This one wasn’t quite as difficult. She felt her body relax, well, as much as she could relax while chained to a post. Oh, God. She couldn’t do this!
“Again.”
Breathe. This is Marc. He won’t hurt you
.
“Good girl.” She looked up at him and he smiled. Her body melted and she felt the chain above her begin to support her weight. “That’s right, pet. Relax into the chains. Don’t fight them. They’re there to help you keep your focus.”
Focus? All she could focus on were the chains. How could she…?
Marc stood in front of her and reached up, letting his fingers trail down the undersides of her arms. The sensitive flesh puckered in the wake of the feather-light touch. Her nipples puckered as well, even though he hadn’t touched them, and her pussy clenched as if around his finger…or penis.
The strain on her arms wasn’t painful as it had been with…. No. She wouldn’t think of him. She drew a deep breath, relaxing further.
“Very good, pet. You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you.”
She felt her insides turn molten and smiled. His fingertips brushed over her shoulders and with just the tip of his index fingers, he trailed across her upper chest until they met in the cleft between her breasts. They skimmed to beneath her full breasts and bumped along the links of the chain holding her to the post. He slipped his fingers between the chain and her skin, as if making sure it wasn’t pinching or pulled too tightly. With the weight on her arms, she barely felt this chain until he drew attention to it.
“Now, pet, why are you restrained for me tonight?”
Her stomach muscles tensed. “To be punished, Sir,” she whispered.
“Tell me why you want me to punish you.”
Want him to? But she didn’t want him to. Did she?
“Because I was bad.”
“What bad thing did you do?”
She felt a burning behind her eyelids and her throat closed up. She cleared it and whispered, “I didn’t address you with the respect I owe my Dom.” Her clit throbbed at the words “my Dom.” The thought that he was only her short-term Dom caused tears to well in her eyes.
* * *
Tears? Marc felt his gut clench that Angelina seemed moved to tears for having displeased him. Surely those tears weren’t part of an act. When a teardrop fell from her right eye, he bent down to kiss it away from her cheek, careful not to put pressure on her bruise. Her remorse seemed genuine. Soon he would have to punish her.
His chest grew tight. He felt like a heel. How could he exact punishment from her when she’d already shown him she was sorry? Would he ever grow into a Dom who could intentionally inflict pain, not for pleasure but for punitive reasons?
When he’d come into the great room and found her holding the chain with an expression of reverent awe, he’d immediately forgotten about the punishment, wanting only to see her chained to the post. That she’d let him get this far with her so fast tonight was a precious gift.
Her beautiful submission.
“Sir?”
She drew his focus back to the present. “Yes, pet?”
“I’m ready for my punishment. Whenever you’re ready, Sir.”
Taking a step back, Marc breathed deeply himself and walked to the wall of implements. He hadn’t planned to use this particular one tonight, because of her prior experience, but he’d set up the scene as differently as possible from her experience a month ago. Still, she needed to see that the same implement can be used for abuse, pain, or pleasure. She’d already experienced it as an abusive tool. Tonight he would show her its other uses.
He lifted one off the hook that had foot-long leather strips. He turned around and swooshed it through the air, watching as Angelina’s entire body tensed. He continued to flick the strips in a circular motion as he came to stand in front of her. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly, her gaze riveted to the flogger in his hand.
“Breathe, pet.”
She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, then met his gaze. “Please, Sir. Not the flogger.”
“I did not give you a choice this time,
cara
. You are to trust your Dom to know just what his pet needs.”
“But I can’t…not that one.” She was nearly hyperventilating.
“Deep breath. Now, Angelina.”
“I can’t.” She gasped for air.
“Do not disobey me. Breathe.”
With reluctance, she drew in a breath and looked at him again with pleading eyes. To her credit, she didn’t use her safe word. But he needed to make sure she remembered she could use it, if she needed to.
“What is your safe word?”
“Red, Sir.”
“Use it if you need it.” Without giving her time to use it in her panicked state, he began flicking just the tips of the leather strips against her nipples. They grew even more engorged and sensitive, as if reaching out to the leather for more. Back and forth, he tortured her tits.
When she closed her eyes and dropped her head back, he knew she would surrender to the flogger, at least for pleasure. “That’s right, pet. The flogger can hurt so good. Let it bite your tender skin as you think about how you will please your Dom in the future.”
He stepped to her side and let the strips flick against the tender undersides of her arms. She hissed in a breath, causing his groin to tighten. He grew bolder and increased both the speed and intensity of the flicks as he moved down one side toward her abdomen. He watched her muscles clench in anticipation as he stood in front of her, never letting the bite of the flogger stop for a moment. He didn’t expect to hear the giggle that escaped her lips when he slapped the tips against her abs. Damned ticklish woman. He fought to suppress a grin and flicked the flogger with more force.
Her gasp told him she was no longer being tickled by the flogger. He flicked the strands against her mons, enjoying watching the skin turn red under her close-cropped pussy hairs. He would order her to shave bare for him before their next session.
Her breasts bounced as she felt the lick of the leather. He wished he were licking her nipples, but still had a punishment to deliver. He hoped by showing her the flogger also could provide her with pleasure, she wouldn’t always associate it with pain. Soon, he knew, he’d have to deliver that punishment.
But not in this position.
Needing to get beyond the punishment, he let the flogger drop to the floor and waited for Angelina to open her eyes. She did so after a moment, groaning her displeasure in having the flogging stop, her pupils large, eyes glazed. She smiled.
“Now for your punishment, pet.”
Her smile faded.
Chapter Nineteen
Angelina furrowed her brow and quirked her head. “I thought that was the punishment…Sir.”
Good catch!
She’d almost forgotten his title.
Her skin tingled everywhere the flogger had struck, but the aroused nerve endings left her feeling so excited. Still, there had been pain, at first anyway, so she really thought he’d already begun the punishment.
“No, my pet. I prefer to see your ass grow red when I punish you.”
Another spanking? How could he do that in this position?
Then he came toward her and rubbed her breasts, her sides, all the places the flogger had touch. “Oh, my God.” As if hit by a stun gun, she felt her body hang loosely from the chains above her. All of her muscles gave way as his touch on her hypersensitive skin sent her mind into near orgasm--euphoria. She closed her eyes and moaned.
Her mind was too far gone to give a coherent response. She nodded, eyes still closed, as she relished the intense sensations. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he reached up to unfasten the chain that held her arms.
“That, my pet, is the good kind of subspace. Feels incredible, doesn’t it?”
She didn’t want to leave that space and groaned when Marc spoke again.
“Your shoulders are going to be tense and sore.” He slowly lowered her arms, and her shoulder sockets screamed at the change of positions.
“Oh, God!” The painful burning in her joints was awful, bringing her back to her body. He lowered her still-bound hands to rest just below her abdomen and reached up to gently massage her shoulders, the pain compounded by the bruises Allen had left. But he was careful not to apply to much pressure there.
Her gaze became riveted to the hair on his chest. She wanted to move the lapels of the vest away so she could enjoy the sight of his pectorals again. She realized with a start that her pain had receded. He released the chain attached to the leather belt she wore, and the one that had restrained her torso, just below her breasts. Expecting him to then kneel down and remove the bar spreading her legs open, she was surprised when he left it there and bent down to press her abdomen against his shoulder. He lifted her like a sack of flour.
“Wait! Put me down!”
A hard smack against her butt told her what he thought of her giving him orders. He carried her across the room, one hand on her right thigh, the other holding her stinging butt in place. She had a feeling her butt would soon be stinging much worse.
He reached his destination and slid her down until her feet were standing on the ground, her legs open to him at a particularly dangerous position. “Wait here.” He turned and walked back to the area near the center post and bent down to pick up the flogger. Everything inside her screamed, “Nooooo!” But she refused to give voice to her panic. He’d shown her that the flogger was nothing to fear.
Deep breaths, pet
. Oh, great. Now he had her calling herself that name.
“You earned ten lashes with the flogger for being insolent and rude to your Dom. Before we begin, do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“No, Sir. I just want to get it over with.”
He smiled. “Show the flogger that you welcome its kiss against your flesh again. Kiss it.”
He held it out to her and she looked up at him in confusion. Kiss the implement that would deliver her punishment? Was he joking? From his somber expression, apparently not. She bent over and placed a kiss on the place where the handle and strips of leather were joined.
“Turn around.” With his help, he turned her around and she saw a black leather loveseat in front of her. “Use your hands to catch yourself and bend over the armrest.” Again, he helped her so that she wouldn’t put too much of a strain on her shoulders. Why was he giving orders, then making them less difficult by bailing her out? He confused her.
She bent her arms at the elbows and rested her forehead on her wrists. Her butt and pussy were high in the air, exposed and vulnerable. Marc walked back over to the wall of implements, then returned, letting the soft leather strips of the flogger dance lightly over her ass cheeks.
“This isn’t part of the punishment, but only to bring the blood to the surface.” Blood? She cringed as he began to flick the flogger against her buttocks the same way he had done on the center post a few minutes ago. Soon, her bottom was burning and tingling. He stopped and she felt his hand rubbing over the area where the flogger had just been hitting her.
“Oh, yes!” The sense of euphoria returned, although not as intense, and she melted against the armrest, unable to control her body’s muscles any longer.
“You will count and ask for your next blow. Other than your safe word, no other words will be allowed.”
Marc stood to the side where she could see the black leather pants encasing his raging hard-on. To say he was excited by the scene would be an understatement. Angelina wondered if he would come inside her tonight. She clenched her vaginal muscles in anticipation.
Whack!
“Oh!” Marc’s flogger landed across her butt cheeks.
“What did you say,
cara
?”
Say? She didn’t say anything, did she? Oh! She was supposed to, though! Think!
“Answer me, pet.”
Oh, yes! “One. Thank you, Sir!”
“You weren’t listening, pet. I told you to count and ask for your next blow. Let’s start again. The first one won’t count.”
Well, it sure counted to her! But she didn’t argue.
Whack!
Her butt was already stinging and it was only the second one. Well, technically the first. This was much more intense than his hand on her butt had been during last night’s spanking.
“One. Please may I have another, Sir?”
“Good girl. Yes, you may.”
Whack!
“Two, Sir. May I have another?”
The flogger hurt like hell. And there were eight more to come? Oh, God. She’d never make it.
Marc’s cool hand stroked her burning skin.
Yes, please touch me
. His finger slid between the folds of her pussy to rub against the sides of her clit hood. Her face heated as her bottom bucked up toward his finger. Had he changed his mind about ten? Was he finished? Just when she thought perhaps the punishment might end early, Marc removed his hand from her pussy once more. She steeled herself for the next blow to fall.
Whack!
“Ow!” Harder this time, he took her by surprise. Tears stung her eyes. “Three, sir. May I have another?
Whack!
Oh, God. Why did he keep striking the same place over and over? “Four. May I have another?”
“How do you address me?”
“Sir!” Oh, please don’t start over. Tears spilled from her eyes at the very thought he might. How could she keep her mind on anything like titles when she was in such pain?
Whack!
Angelina’s butt cheeks flamed, then she felt cool air blowing against her skin, quenching some of the fire. What number was she on?
“Five? May I have another? Sir!”
“Yes, pet. Right on all counts.”
Whack!
“Six!” She sobbed the word. “Please, sir.” She gasped for air. “May I have another?”
She could no longer see him standing beside her. Marc’s fingers spread her folds and his tongue trailed a path from her pussy to her clit. She strained upward to press against his mouth, but could barely move. She groaned in frustration. His tongue flicked her clit until it throbbed, sending delicious waves of warmth through her lower body.
“Perfect.”
Angelina smiled, happy to have pleased him. She enjoyed her arousal, as well. It took some of the sting out of the punishment. But without his tongue against her, Angelina felt cold air against her wet folds. She waited, but nothing happened. What was Marc doing? When would he continue? And where had she left off in her count? She braced herself, no idea where the next blow would land.