desire for Touch: a M/F, D/s love story (RiverHart Book 1)

by Adira August

  Perhaps on the ride home, he thought as he slipped his fingers under the elastic waist of her panties to slide them down before he picked up the leather paddle.

  Avia didn’t know when he would start spanking her, and at this moment she didn’t care. The feel of his hands on her was lovely. Sensual. She couldn’t tell where his hands stopped and her skin began. She felt as if every nerve ending his hands passed over hummed with pleasure.

  When his thumbs passed so close to her anus, she didn’t pull away or feel any flush of humiliation. Somehow, the scrap of fabric between them gave her the freedom to accept his touch and the arousal it brought. A sweet, lazy arousal, that spread through her body.

  But this effect wasn’t from the preciseness of placement or pressure of hands. It was from the movement of his hands, that seemed to suffuse her flesh with the aura of energy that surrounded him. She was dimly aware he had slipped his fingers under the the top of her panties and that they were carried along as his palms swept over and down her buttocks.

  Her panties were soon stretched tightly across her at mid-thigh. They remained there when his left hand pulled back and gently circled her cheeks. His right hand had left her. The left hand then slid one more time, over and down, his long fingers finding the crease where cheeks met thighs. His fingers curved over her, pulled back, stretched her gently as he had before, but this time hesitating.

  shhwip!

  She barely had time to gasp at the sharp sound of the paddle before it came down on the other side, shhwip! And before she could rouse herself from her state of extreme relaxation to tense, she became of aware of the deliciousness of the deep tingling that quickly warmed and felt ... it felt …

  sshwip! sshwip! Just above the first two strokes.

  It feels so good. Again and again she heard the sharp slap of the paddle, felt the glancing contacts (she couldn’t think of them as “blows”) and his instruction came back to her to pay attention. And so she did, anticipating, craving the stimulation. The spreading warmth. She paid close attention to his fingers moving from place to place, knowing that is where he’d spank her next.

  He paused and ran his palm over her skin, spreading the warm fizzing energy. He started again - sshwip! - sshwip! - along the sides of her buttocks the flat paddle hadn’t reached. Again and again. She was squirming with every smacking slap, wondering if it would get harder, hurt too much for her to take. But hoping it would get a just a little harder.

  But he stopped. She felt him put the paddle down - lean over her and lay one forearm across the top of her thighs, as if bracing her. With the other, he grabbed the taut line of her panties, twisted and yanked. She felt a split-second of them cutting into her, resisting him and then they simply gave way with a brief ripping sound. Holy shit. Her arousal spiked.

  He leaned back, his left hand sweeping her thighs - sshwip! - sshwip! - on the back of each. He started mid-thigh and worked his way up - sshwip! - sshwip! - faster - sshwip! - sshwip!

  He reached the rise of her cheeks and paused, the fingers of his left hand stroking up the insides.

  Avia tensed - he wouldn’t hit her there on the insides, where the flesh was so - sshwip! ... sshwip! - “Ah!” She cried out anticipating the pain.

  It was different. The insides were more sensitive and more of the paddle made contact. An oblong of heat bloomed inside each thigh.

  - sshwip! - sshwip! - He moved up closer to her pussy. The next contacts would be right there - sshwip! - sshwip! The heat from the paddle strokes raced along her vulva to her entrance.

  A vision of him using the paddle directly on her, between her legs, rose in her imagination. Her pelvis shifted, thrusting up. She spread her own knees further apart, her feet drawing up a few inches, allowing her warm bottom to rise even more, seeking the slap and sting. Entreating him for release.

  Ben Hart was a man who’d spent years attuning himself to the responses of his Companions. He was well-versed in their variety and knew how to attend to each, giving them more, less, different, as the individual companion needed. He was never more comfortable with a woman than when he was spanking her to orgasm.

  But the responsiveness of this woman, who so firmly resisted even the idea of spanking as a positive sensual experience, rocked him, her body clearly begging him to spank her genitals. He knew her reactions were more unconscious response than bold intention. His job was to choose the action that would bring her to the most satisfying conclusion.

  He’d have to bring down her level of excitement. He could do that with some judiciously applied pain. He needed to refocus her, so he could build her arousal more slowly.

  Abandoning his plan for a second layer with the slapper, he picked up the bat, instead. Placing his left hand flat on her sacrum above her ass, he pressed her down, holding her motionless against the top of his thigh. “Did you forget who decides when you come?” He snapped.

  She was panting and still trying to squirm. He flicked the short crop sharply and the keeper thwapped loudly and stung her under her right cheek.

  “Ah!” She cried out and jerked reflexively away. But he pressed her down harder. Flick! Left cheek.

  “You!” She raised her head from the pillow. “You decide.”

  Flick! Left thigh. ... Flick! Right cheek. ... Flick! Left cheek.

  “Sir!” She gasped, finally, on the sharper last strike. “You decide, Sir.”

  “Correct,” He said coldly. “And who decides how to spank you?”

  “You do, Sir.” She answered promptly.

  “Say it,” he ordered, to trigger her humiliation reflex so she’d experience her submission more deeply. He heard the muffled whine deep in her throat, saw her clit spasm, disappear and reappear. She buried her face in the pillow, resisting him.

  C’mon, Avia, he urged her in his mind. You love this more than you ever thought you could. Surrender to it. He targeted the outer curves of her buttocks. Flick! … Flick!

  “Submit!” He demanded harshly, ready to up the intensity another notch.

  THWAP!

  “Ah!” The first contact with the crop startled her, and she instantly jerked her hips to escape. But he held her motionless. Then she felt the pain. Focused. Sharp. She pushed and twisted against him. But his hand was an implacable rod, holding her still. – THWAP! - again the bite, and her clit throbbed. No!

  “You, you decide!” She said. – THWAP! – back of her thigh – THWAP! - right ass – THWAP! - left ass - Fuck! I forgot…

  “Sir,” she barely had breath to speak, “You decide, Sir.” She hoped to appease him, to get him back to the paddle, and wondered how it would feel over the very distinct spots of heat the crop had left behind.

  But he wasn’t to be distracted from disciplining her right here and now with precisely landed licks of the crop in demand of her submission.

  “Say it,” he ordered.

  No, please, don’t make me say that … Her clit burned at the thought of it. Of humiliating herself to him, saying the thing she’d sneered at ... no, no, oh, you bastard, you bastard you’ll make me come … I’ll come and he’ll know and own me. She turned away and the crop went to work.

  THWAP! THWAP!

  “Submit!”

  Son-of-a-bitch! The pain was harder, deeper, hotter and she knew there was no length to which he would not go to get her to comply.

  “You …” she panted, “... you decide … how to …” she felt the flush of humiliation spread like heat lightening up her neck and face under the blindfold. “... spank me, Sir.”

  Her aching core spasmed on the frustrating void. Her whole vulva heated and swelled and she felt her wetness on her thighs as she gave him what he demanded. But she didn’t come, her legs bowed and spread, opened her too far.

  “Again,” he ordered. “You don’t sound convinced.

  She wanted him to use that crop again and again. She wanted the leather that spanked her now to land on her pussy next to her clit. One side and the other, faster and faster, making her burn
until the leather opened her slick folds and pressed her clit and made her come.

  She wanted it so instantly and urgently she had no time to even think of denying her desire. And with that realization, something broke. Some barrier she’d erected against her own responses, and so, against him. Her hands relaxed and her body followed. All she wanted now was to take whatever he gave, accept every touch and strike, experience every sensation.

  “You decide how to spank me, Sir,” She said quietly. Anything, anything you want. Just don’t stop.

  He put down the crop and used both hands to lightly soothe her, giving special attention to the pink blooms of heat where the keeper made contact with her skin. He’d chastised her more intensely than he would normally at this point, to get her attention, to compel her obedience.

  But except for the initial attempt to pull away, a reaction of surprise more than pain, he suspected, she’d accepted it well. Very well, as testified to by the subtle undulations of her hips and the increased wetness between her legs.

  Her last response was calm, and he believed she’d come to terms with herself. He decided he’d stay at the higher intensity. It would slow her sexual response at first, but later, greatly heighten it as her spanking progressed.

  Ben picked up the crop.

  Both his large, warm hands were on her, his fingers finding each place the crop had kissed her, lightly circling and stroking and she was lost in the sensation, the pain that wasn’t pain. Her cunt relaxed and her desperate need to orgasm abated.

  She felt his right hand leave her, and knew he was reaching for an implement. He shifted her slightly, his left hand sliding up and down the insides of both thighs and over the mounds of her ass, as if making sure she was still positioned correctly for him.

  “Good, Avia,” he spoke to her now in his comforting voice, intimate and warm. “You’re doing very well. Beautifully relaxed. Just let go. I’ll take care of you. Pay attention. Do not forget to breathe.”

  His hand swept over her again. “I’m going to spank you with the crop until all of your ass is rosy and humming.”

  He brought the crop back, petting her with the leather end. “And then, Avia,” He said, his voice full of dark promise. “I’ll let you feel my hand.”

  His hand. Her sight-deprived brain instantly conjured a vision of her across his lap, her legs apart on the pillow, his hand in the air, dropping down, meeting her reddened skin. She buried her face in the pillow, knowing she would not be able to keep any words that rose to her lips inside.

  “Do not forget to breathe.”

  Disciplinary strokes didn’t count, yet. And he only gave her one instruction. She pulled her face back from the pillow and lay her cheek on it, giving herself air. Whatever she said, she said. She intended to pay attention.

  His left hand moved over her buttocks and down, his fingers and thumb feeling along the crease, he pulled back -

  THWAP! THWAP! The keeper stung her once on each side. THWAP! THWAP! One the outside of each cheek. THWAP! THWAP! On the back of each thigh.

  As he wielded the crop, she kept herself relaxed, all her focus on her ass and thighs, on the singular feelings of pain and heat, energy and arousal. Impossible pleasure.

  She realized there was a rhythm, regularity, a count of four - THWAP! THWAP! . . . . THWAP! THWAP! . . . .

  “Oh, God,” she moaned aloud. “Oh, please …” Her hips rolled slightly.

  THWAP! THWAP! He spanked her steadily, two strikes, on matching spots on either side of her body. But where he’d strike next she had no idea. And even when he’d swipe his left hand over her cheeks or thighs, smoothing the hot pink stains the crop left on her skin, her spanking continued unabated. THWAP! THWAP! . . . . THWAP! THWAP! . . . . Inexorable. Inescapable.

  She wanted to beg and she did, but she wasn’t sure for what. “Please …” she breathed and wanted to say more - more - harder - faster - please … but she only said the one word, because he knew best what she really wanted.

  So she focused on every astoundingly pleasureable THWAP! of the leather keeper. She broke out in a sheen of perspiration, tried to keep her body very still to not distract herself from the feel of the blows, the thud to pain to heat to need. But she couldn’t help begging him.

  “Oh, God, oh God, oh, please - please, Sir - please …” But she would not say his name. In some part of her mind she reserved for herself alone, she would not make it him who pleasured her with such exquisite torment. She focused on the object, the crop.

  THWAP! THWAP! . . . . inside her thighs, the sensitive folds between her legs again swollen, slick and aching. Desire coursed like a line of fire along her vulva, licking into her vagina, along her perineum to her anus that pulsed for attention.

  She felt hypnotized by the sound and the stimulation. THWAP! THWAP! . . . THWAP! THWAP! . . THWAP! . THWAP! . THWAP! Faster, now.

  Paired no longer, sharp and hard, the leather bit in what seemed random spots and she could not stop her hips from rolling, rising, seeking as the heat of her arousal flew up her spine. Her nipples itched and ached, every squirm rubbed them, sweat slicked and hard, against the leather. She pressed down, shoulders rotating, trying to increase the friction.

  His hand came down in the center of her back, stopping the motion, holding her still. The keeper harder now, the bite sharper. THWHAP! . THWHAP! . THWHAP!

  “Please, oh no, please, oh, please …” she whispered, barely conscious of anything but the pinpoints of energy coating her in a flaming blanket of unbearable need. Every square centimeter between her legs burned so strongly she thought she might actually blister. How can it burn like this and not be pain?

  He stopped.

  NO! Touch me, touch me, touch me once, just one flick, one slap or stroke or press … He laid down the crop and used both his hands to oh, so gently stroke her skin. She cried out, burying her face, at the sudden unbelievable doubling every sensation, she wanted to scream and force him inside her somehow.

  Instead, she willed herself to relax and his hands moved down and onto her thighs and then over and inside and ... he pulled her legs apart even more.

  “No, no, no, no …” she moaned and tried to straighten her legs. But she felt him with the tether in his hand, take a wrap and tighten it and she was helpless.

  “Yes, Avia. Oh, yes,” he said in that deep baritone that resonated from somewhere behind his collarbone when he was hard and controlling himself for her. Something like a choked growl came from her.

  “Yes,” he said more firmly. “I said you would feel my hand. And now you will.”

  He lifted her hips. His left arm slid underneath, his hand splayed flat against her abdomen, holding her up. His solidly muscled arm clamped her waist tight to his hip and held her there. His fingers reached her pubic mound and the tips pressed against the bone just above her desperately burning clit. an inch … not even an inch …

  She wanted to climb up his forearm, thrust her clit onto his fingers. Her pelvis bucked and twisted.

  THWAP! THWAP!

  The crop was back on her ass with a vengeance. Fuck that hurt! She froze and made herself relax.

  He shifted his leg and lifted her ass so her thighs were at right angles to her cheeks. The undercurve of her buttocks were now in line with her thighs and he could look directly into her open heated flesh. All she could think was how strong he was and how helpless she was.

  He laid his wide right hand on her, against the well-spanked bottoms of her cheeks, over her clenching opening, and across the tops of her thighs. His hand massaged her, slowly circling, and she thought she might literally lose consciousness from the intensity of her arousal. Thoroughly inarticulate, she could not form a protestation or plea.

  And then his hand left her and came down in that same place. SMACK!

  She shouted and strangled on the sound - SMACK! - his hand connected again in that exact spot -

  SMACK! - “Aahhhhhhhhhhhh,” an undulating cry, higher and higher - SMACK! Always on the same spot,
over her cunt. White-hot plasma shot up her vagina, spread and concentrated. … oh, God, it … it ...

  SMACK! And her clit seemed to explode, pouring burning oil over every bit of aching swollen tissue. A harsh groaning came from her chest as she struggled not to scream with the unbearable need …

  His hand came again, slow, steady, solid -

  SMACK! … SMACK! … SMACK!

  The orgasm rose up in her like an underground explosion, racing out from her core to every to every organ, through her pelvis, up her spine, along her limbs. Her neck arched back, her mouth opened but no cry came out. She was paralyzed by the pleasure, no thoughts, no words, no actions, just … paying attention.

  It didn’t come in waves, it was simply a presence that grew and grew and she a mindless form, heating and melting.

  Something huge and hard thrust into and her burning core clutched greedily around it as the power streamed through her. Still she could make no sound but only breathe and feel - and - oh, God, he’s inside me - yes yes yes - but she couldn’t fuck back against his steel-hard cock, herself.

  She couldn’t move and as some semblance of conscious thought was able to form in her mind she realized that he’d shifted her, bent her over the couch cushion with her knees on something lower.

  She was completely restrained, his legs like iron bands, trapping hers, his body laid over her, his cock, huge and hot, pressed into her, motionless inside her. His abdomen and legs lay against her ass and thighs where he’d spanked her, his whole body connected to hers, his arms locked around hers, her fingers laced with his and held motionless, his face hard against hers, beard prickly needles in her skin so she could not move.

  His hips pulsed slowly, a slight backward motion and he’d thrust again, over and over, in time with the spasms that were now strengthening and she had to take it all, every bit of the energy he’d forced into her, every frisson of desire stored. She could not move, she had to feel it. Feel it all. She felt and absorbed and it was … beyond, so far beyond any idea of pleasure.