Ana took turns, staring down at herself as Miranda worked and stealing glances at the girl in the mirror across from her.
“Do you know how beautiful you look?” Miranda asked, as she tied off the final rope and propped her chin on Ana’s shoulder to admire the corset she had created. Together, they studied Ana’s reflection. The tingling inside her built under the approving caress of Miranda’s gaze.
She liked this. Both the tightness of the rope and the warmth of Miranda’s wandering hands as she once more cupped her hips, tracing along the edge of rope and flesh down from her hips, across the slight dip of her abdomen, and then, boldly, further down until her hand was between Ana’s thighs. A shiver of wanting ran through her when Miranda cupped her pussy. As if she owned it. She did too. In this moment, there was no part of her that Miranda did not own.
Her heart hammered and her breath caught as Miranda palmed her, rubbing in firm circles that filled the heated air around them with both the sound and the scent of her growing arousal. Her cuffed wrists made the winch rock when her knees tried to buckle.
“Good girl,” Miranda whispered. “Your pussy’s all wet. It makes me wish I’d brought my cane, instead of the crop. I want to mark you. Not because you’ve done anything to deserve it, but because I want the whole world to see how much I adore you.”
Locked in the hug of that corset, with her clit throbbing just beneath Miranda’s possessive fingertips, there was nothing Ana wanted more. She wasn’t a fan of the crop either, at least not while it was being used. The sting was always so sharp, so breath-taking and intense. But when it was over, and her bottom burned under a lattice of lines that throbbed until she wasn’t sure if it hurt more than it felt good or felt good more than it hurt, Ana often found herself touching and twisting in an attempt to admire the marks left behind.
Fingers slipping into wetness, seeking with expert familiarity the heated entrance of Ana’s sex, Miranda whispered, “Would you like that, my lovely?”
“Yes,” Ana gasped, coming up onto her tiptoes with that first invading thrust. Her whole body turned molten, melting as those twin digits began to thrust.
“Yes, what?” Miranda purred, laying a path of gentle nips and heated kisses all the way to her ear.
Her thighs trembled. “Yes, Mistress.”
When Miranda let her go, Ana felt that loss in more than just the absence of body heat at her back. Every step that Miranda took away from her as she approached the table became a cavernous distance of separation. While Ana watched, Miranda picked through the implements gathered amongst the unused ropes. She located the crop she’d brought, only to set it aside in favor of a pink-plastic package. Ripping it open, when she returned to Ana it was with a plush black blindfold in her hands. Her teasing smile was the last thing Ana saw before Miranda slipped it over her head and adjusted the fit until no matter how she moved, the only thing Ana could see was the barest hint of light creeping in around her nose.
“Oh, I like this,” Miranda said, moving around to her front while her hands flowed down Ana’s cheek to her neck, and then her breasts. Warm breath upon her skin was Ana’s only warning before moist, hot lips closed upon the tip of Ana’s right nipple. She arched into the teasing lash of the tongue that circled the budding peak. Ana pressed her lips tight together, but not fast enough to stop a moan from escaping. “You’re mine now, my lovely. My little captive. I like this a lot.”
Goosebumps peppered her skin when Miranda let her go. She quivered, hearing as Miranda walked away again, and all the fine hairs on Ana’s body rose along with her awareness of their widening proximity. The wetness on her nipple chilled in the open air, tightening the eager flesh until all she could feel was her own racing pulse aching in the tips of both breasts. Plastic crackled as another wrapper was torn open.
“What is that?” Ana begged, not sure she truly wanted to know but trying blindly to see out from under the blindfold. Miranda did not answer, and Ana jumped all over again when the warmth of her fingers returned again to cup between her legs.
“Hold still,” she admonished, and Ana did try, but she was trembling all over now, the anticipation more than she could bear. Her breath fled when she both felt and heard Miranda kneel before her. She was the submissive in this relationship. Shouldn’t she be doing the kneeling?
“Oh!” Her whole body flinched into the unexpected touch of Miranda’s tongue flicking her navel, just beneath the lip of the ropes that bound her. Moist kisses followed, laying an electrifying trail down her abdomen before lingering on the soft swell of her mons, where the folds of her sex begged to be opened and her clit ached.
“Steady,” Miranda murmured, bestowing nothing more than a single teasing kiss where Ana was desperate to feel so much more. She stroked her hands down the trembling length of her legs, tickling at her left ankle and then the top of her foot. “Step.”
Without the winch to support her, she never would have held her balance long enough to obey. Miranda slipped something—vaguely weighted, panties perhaps—over her foot and up her leg. She put her left foot back on the floor only to have Miranda tickle the tops of the right.
“Step,” Miranda said again. When Ana obeyed, she felt the other half of the elastic band slide up past her ankle. Twin straps scraped lightly up her legs, but what she at first mistook for underwear, she quickly realized was something else. Something cool and much more solid than cloth bumped up against her sex.
She tensed, her breath catching all over again when Miranda parted her willing folds with her fingers, teasing Ana unbearably, each slight brush against her clit making her hips twitch in anticipation of more—unspoken demands that Miranda ignored as she nestled the contoured bulk of something more than just panties against her. “W-what is that?”
“Mama’s little helper,” Miranda replied, tightening the straps around the tops of each of her thighs and adjusting the lay of the piece between her legs until it was pressed snuggly in place. It felt almost like flesh, with bumps that slipped so easily over and around her clit. Another strap twined around her waist, buckling into place before Miranda secured the fit until all Ana could feel were those fleshy bumps growing slick and warm in the fluids of her growing arousal.
“What—” Ana gasped sharply when, her only warning the softest of clicks, the device abruptly came to vibrating life. It was like the Hitachi wand all over again. It arched Ana dancing up onto her toes and then sucked the strength right out of her legs. If it weren’t for the winch, she would have fallen straight to her knees.
The vibration was insidious, a steady pulse that hummed through her clit and moved out through the rest of her like ripples on water. Her cry mingled with Miranda’s throaty chuckle, but it wasn’t until she felt the cool caress of the crop lining up across the hills of her naked buttocks that she realized Miranda was no longer kneeling at her feet.
“Three strokes,” Miranda told her, letting her feel the whippy length. Her other hand combed up the back of Ana’s neck into her hair. She cried out again when Miranda gripped, pulling her head back far enough to nip the sensitive lobe of her ear and send those ripples to gyrating madly all through her belly and breasts. “Only three, my lovely, but they’re going to be hard enough to leave marks. Can you do that for me? Can you be my good girl and take only three?”
“Yes! Yes!” Ana strained against her bonds, though breaking free was the last thing she wanted. Her hips twitched, desperate to ride upon the device humming so wickedly against her.
“Yes, what?” Miranda coaxed.
“Yes, please!”
Miranda’s laugh was undermined by a sharp click, and suddenly the pulse of the vibrator changed, becoming a deeper, longer thrum. “I’ll accept so cheeky an answer, but only because I love to hear you beg.”
Three wasn’t bad. With a proper warmup, anyone, even Ana—who loved the sexiness of spankings, but had little tolerance for the sharper sting of the crueler implements—could do three strokes. Except
warmups diminished the subsequent welts they both craved, and Miranda was nothing if not true to her word. Sexy took a sharp backseat to the pain of the first snap as the crop lay its smarting kiss across the summit of her buttocks. Ana lurched onto tiptoes, sucking air and only just managing to bite back the involuntary cry that choked her throat. Pain bit into her as if with physical teeth, sinking into her flesh and growing sharper by the second. It was almost unbearable…almost.
“Good girl,” Miranda praised, pressing herself to Ana’s back, holding her tightly as she lay passionate kisses all across her shoulders, anywhere the rope did not hide her. “You took that so well.”
Two clicks and the thrum of the vibrator shot into a different pattern: two quick jolts followed by one so long and intense that it made her legs tremble along in time. Miranda cupped the vibrator, grinding it into her pussy until all she could feel were those rattling bumps and nubs, and the intensity of the pleasure slowly growing up over the flare of hurt until it had completely overwhelmed it.
“Ready?”
Shaking, Ana nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”
The crop snapped in, drawing a second line of fire and pain directly below the first and sending Ana arching back onto her toes. She gasped, but another click of the vibrator changed the pulse yet again—a single pulse now, starting low and slow, before building into a hard and fast shiver that left Ana panting.
“I am so proud of you,” Miranda said, pressing herself to Ana’s back once more. Her hands cupped Ana’s breasts, squeezing and molding them to her palms, plucking and pinching at her nipples until she could feel her breasts swelling, throbbing now in delicious time with the burning of the welts growing taut across her buttocks. “You are marking so vividly. It’s beautiful, lovely. Thank you for granting me this pleasure.”
For praise like that, Ana would have taken a dozen more from her evil crop, though she was grateful only one stroke remained.
Brushing her hand lightly across the lines on Ana’s bottom, Miranda moved away. Ana tried to brace herself, but it wasn’t the crop or the remaining lick of it that held her attention. The hum between her legs shook her. Her thighs quivered. So did her belly, clenching every time the rattle grew up from slow to fast, from difficult to impossible to ignore. The winch clanked from her constant shaking. The rattle of the cuff links nearly drowned out the softer, more subtle clink of a zipper descending and of a bright red leather dress being discarded. Somewhere in the blindfolded darkness, a hip harness was donned instead, the buckles clicking into place an unmistakable sound.
“One more,” Miranda said, as she came to take up her stance once more behind Ana. The length of the crop touched her bottom, measuring the next stroke and offering Ana time enough to brace for the final bite.
It came, but just before it struck, the vibrator changed its melody to the most aggressive setting yet. She felt the strike of the crop and her hips arched. The pain still bit in, the fire still flared, but her sex wept, quivering to the pulse of all those shivering nubs, a prisoner of the building orgasm that refused to be anything now but set free.
Another soft click changed it all. The intensity of the vibrations became a hard fucking pulse, a Morse code of fast jolts and drawn out hums that played havoc on her already spinning senses. She needed. She couldn’t remember when she had ever needed more desperately.
“I want you to come for me.” The softness of Miranda’s now naked breasts pillowed up against Ana’s back as she cupped Ana’s hips. She barely felt it through the thick constriction of the rope corset, but she imagined she could feel the beating of her loving heart, and she definitely felt the scrape of the harness straps against her welted bottom and the glide of something hard and phallic-shaped, pushing between Ana’s thighs to dip into the wetness there. A secondary click. Ana’s whole body jumped, but the vibrator strapped over her mons kept its ravaging tempo and instead, that hard piece between her legs began a shivering dance of its own. Miranda’s breath caught, then released in a sigh of pleasure against Ana’s shoulder. “Ah, that’s better. All right, my lovely. Let’s come together, shall we?”
It wasn’t her first experience with a strap-on, and when Ana felt that first pump of Miranda’s hip, gliding the rigid silicon along the lips of her sex, drenching the pseudo-flesh in the willing oils of her body, Ana tensed. Unwelcome images of that time before filled her—a whole lifetime ago, it some days felt—with her past girlfriend pinning her to force the acceptance of something she had never truly wanted.
“Breathe,” Miranda whispered. “It’s okay. Remember your safeword. You can use it any time and I won’t be angry. Just breathe, baby, and trust me if you can. I love you.” Her soft lips nibbled at Ana’s ear. “I love you.”
How could three such tiny words have the power to so completely banish the bad memories? She wanted to tell Miranda she loved her back, but the words stuck inside her, blocked by the guttural moan that swept out instead when Miranda cupped the butterfly vibrator against her mons. Her belly tensed, molten and hot. The building need for release raced up through her chest and down through her limbs, shaking her, demanding to be set free when all Ana could do was fight to hold it in.
And then she felt it, the backwards glide of the silicon as Miranda altered the angle of her hips, the touch of her fingers as she parted Ana, opening her up to the humming tip seeking entrance. A slow, even push invaded her, sinking deep to touch all those places that up until that moment only Miranda’s fingers, and lips, and tongue had loved.
It would never be her favorite way to make love, but Ana still came and came hard, with Miranda’s arms locked tight around her, her hands gripping her hips to control each advance and withdrawal. Her mouth conquering her with kiss after passionate kiss, across her shoulders, up her neck, suckling at that spot directly behind her ear because she knew—as she always knew—exactly where to touch to make Ana’s knees go weak and her body soar.
Miranda’s own coming was softer, but no less intense. Ana felt the minute loss of control as the thrusts became quicker, more erratic. She pushed her hips back, offering total surrender to the only woman in the world she could not imagine ever living without. She felt, like a blossom of heated longing, Miranda’s shivering sigh, accompanied by the minute jerking of her hips that were already dissolving into contented undulations, as she found her own completion.
The room fell quiet, except for the raggedness of both their breathing, the muffled noises from the Dungeon outside, and the steady drip-drip-dripping of whatever soundtrack the Dungeon Master had seen fit to pipe through these private rooms.
“My lovely,” Miranda whispered, stroking her—her hair, her arms. All the contented parts of Ana that she could reach.
“My Mistress,” Ana whispered back, her belly trembling to the convulsions of tiny, orgasmic aftershocks. “I love you, too.”
Mistress mine.
Phoenix Spanked by Jessica E. Subject
Lucinda swiped the match, setting it ablaze. As she brought the fire to the wick of the red candle, she stared into Tavo’s eager gaze.
“You’re sure this will work?” He drummed his fingers across the table, offering a smile that quickly faded.
She nodded, confident the Alpha of the local wolf pack would soon be paired with the love of his life. Not from the spell they were about to perform, though. No, she had already arranged for his mate, Erica, to “run into” Tavo at the grocery store the next day. The two could not be more perfect for each other. Almost as much as she and Marta. Tavo only needed the assistance of the spell she was about to cast to give him the confidence he needed to ask the tiger shifter to dinner. Not what one would expect of someone so respected in the community, yet no one but Lucinda knew how much his mate intimidated him. And with a heavy dose of courage, he could be Alpha around Erica, too.
Once the wick flared, Lucinda shook the match free of its flame. She reached across the tablecloth, joining hands with her client. “Now, repeat after me—”<
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A breeze swept across Lucinda’s face. The flapping of heavy wings surrounded her, scattering her collection of herbs and spell books across the floor. The candlelight flickered and died.
“In the name of the Mother Goddess.” She stood and faced the source of the commotion, her wife. A phoenix with golden feathers covering her magnificent wings. “How many times have I told you not to fly through the house?”
Marta folded her wings behind her and stared at the floor, her dusty-rose hair falling over her beautiful face. “I’m sorry. It’s just.... My time is coming, and you know how antsy I get right before.” She dug the pointed toe of her heeled black boot into the floor. “I forgot.”
Lucinda stepped forward and tucked her wife’s hair behind her ear. Yes, she knew. With every change, she’d been present. She cupped Marta’s cheek, smiling when her wife met her gaze. No way could she truly be mad, especially when she fought to resist the appeal of her full lips, now in a pout. All frustration faded, replaced by raging desire. Cupping the back of her head, she slipped her fingers into Marta’s hair and kissed her, enjoying the quick gasp in response. Sliding between her parted mouth, she swept inside and claimed her lover. Heat balled low in her belly and her head buzzed with unending lust. Every thrust of her tongue drew moans of pleasure and kept her seeking more.
Lucinda gripped her lover’s hips, drawing her closer. A growl emanated from behind, and she spun around, drawing in a long-needed breath.
Tavo stared at them with deep-brown eyes. Dark, shaggy hair covered his arms and face where they had been bare only moments before. Pointed canines stuck out over his bottom lip. “Why do you torture me?”
“Sorry, Tavo. I couldn’t help myself.” Around Marta, she had little to no control over her passion, regardless of her intentions.
“Why can’t you just let me be a part of what you two have? There’s enough of me for you both.”
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