“Yes, Sir.”
Being on hands and knees was horribly uncomfortable, and she was hoping his words meant she could stand, but obviously, he was just reinforcing his rules.
Once she was in the bedroom, she gaped.
The space had been converted into a playroom.
The floors were a highly glossed wood.
A spanking bench dominated the middle of the floor. A St. Andrew’s cross was pushed to one side. Dozens of items were affixed to the wall, from bondage paraphernalia to gags and plugs, to whips, canes, and floggers.
It was a masochist’s dream.
There were only a few other things in the room, hooks attached to the ceilings and walls, a small table, and an uncomfortable looking high-backed wooden chair.
“Up on the spanking bench,” he said before she could take it all in.
He continued, “I want your torso on the top rail, your knees on the side rails, and I want your ass sticking out so I can fuck your hole hard.”
Getting into position took several attempts, and she wasn’t nearly as graceful as she would have liked. Once she was situated, she pressed her upper body against the padded rail. She turned her head to the right so she could see his wall of torture.
He adjusted the side rails so that her legs were unnaturally high. The position was awkward, leaving her private area more exposed. She watched him select a cane. He whipped it through the air a couple of times and smacked it lightly against his calf.
She clenched her butt cheeks in fear.
“Ass higher,” he said, turning back to her.
She tried again.
He crossed to her and laid a stripe across the tops of her thighs. She screamed, but she arched her back and thrust her rear out.
“Better,” he said. “Hold that position.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and willed the pain away. She breathed deeply, and she consciously uncurled her hands.
The pain had been exquisite, nothing at all like her previous experiences. She was sure he’d chosen it purposefully to prove she could trust him.
He replaced the cane—thank God—and grabbed four fabric cuffs.
“I’m going to secure you to the bench,” he said. “Tightly.”
“Yes, Sir.” She’d been attached to crosses and benches before but never like this. He pulled each arm as far as possible and attached her cuffs to small metal hooks built into the bench. Most of her doms just spread her as far as comfortable. This position made it difficult to take a deep breath.
He secured her knees to the rails and secured her ankles to the front of the bench so that she couldn’t pull back.
“Scared?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Louder.”
“Yes, Sir. I’m scared.”
“You should be.” He removed the collar and leash. “This will be a punishment beating. Tell me why you’re receiving it.”
“Sir, I interrupted your call. I walked when I should have crawled. I didn’t wait quietly.”
“You touched yourself without permission.”
“I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t know that was forbidden.”
“You most certainly did know. We talked about it after the demo at the club. Your cunt belongs to me. When you’re with me, you will touch yourself when I give you permission. Likely it will be because I want you to masturbate for me or my guests.” He slapped her ass hard.
She yelped. “Yes, Sir. I understand.”
“We can negotiate what happens when we’re apart. But you need permission to go against my will.”
God he turned her on. She loved how implacable he was. Despite her misgivings, fears, and insistence that she wasn’t a submissive, she was falling for him. The thought terrified her.
He turned back to the wall, and she watched him shamelessly. He selected several things, including a gag and placed them on the small tabletop.
He brought over a strap for her to look at.
“Do you know what this is?”
“A strop, Sir?” She frowned. It wasn’t made of leather as she expected. She’d never seen anything quite like this.
“It’s a strop, yes. But it’s made of rubber, rather than leather. Fair warning, subs either hate it or like it. There’s no in between. It’s directional. It’s more vicious than leather. You’re such a painslut, I’m inclined to believe you’ll like it.”
“Uhm, where are you going to use it?”
“On your pussy.”
She felt the blood drain from her face. The black rubber strop was about a quarter inch wide, fifteen inches long, thin, and threatening.
“I only intend to hit you with it after you’re properly warmed up. Using it first would immediately put an end the session. I intend to give you three strokes with it, no more. The first will likely shock you. The second will be intolerable. The third will crush you. It’s meant as punishment for you touching the cunt that belongs to me, especially since you were trying to manipulate me. It’s meant as discipline, as a reminder that you’re not allowed to masturbate without permission. Unless you use your safe word, I intend to enjoy every moment of punishing you with it,” he said. “Your choice.”
He was a bit of a bastard.
If he’d simply used it, she wouldn’t have objected. But he was intentionally building the anticipation and her fear. “I want to try it.”
“All three? Or just one?”
“Three. Please don’t stop, Sir.”
“Brave girl.”
He took out a large squirt bottle filled with lube. “I intend to punish you for misbehaving. And because you’ll like it. I am going to fuck your hot pussy and your tiny little ass.”
Truthfully, she was ready. Maybe not for the anal part, but she definitely wanted him. It was as if their earlier sex had merely been an appetizer. She wanted the entire meal.
“You’re nice and clean?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“No embarrassment,” he warned, “otherwise I’ll shove an enema nozzle up your ass and fill you until you beg for mercy, and I’ll watch while you expel it.”
Adding weight to his threat, he opened a cupboard and took out an old-fashioned hot water bottle. It would hold at least four or five times more liquid than the disposable one. She flinched. “Ah, no embarrassment, Sir,” she promised. “My ass is nice and clean. Shall I show you?”
“That was quick.”
“I am a fast learner, Sir.”
“Indeed.” He replaced the scary-looking bottle. “Blindfolds are not on your limits list?”
“No, Sir. I like them.” They allowed her to get more lost in a scene. Having no distractions, like his naked chest or tight buns or the whips he wanted to use, would enable her to surrender to the moment more completely. She found it also made her sense of hearing more acute, and it allowed her to feel the pain more keenly.
“Tune into my voice,” he told her as he secured a blindfold. “I’ll talk to you. I won’t leave you alone in this room. Talk to me, Alani, if you need to.”
He stroked his fingers down her spine. She splayed her fingers. “You’re so erotic, Sir. That’s a turn-on.”
He massaged her buttocks, and then he lightly slapped her half a dozen times. “Your ass gets so red. I may have to take a photograph of it.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You’d like that?”
“Yes,” she admitted. The idea appealed to the exhibitionist in her. Somehow the blindfold made it easier to be honest about her baser desires.
“I have a camera in the other room.”
“I’ll be all right if you hurry.” She regulated her breathing. Being left alone was a bit unnerving. She tried not to freak out.
“Breathe, Alani!” he called.
She smiled and relaxed, allowing the bench to take more of her weight.
“I’m proud of you,” he said a few seconds later.
She heard the snap of a shutter several times. He moved her hair, repositioned her, clicked a few more times, then there was silence.
“Beautiful,” he said. “They’re good shots. Sometime, we’ll set up a video camera.”
The idea of having video of him fucking her turned her on. “If I can watch you masturbate to it, Sir.”
“I’m going to keep you permanently bound and blindfolded,” he said.
He rubbed her buttocks and her thighs vigorously. She relaxed. He repeatedly smacked her rear, increasing the pressure, changing the location, hitting only a small area and then a larger one. She became lost in a maelstrom of sensation.
“You’re perfect,” he told her. “Absolutely perfect.”
Abstractly she knew he was preparing her for more than he’d ever given her, and she wanted to go wherever he led. “Yes, Sir. More. Thank you!”
“That’s my little painslut.”
Generally he made her count and express gratitude for each stroke, but she knew he was letting her surrender to the beating. She kept up a mantra of thanks, and she was grateful. This was an amazing beating.
He moved away from her, and she said, “Sir!”
“We’re not done yet,” he promised.
She felt his touch on her shoulder, and then he said, “Open your mouth.”
As she did, he pushed a latex ball gag into her mouth and secured the strap behind her head. He checked the fit, and said, “Show me a safe signal.”
She pointed her thumb down.
“No,” he said. “I might miss it. Here.”
He closed her hand around a thin whip.
“Drop it if you need to stop. Understand?”
She nodded.
She’d rarely been gagged. Despite the inability to really swallow, she didn’t hate it. It just added another dimension to the experience.
“Are you ready to continue?”
She nodded again.
He smacked her with one hand and played with her pussy with the other, pressing hard on her clit, sliding his fingers into the slick moistness.
She moved against the spanking bench as much as she could, enjoying the onslaught. “Yes, yes, yes,” she said, the words coming out a jumbled slur.
She felt his cock against her pussy. She hadn’t been aware of him taking off his jeans or putting on the condom. But suddenly he was in her, stretching her, filling her. But he didn’t stop the stinging spanks. She was on fire, trying to push back as he surged forward. But she was helpless, pinned, trapped.
“Don’t come yet,” he told her.
How could she not? This kind of exquisite pain was light-years beyond anything she’d experienced…too much and not enough all at the same time.
Suddenly, he pulled out.
She swore.
“I’ll take that as a thank-you,” he said.
Her dom knew, always knew, when she was on the edge. Her body ached from the unfulfilled desire.
She heard something wet. Lube? Then she felt him seeking entrance to her hole.
“Bear down,” he told her.
Not waiting for her compliance, he slid a finger inside her, straight in until he was seated all the way to the knuckle.
Tied as she was, she was powerless to prevent his manhandling.
He pulled out, then eased back in, but this time, he stretched her wider. He must have been using two fingers. She clenched against the invasion.
“Stop fighting,” he warned.
He put a hand in her hair and yanked hard. The pain made her refocus. “Take anything I want to give you.” He jammed three fingers in her and added, “And be grateful.”
She gasped. Being grateful for anal was asking too much. But she tried.
“Yeah,” he said, easing his grip and forcing his fingers into her tight channel again. “You’ve had a plug up there. This is no worse.”
The plug had been unyielding, but she’d known what to expect. This, with him flexing his fingers and spreading her wide, felt completely different.
Then he left her. She heard his footsteps and the sound of running water. She schooled herself to remain calm. A minute or so later, she felt his cockhead at her vaginal entrance.
She held her breath.
And he unerringly found her clit and began to tease it. He trailed light touches across her back, played with her pussy, and fully entered her ass.
She wriggled and struggled.
“Take it. Take me. I want to be in you. Do this for me, my little subbie.”
How could she not? She held tightly to the whip he’d placed in her hand, determined to do this for him.
He pulled out, then pounded back in.
Against the gag, she yelled out her assent.
He grabbed her hips with both hands, his fingers digging into her. “Yes,” he said, the word brutally clipped. “I’m going to come in your ass.”
She nodded. Tears filled her eyes and seeped out below the blindfold. This hurt, and it hurt beautifully.
“I don’t want you to orgasm yet,” he told her. “Hold off.”
She didn’t think it would be difficult. She doubted she could come while he had her up the rear.
But she underestimated her dom.
He moved one hand to play with her pussy, and the friction against the padding was too much. The pressure inside her made her want to come. “Please, please,” she begged, knowing he wouldn’t be able to understand a word.
“You’ll get to come soon. And it will be worth the wait.”
It already was.
She harnessed her thoughts, concentrating on pleasing Master Nathaniel rather than herself. She sucked in brief shallow breaths. She felt his cock thickening as his climax built. She was sweating and panting as she fought to hold off her response.
“Take all of me, sub.”
He kept her imprisoned.
He surged into her with an urgency she didn’t understand, as if he couldn’t get enough.
He withdrew completely, then filled her again and again with fast and hard strokes.
She held her body rigid. She was going to come, soon. The sensations were too much. She was overwhelmed.
He came with a guttural groan. “You amaze me,” he said.
He held her for at least a couple of minutes. Slowly she felt his cock go flaccid, and eventually she heard his breathing return to normal. He released her. She figured she’d have bruises, but it was worth it. She’d taken what he gave, and she’d pleased him.
Her body, though, ached from the punishment, the fucking, from the denial.
“I haven’t forgotten you,” he said.
He left her for a few moments. When he touched her again, he said, “Are you doing okay?”
She wanted to shout at him. Of course she wasn’t okay. She was trussed and tied, her ass gaping, her pussy throbbing. Her muscles were starting to cramp. And he’d gotten off. At least one of them was happy.