I worked the next one, my fingers even less steady. The tightening shocks in my groin warned that I would come at any second. I tried to calm myself. I didn’t want to come until he was inside me, but my self-control could only do so much, especially when I wasn’t entirely in control of myself, anyway. I moved on to the third button, a loud moan taking me by surprise.
“Are you going to come?” he asked, and all I could do was moan again.
He cut the power to the vibe. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
It was what I had wanted, though, whether he knew that or not. I suspected he did; though he claimed to be out of practice, he was doing a very good job hitting every item on my fantasy list tonight.
I managed to get five buttons undone before he turned the vibe on, again, and I lost all reason. I ripped the remaining two straight down.
He slapped me hard across the face, and I practically came, right then.
“Fuck me,” I pleaded, the vibrations against my clit driving me out of my mind. My tolerance to orgasm denial had dwindled to zero, apparently. I was willing to talk out of turn, to give a command to my Sir.
“Fuck you?” He cut the power to the vibe, and I groaned in protest and stamped my foot. “I do not like bratty subs. Bend over the recamier. Now!”
I had no one to blame—or thank—but myself. I’d skirted a line, though; there was one thing that Neil was very serious about in our play, and that was respect. If I didn’t safe word, if we were still playing the game, and I mouthed off to him, there were always consequences.
And I’d told him to leave marks.
I scrambled to do as he said, leaning over the arm of the bench as he scooped up the flogger from the bed. He jerked his arms angrily from the shirt and tossed it aside, standing bare chested beside me. He didn’t warn me, he didn’t threaten. He just snapped the leather straps of the flogger against my ass so hard that I deeply, deeply regretted sassing him.
But I wouldn’t safe word, because I knew I could take this punishment. It wasn’t sexy. It wasn’t meant to turn me on. It was meant to hurt me, and while I loved being hurt, a punishment flogging was discipline.
The flogger cut through the air with a swish. It struck down on my backside, and I jumped, howling.
“Quiet!” he barked. “If you want to scream, you’ll scream one word. You’ll scream that you’re sorry.”
He hit me with it again, and I shouted, “I’m sorry, Sir!”
After the next one, he said, “You have six more to go. And you’ll feel every goddamned one of them.”
The next one came harder. And the next one. For all he warned me about being out of practice or control, he was ruthlessly in his element, now. This was my Sir. This man who could visit agonizing pain upon me, and tenderness so sweet it could almost be cruel. I lost count of the strokes of the flogger, but with each blow, I came home to the subspace I’d been away from for so long.
“Get up!” he barked, throwing the flogger aside. “Get over to the bed and spread your legs for me. I’m going
to use your cunt.”
My ass burned. I wouldn’t be able to sit without massive amounts of ibuprofen and pain relieving gel for the next few days. It was so worth it, as long as my punishment was only the flogging and not something worse. He was still going to fuck me.
I lay on my back on the bed, and Neil caught my legs. He jerked me to the edge of the mattress and hit the button to turn on the vibrator. The flogging had backed some of the stimulation down, but I still gasped. I thought he would just drive into me, but instead, he stalked to the cabinet and pulled out a long length of rope.
“Get your hands over your head,” he ordered.
I did as he told me, and he looped the rope around my wrists, binding them together. If I was ever stranded in the jungle and hand to build a shelter or a snare or something, I wanted him with me. He was quick as hell with rope.
“Is anything rubbing?” he asked, as he slipped his pinky between my skin and the rope. It was soft to the touch, but soft rope could be deceiving. I’d learned that the hard way in a shrimp tie that had left scorching stripes down my ribs. Neil was always careful with me, but after that mishap, he was extra careful.
“No, Sir.” I wiggled my wrists a little just to make sure. The vibrations sped me toward climax, and I gritted my teeth. Don’t come without permission, don’t come without permission…
“Not too tight?”
“No, Sir.”
He made a grumbling noise of approval. The tail of the rope was long enough to tie to one of the ornate loops worked into the decorative scroll accents on the headboard. He pulled the rope through and cinched it with a knot a boy scout would be proud of.
My arms over my head, connected to a single tether, left me really, really vulnerable. Sir went to the end of the bed and pulled me down farther, until my ass rested just slightly off the edge. My arms stretched deliciously; not too far, not dangerously, but enough that I could feel helpless and at his mercy. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers, and then, he was on me, driving into me in one brutal thrust.
He’d given my cunt almost no attention and, certainly, no penetration. While I was desperately aroused, and the vibe was getting me even more so the whole time, I wasn’t exactly ready for something his size. I shouted in surprise as much as discomfort, but he didn’t pay me any mind. He’d said he would use my cunt, and he did, pounding into me with force I couldn’t anticipate; two strokes might be shallow, the next would be deep and punishing. Then another, and another, then gentler ones, then violent ones. He gripped my ankles and hauled them up, bending me back. The position, combined with the plug in my ass, made my cunt impossibly tighter, and all the while, the vibe buzzed away on me.