering.
Her languor vanished and she tensed. Her master had never taken her there. She'd been prepared for this at school; her opening had been fully stretched in preparation for being plundered by whoever purchased her, but her master wasn't interested in that area. She'd never asked why, and over the years since she'd left school, the opening had tightened up again.
He moved the tip of his finger around and nerve endings exploded. She moaned.
"You're tight," he whispered. "Is it possible you've never been taken here before?" He kept up the movement and she had trouble trying to respond as a thousand sparks radiated out from the small opening.
"Tell me," he insisted.
"No! " She gasped. "Master has never used me there. I don't know why. Ah!" Her cry rose as he pushed a second finger into the small place.
"Were you prepared back here before you were sold?"
Something about the way he said the word 'prepared' made her moan with a new burst of lust. "Yes!"
"Fuck." The word was agonized. What was wrong? If he wanted to take her back there, then he should.
He withdrew. She tried in vain to follow the retreating fingers but the straps held her firmly in place. She let out a cry of frustration. He stroked her skin, soothing her until she quieted.
He said nothing more, but she heard him pick up the flogger and she pushed all thoughts away, clearing her mind and going back to that deep space once more.
The flogger began to fall on her skin, warming and waking each centimeter. There was nothing painful about it. It was the most wonderfully relaxing thing she'd ever experienced, especially now that she was lying down and didn't have to think about standing. He worked his way up her back in the figure-8 pattern, covering every bit of skin over and over. The flogger on the still-tender skin felt warm and sting-y in a lovely way. He moved back down again, spending extra time on the skin of her ass. She sensed he was being very careful over the healing whip marks, but in truth each hit of the soft leather just added a zing that sent little jolts of pleasure through her. She made sure her soft cries told him exactly what she was feeling and he must have gotten the message, because she felt the strikes get harder.
He moved down the back of each leg, to the sole of each foot. She never would have believed how sensual it felt to be flogged there. She flexed her toes, relishing the sensation, and sighing when he moved away. He chuckled.
"I think someone likes having her feet flogged. We might have to explore that later."
"Oh, yes, please," she managed to choke out.
He moved back up to her ass again. Now the hits came harder. She began a steady breathing, riding on top of the waves of pain. She was still in bliss, but she wondered how hard he was going to go and hoped it wouldn't be so hard that she started begging to stop. Her master had often told her that it was always his decision when to stop, not hers; reaching her limits was irrelevant. Just that statement alone would flood her with such an intense submission she'd almost never felt the need to beg to stop. But she really wanted to enjoy tonight and worried that if James took her past that point, her arousal would disappear. She didn't want to disappoint him.
Just as she approached the point of crying out in real pain, the strokes softened. She relaxed in her bonds. He paused. She barely had time to wonder why, when a soft blow landed right between her legs. It didn't hurt, but the surprise of it sent her head flying up. She was caught up short by the hook on her collar. Another stroke landed in the same spot and she let out a cry. She struggled. Her mind was torn between extraordinary fear of her vulnerability, and the utter submission of her situation.
"Shh..." His hand stroked the hot skin of her ass. "Trust me."
She nodded and laid her head back down, trying to do just that.
"Besides, there's nothing you can do to stop me."
At that, she let out a sob of complete surrender. The flogger hit faster now, a whirling caress of leather that hurt so good, and she began panting in rhythm with the strikes, struggling against the straps, lost in sensations more intense than she'd ever felt in her life. She was being catapulted up the side of a mountain. Suddenly she was thrown off the cliff with an orgasm so intense she screamed. Every muscle convulsed. She couldn't breathe. She felt the flogger continue to strike, keeping her in breathless free-fall, and then it fell softer and softer, letting her down easy, until she came to rest at last with her head on the cool leather. Her cunt continued to twitch, the aftershocks like little fire sparks. She took in a great heaving, shuddering breath, the only voluntary thing her body could do.
She finally noticed his hand stroking her hair and she turned her head towards it, kissing his fingers. His hands moved to her back and she felt him loosen the strap over her hips. She struggled to gather her thoughts enough to speak.
"No, Master, no!" It was no more than a whisper, but his hands stilled.
"What's the matter?"
"Please don't let me go yet. Please fuck me. Please. In my ass."
"What?"
"Please, Master. I want it to be you. I want you to take me there for the first time. Please."
"Honey, you don't have to do that for me. I know you think you do, but you should give your ass up to someone because you want to, not because you think I have the right to take it, or that you somehow owe me."
"I know all that," she almost whispered, trying to understand all the conflicting messages her brain was sending to her: messages she'd been taught, messages she'd pushed aside to cope with her life, messages she'd received over the last few days. "And I want to. This is m
y choice. A real choice about my body, maybe for the first time in my life. If I can't give it to you, freely, someone will eventually take it from me anyway."
"But your ass hasn't been prepared. It's really tight. If I took you tonight, it would hurt, a lot."
She smiled at that. "I'm riding a wave of endorphins and arousal right now that is unbelievable. There's never going to be a better time. Or someone who will be as careful as you. Please?"
"And if it becomes too much for you? Could I trust you to tell me to stop?"
"It won't be." No matter how much it hurt, she wanted this – this one choice that she made, with her whole heart.
He was silent for so long she was starting to give up hope. Her limbs were starting to cramp. She needed him to say yes, or no.
"All right." She heard him go over to a drawer, presumably to get some lube. "But I'm going to spend a little time working you up to this. No hurrying me, understand?"
"Yes, sir." She relaxed her tensed-up muscles again.
He spent a long time playing with the area, inserting one and then two fingers, scissoring them, giving her time to breathe when the feeling got intense. Eventually he got three fingers in and she purred with the pleasurable burning of it. He talked to her softly the whole time, telling her how to push out, how to pant if it got intense. By this time, he needed some re-awakening of his own, and it was with great delight that she took his cock into her mouth, after he raised the head of the bench high enough to get her head level with his erection. She opened wide and was astonished when he slid all the way to the back of her throat without making her gag. His groans were like music as she sucked and tongued him into stiffness.
Memories of Surrender (Midrosian Chronicles Book 1) Page 11