Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine's Day Stories

by Sierra Cartwright

  She raised her right arm.

  He secured her in place and watched her tug against the fabric strap, testing it.

  “Can you pull out?”

  “No.”

  “How are you doing?”

  “Uhm...” Jennifer turned her head to look at him. “I think it’s okay.”

  “Yellow?” When she didn’t immediately reply, he went on, “Take a steadying breath and then answer.” He stood in front of her so he could study her reactions.

  She exhaled deeply. “I’m okay.”

  “Good.” He smoothed a wayward lock of hair back from her forehead. “It’s okay to give yourself over to the full experience, and remember you can stop it at any time. Let me know when you’re ready to continue.”

  After a few moments, she nodded. She kept her gaze on him as he secured her left wrist in place. “How’s that?”

  She tested both bonds, and they held her firm. “It’s a bit uncomfortable.”

  When he moved in to loosen her, she clarified, “I think it’s more mental than physical.”

  “Try to stay in the moment. You were right that you’ll do better if you quit thinking about it. Right now, you’re fine. Don’t worry about what’s next. One thing at a time.”

  “That’s probably good advice in all areas of life.”

  “Yeah.” Something he needed to learn as well. Totally focused on her, he said, “I want you to spread your legs only as far as comfortable. I don’t want you stressing any muscles.” Once she’d done as he asked, he bent to fasten her ankles to the X. As he expected, she tried to draw her thighs together.

  He waited, giving her the time to figure out how much she could move. “How are you doing now?”

  “Nervous,” she admitted. “But I’m not scared.”

  Her eyes were wide as he picked up the flogger and stood in front of her.

  He swept his gaze over her, from her spiked hair to the luscious swell of her breasts to her slim waist, curvy hips, and strong legs. In her bondage, Jennifer was breathtaking. In that moment, with her on the cross, the weight of the flogger in hand, he realized he’d lied to Joe the other day. Logan had missed dominating a submissive. Until now, he hadn’t realized how badly.

  Wordlessly, he trailed the hilt down the column of her neck and paused at the hollow of her throat.

  Her mouth parted.

  Still using the flogger’s handle, he followed the outline of her bra cups. The lingerie was sheer enough that he saw her nipples bead.

  He continued on, tracing downward, between her ribs, down her belly, then lower. Her breaths came in an audible staccato, and her eyes were unbelievably wide, unblinking.

  Through her panties, he teased her pussy.

  “Oh. That’s...”

  “Tell me, Jennifer.”

  “Sexy. Hard.”

  He adjusted his grip and pressed the flogger’s hilt lengthwise between her labia. “I want you to hump it.”

  Deep red stained her cheeks. Logan was willing to bet no one had ever asked her to do something like this, which made him doubly glad he had.

  “Logan—”

  “Master Logan,” he corrected.

  Her beautiful blue eyes were still open wide, fringed by impossibly long lashes.

  “There’s no one here but us. If something’s outside your bounds, fine. Say so. Otherwise, hump this flogger immediately.”

  She gasped but tilted her pelvis forward.

  He nudged the handle a little higher, holding it hard against her clit.

  Their gazes fused, and he willed her not to look away. “Now,” he snapped to break her out of her locked-in thought pattern.

  Somewhat awkwardly, she rocked back and forth.

  “Good,” he encouraged. “Give me more.”

  She shuddered.

  “Faster. I want your pussy slick. I want your juices on the leather.”

  “Logan... Master...”

  “Good girl. Ride it.”

  She gyrated, pulling against her bonds and leaning forward as much as the X would allow.

  He repeated approving words, kept her labia spread, continued to keep the handle pressed into her pussy. “Close your eyes,” he instructed a few seconds later.

  Once she did, her inhibitions seemed to vanish.

  Her movements became freer. She no longer just moved awkwardly, she all but caressed the leather with her clit.

  The pungent scent of her arousal drifted toward him, intoxicating him.

  Since the hilt slid more easily, he moved a hand to her breast. He squeezed a nipple and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.

  She moaned.

  “That’s it.”

  The New Age song trailed away and was replaced by a Gregorian chant. He began to stroke her pussy, and she gyrated faster and quicker. He was into this, into her. “Are you going to give me your orgasm, sub?”

  “Oh...”

  “Jennifer?”

  “Yes. Oh, God!” Her body stiffened.

  “Ride it out. Give it to me.”

  She opened her eyes, looked at him, into him.

  Right then, nothing existed but them...and her pleasure.

  “I...”

  “Do it.”

  With a scream and a sigh, she bent her knees. The bonds captured her weight, and he reacted, releasing her nipple and reaching behind her to support her ass even as he increased the pressure of the hilt against her pussy.

  She tipped her head back, closed her eyes, and screamed as her body jerked.

  Finally, endless seconds later, her head rolled forward.

  He leaned in and kissed the side of her neck, then slowly moved his hand from beneath her buttocks.

  “That...”

  “Yeah.” He grinned. “That.” Logan lowered the flogger, and she gave another involuntary squirm. “Many times a sub thanks her Dom for an orgasm.”

  She pressed her lips together.

  He raised a brow. “Otherwise, in the future he may bring her to the brink, then leave her there.”

  “For how long?”

  “She might be lucky if she’s allowed to come at all during the scene.”

  “Oh my God. Are you serious?”

  He didn’t respond.

  “What I mean is, thank you, Master Logan.”

  “You’re a quick study, Jennifer. It was my pleasure.” He stroked a finger down her jawbone. She turned into his touch.

  Desire lanced him. He hadn’t just missed playing with a sub, he’d missed being with someone like her, innocent, trusting, new. Experiencing this through her eyes was heady indeed.

  He slowly lowered his hand, then rehung the flogger before looking at her. “How are you doing? Mentally? And the bonds?”

  “Everything is good.”

  Her tone was strong, and she met his gaze without looking away. “So now are you ready for me to unfasten your bra so I can clamp your nipples before the flogging begins?”

  “Ah...”

  “You have a safe word,” he reminded her.

  She didn’t reply right away. He studied her. Was it time to push? Or time to let her succumb to doubt? He recalled that she’d bought herself a set of clamps. “It’s like the bondage,” he went on. “If it’s too much, you can always change your mind. And it’s not as if this is your only opportunity to scene.” For a man who’d avoided relationships for so long, the realization that his words sounded like an invitation stunned him.

  “I’m willing to try.”

  “That’s not good enough,” he bit out. “Tell me: Please, Master Logan. Put the clamps on my nipples.”

  Jennifer drew her eyebrows together. A potent mixture of apprehension and arousal played in her eyes, making her pupils flare. “You’re relentless.”

  “Do you really want it any other way?”

  From the sounds of her shortened breaths, he knew he was giving her what she wanted.

  “Please put the clamps on my nipples, Master Logan.”

  He wasn’t sure h
e could deny her anything.

  Logan walked behind her to unhook her bra and move the cups out of the way. Then he went to stand in front of her again. Her breasts were gorgeous, full, and her nipples were a deep dusky brown. At some point, he’d love to use his crop on them.

  He picked up the set of clamps, but instead of affixing them right away, he sucked each nipple into his mouth, starting gently, making her moan.

  When he could once again smell her arousal, he plumped her right nipple. When it was swollen, he tugged on it, elongating it before clamping it.

  She hissed in a breath.

  He played with her breast, waiting for the first blush of pain to fade.

  “Damn,” she said.

  “Halfway there.”

  “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

  When he noticed she’d unclenched her hands, he asked, “Ready?”

  “I... Yes.”

  Rather than immediately placing the gripper, he decided to play with her. Over her panties, he slid his finger slowly back and forth across her pussy.

  “Oh, Master Logan...”

  He took his time, bringing her to the edge of an orgasm. He moved away to attach the clamp, but before she could complain, he put his hand back between her legs. “Ask for it.”

  “Please,” she said with no hesitation. “Please let me orgasm, Master Logan.”

  “Wait,” he warned, voice stern. She rose onto the balls of her feet and squeezed her eyes shut, seeking release, but not daring. The woman was an absolute natural. Selfishly, he was glad she’d had a disappointing scene with Master Simon. Logan wanted her for himself. He leaned closer, mouth against her ear, and slipped his fingers under her panties before entering her. Then he said, “Come now, Jennifer.”

  She screamed as she climaxed.

  The cross and the bonds caught her weight, and he wrapped an arm around her waist. Yeah. She was perfect. And his. For tonight, if nothing else.

  Chapter Four

  From somewhere distant, Jennifer heard Logan speaking. Master Logan.

  “How was it?”

  She wasn’t sure she could explain her feelings. But she was aware of him looking at her, watching, waiting. “Not what I was expecting.” More than she’d hoped. Her nipples felt swollen, and they throbbed unbearably. Not from pain, but from something else, maybe longing for more.

  All of a sudden, she understood the dreamy expression that came over Noelle’s face when she talked about intimate times with her husband.

  Jennifer almost always orgasmed when she had sex, but this time had been more powerful than any other. Being out of control, commanded to wait, then being shoved from the precipice had been sublime.

  Logan been there the whole time, never more than a couple of feet away, touching her. And when she’d come, he’d given her the support of his body as well as his confidence.

  She felt connected to him in a way she hadn’t with anyone else.

  It overwhelmed her.

  “Are you ready to continue?”

  She might come undone without the mastery of his body. “Yes.” Then she remembered his earlier prompting. “Please.”

  Devilment danced in his eyes, and his scar no longer seemed as deeply pronounced. She wondered if the fact he’d made her feel so safe took away the perception of danger. A flash of feminine intuition warned her the thought was a risky one. Men didn’t get scars like that from choosing a safe, secure life.

  “How do your nipples feel?”

  Now that the height of the orgasm had faded, she was aware of a dull ache. “They’re throbbing a little,” she admitted.

  He plumped her breasts.

  She sucked in a breath. The sensation was exquisite, wonderful, sharp, delicious, addictive.

  “Just a little?”

  “Yes, Master Logan.”

  “Let’s see about that.” He threaded an index finger though each of the slender metal rings that were attached to the ends and yanked.

  The shocking pain made her scream.

  “That’s better,” he said.

  “Fuck me.” Her clit throbbed as arousal crashed into her.

  Logan grinned.

  She realized his action had been calculated. The man knew how to turn her on.

  With an achingly gentle motion, he smoothed his thumbs over the tips of her breasts.

  She gulped a breath, then let it out in a soft sigh. The juxtaposition of the sensual and the painful caused her synapses to misfire.

  “How are you doing?” he asked as he released the rings.

  “Fine,” she admitted. “Surprisingly.”

  A lock of hair had fallen onto her forehead, and he smoothed it back before again pressing a finger against her clit.

  She rocked forward, silently asking for more.

  “So needy,” he said.

  “Yes.” She looked at him through the fringe of her eyelashes. “I want you to flog me. Or let me come again. Or take off the clamps. Something.” All she knew was, she was crawling out of her mind.

  When he didn’t react, her thoughts tumbled. Then she remembered he wanted to be addressed formally. “Sir,” she pleaded.

  “My pleasure.”

  As she watched, he unfastened the buttons at his wrists and turned back his cuffs. She couldn’t look away from his strong hands or the sinews in his forearms. This man...

  He placed a finger beneath her chin and tipped it back. “Tell me your safe word.”

  “Marshmallow.”

  “You wrinkle your nose every time you say that.”

  The conversation seemed friendly, at odds with her being secured to the St. Andrew’s cross, half-naked, nipples clamped, and a mad ache between her thighs.

  “And if you need to slow down?”

  “Yellow. Can we get on with it?”

  His eyes flared with desire. This was so much more than she’d anticipated.

  Rather than responding, he picked up the flogger.

  She squirmed, in fear, in anticipation. Logan looked bigger than he had, broader, more intimidating. Heaven help her, it thrilled her. The throbbing in her nipples intensified.

  He moved behind her, increasing her feeling of helplessness.

  She expected to feel the leather searing her skin. Instead, he trailed his fingers across each of her shoulders, then down her spine, stopping at the top of her panties. Suddenly Jennifer wished she had been brave enough to strip entirely. She wanted his touch on her bare skin.

  Through the material of her underwear, he rubbed her buttocks before trailing lower to her thighs.

  As she relaxed, she spread her fingers wide and pressed against the wood.

  “That’s right,” he said soothingly.

  He made smaller and smaller circles, and her body tingled.

  She closed her eyes. Eventually there seemed to be nothing but the sounds of monks chanting and her own rapid breaths.

  Then...silence reverberated.

  In response to the fear that started to sneak in, she tightened her muscles.

  “If you relax, it won’t hurt as much.”

  She took a steadying breath before exhaling.

  He draped the leather strands over her shoulder, then drew them down in a sensual caress.

  The first fall against her buttocks felt like a light sting.

  “Unclench your ass,” he told her.

  “I’m trying.”

  He stroked her back with his hand and with the flogger’s strands.

  “Let go. Surrender. Experience.”

  He stunned her by reaching between her legs to play with her damp pussy.

  She bent her knees as much as she could, seeking. “More,” she begged, wanting him inside her. “Please.”

  “You’ll get everything you want.”

  He moved away and gave her the first hit that truly hurt.

  She stiffened. Then, remembering his coaching, she forced out a breath.

  Another strike fell, followed by several more, one after another.
>
  Her dreams had not come close to the thrill of reality. The leather was wicked and sensuous, all at the same time. It burned, stung, and when the sensations receded, she was left with an unfulfilled need crawling through her. She was turned on, horny, desperate.

  Her nipples hardened, throbbing.

  He went on and on, the tips of the strands landing on her buttocks and thighs, her back.

  He seemed to hit every place at once, in dull, biting thuds.

  “Breathe,” he coached her. “Surrender.”

  She did, giving up the struggle, willing her muscles to soften.

  He then flogged her in earnest, back and forth, crisscrossing her body, blazing trails of sensation.

  Jennifer’s entire being rose to another level of awareness. The temperature seemed to get hotter, and she began to perspire. She felt supple. As he’d suggested, she allowed the restraints to be a saving grace, and she curled her hands around them for extra support.

  Then, as if intuitively reading her mind, Logan increased the pressure.

  He hit her ass so hard the wind was knocked out of her. Immediately, her pussy got wetter. The clamps bit deeper.

  “You’re doing well.”

  She wasn’t sure whether she was or she wasn’t. All she knew was she hoped he wouldn’t stop.

  For long minutes, he rhythmically flogged her. A light, glancing blow made her sigh. Then he caught her beneath her buttocks with a sharp upward swing, and she screamed.

  “That’s it, on your toes.”

  His constant hits made her squirm. Then they became worse. “Oh, God.” She wasn’t sure whether she said it out loud or it echoed in her head.

  Relentlessly, he continued. His next few dozen hits seared her. Yellow raced through her mind, but before she could form it, he changed his pattern, hitting her with infinitely gentle smacks. This was more of a dance. And then all of her thoughts ceased.

  Her eyes were closed, but she saw twinkling lights, so blue they appeared white.

  She stopped struggling, with him, the process, herself. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized what he’d meant when he’d told her to do that, but now she did. There was no conflict, just a calm acceptance, then an expectation, a welcoming.

  From somewhere distant, she heard a bell ringing, then the sound of chants, softly, then louder. She seemed to be floating, simultaneously somewhere and nowhere at all.

  Every part of her body vibrated, and she’d never been needier.