Authors: Sindra van Yssel
He
gave her ankles the same treatment, but this time the chain stretched on the
floor and made a different sound when she moved.
He
chuckled when she pulled on the chains. “Trust me. You’re not going anywhere.”
“I
know that, Sir,” she replied, somehow anxious to have him know she wasn’t
stupid. She was acting as if she was trying to break free because she liked
feeling the solidness of the restraints and hearing the clanking sound.
The
gentle touch of his hand on her shoulder almost made her jump, even though it
was warm. He had her on edge. It was ridiculous. She was in a perfectly safe club,
and if he stepped out of line, she could scream, and people would come running.
He was pushing buttons she didn’t even know she had.
She
felt his other hand on her bottom. He moved it in circles, gently caressing the
soft bare flesh. She felt like she had goose bumps there. She thought of
herself as experienced, but she didn’t feel very experienced at all at the
moment. She’d been in clubs like this a dozen times and played every time, but
it had always been the same and under control somehow.
Under
her
control.
He
swatted her suddenly, without warning, and it stung. She knew he hadn’t hit her
with his full strength, but something about the way he moved his hand created a
sharper and less
thuddy
sensation than she was used
to. She flattened herself against the cross and took a deep breath as the
sensation faded.
“Is
that what you want, Katrina?”
“If you wish, Sir.”
It was one of her favorite phrases.
Enough of a yes to get the
dom
to go on without revealing how much she wanted it. She loved sting. The thud of
a flogger made her remember the little shoves Angus used to give her, and that
wasn’t good. He never hit her, but he was often rough and intimidating. But
those sharp little pains one got from a thin-tailed cat or crop, she loved.
Spankings were usually somewhere in between.
“I
asked if you wanted it,” Brett said, his voice revealing no give at all.
Damn
.
“Yes,
Sir.”
He
swatted her again.
And again.
His hand only lingered
on her ass for a moment, and then he pulled it away. Saying yes had gotten her
what she wanted. She pushed her ass back for more.
His
hand left her shoulder, and she missed it. But it was only gone for a second
before it came to rest on her belly. She had been pressed too tightly against
the cross before, but now there was space for him.
“I
think”—
swat
—“that since I’m giving
you what you want”—
swat
—“that I
should get a reward, don’t you?” he asked. Each swat sent a jolt from her ass
to her pussy and made her clit tingle.
“Yes, Sir.”
He
slipped his hand down inside her panties. Which, she realized, were
soaked.
Her clit was tiny, even when swollen like it was
now,
and never quite seemed to poke out. Guys always needed
help finding it, but that was okay for now. Any touch would feel good.
Whether
by skill or luck, he rested his finger right on the small bundle of nerves and
rubbed in little circles. It was all going too fast. He was supposed to spank
her until her ass was red and
then
make her come. Maybe the long time she’d spent without sex had her primed, but
this was ridiculous.
Then
he surprised her by giving her another swat. This one pushed her into his hand,
and the mix of pain and pleasure confused her. She didn’t figure it out until
he landed another. They were hard enough they jolted his finger off her clit,
but each time he returned to that exact spot.
She
felt like there were sparks shooting in her pussy as she climaxed. Shivers went
up and down her legs, and they reacted, jerking the chains and making them
clank on the floor. Her ass clenched, and her body tensed, and she felt for a
moment like she was going to pull the whole St. Andrew’s cross over.
She
tried to catch her breath. “Thank you, Sir.” She hardly ever remembered to say
Sir after she came. But then, it usually took forever, because of all the
fumbling around most guys did. That’s why she liked the flagellation part to
take a while; it got her warmed up to the point that it didn’t take too much
direct stimulation to set her off. In any case, she’d gotten what she came for,
and she relaxed in the chains. He’d let her go, and she’d thank him again.
Maybe she’d even give him her cell number.
“We’re
not done, Katrina.”
“We’re
not?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
Maybe he wanted to come too? But that was always problematic in a place like
this. Women could come without a mess, although she felt pretty messy at the
moment. Guys, on the other hand, well, a club didn’t want a biohazard on the
floor, and while she’d seen subs made to come in their pants,
doms
would usually go without. And blowjobs and intercourse
were off-limits because the cops would have a cow. Before that had been part of
the attraction to getting off at BDSM clubs, that she didn’t have to deal with
actual sex. Now she wasn’t so sure.
“But.”
“I’ve
given you what you wanted. Now you have to give me what I want.”
“What’s
that?”
“The same thing.”
An orgasm?
Or did he mean something else? He
swatted her again. She shrieked. She hadn’t been expecting it, and she was more
sensitive after coming, not less.
“Good
girl,” he whispered to her. Now she understood what he meant. This time the
spanking would be for his pleasure.
She
didn’t want it. Not anymore, not now that she was satisfied. But she couldn’t
say it wasn’t fair. That had always been the deal she offered
doms
: she’d take a spanking or a flogging for them in
exchange for her climax. That she’d been pretending not to like the first part
didn’t change the fact that she’d agreed to the trade. And now she was going to
get a spanking she didn’t want.
His
finger slipped off her clit, deeper into her panties. He swatted her again. It
was the same as the way he’d spanked her when she’d come, but now it just hurt.
He
slid two fingers into her pussy. She gasped as they filled her. Then he spanked
her again, but differently, almost more of a push. The kind of spanking she
didn’t like because it didn’t sting enough, except it pushed her onto his
fingers and drove them deeper. That felt very good indeed. She started to
imagine what it would feel like to have them go all the way in, as deep as a
big cock could go. She wondered how big his cock was. Was it hard now? She
twisted her head, trying to see if she could see it tenting his jeans, but her
shoulder was in the way.
As
if he knew what she was after, he bumped her hip, leaving no doubt that he was
hard at all. It still didn’t answer the question of how big he was, or how
deeply he could take her. But she could tell that he wasn’t small.
My God, I’m losing my
mind
.
But she couldn’t stop from thinking about it. Even the swats he kept giving her
and the fingers sliding across the sensitive nerves in her pussy didn’t
distract her. If she took him into her mouth, would she be able to take him all
in? No, that was ridiculous. Maybe with a fist around his shaft; then she could
take what was left, without choking. Would he hold her head, taking what he
wanted, until he came down her throat? She ought to be imagining a condom
there, she decided, and undecided just as quickly. It was her imagination.
Imagination was always safe.
It
didn’t feel safe at all. Not with this man right here. Maybe it would have in
the privacy of her own bedroom, but not with his fingers inside her—was that
three now?—and his hand alternately caressing and slapping her bare ass. Not
with the pressure she felt inside her core, building with every touch. She
never came twice. Well, not since the first time she’d discovered a vibrator,
when she’d gone overboard and had been sore for days after. She’d always
stopped at one orgasm since. And with guys it had never even been an option
because they usually had so much trouble finding the right place to touch the
first time.
She
clenched everything, trying not to come. She wasn’t sure why. She knew it would
feel good to have a release, but somehow this stranger shouldn’t be the first
person to give her two in a row. It was silly to think it would give him power
over her, but she couldn’t help thinking it anyway.
He
bent down to kiss her neck, below her ear, and she almost lost control. “You’re
going to,” he whispered.
“No.”
“Yes.”
He nibbled her ear. She bit her lip, hard, hoping the pain would save her.
“Yes,” he said again and brushed his thumb across her clit. She tasted blood
from her lip. She’d bitten it harder than she thought. She had to focus on
that, not the way her body tingled all over.
“Yes,”
he whispered, curled his fingers inside her just right, and spanked her hard.
She
screamed and came. She gushed over his fingers. Her arms and legs shook the
chains. Even the thought that people would notice and start looking at her
couldn’t help her get control. Her body had a mind of its own, and she couldn’t
see anything anyway, at first because of a white light filling her vision and
then because even her eyes clenched shut at the force of the pleasure sweeping through
her body. Her toes curled. Her fingernails bit into her hand.
“Oh
fuck,” she said.
He
hugged her to the cross. His fingers were wet on her breasts. His other hand
was wrapped around her waist. His hard cock nestled against the crease of her
ass. Even through the jeans and without seeing, she could tell it wasn’t small.
She pushed back against it. She wanted to feel it, outside his pants
preferably, but inside would do. It wasn’t as if she had the energy to unzip
anything, or the hands free for that matter. Hell, she barely felt like holding
herself up. If he backed away, she suspected she would sag in the chains.
“Sir.”
“Yes?”
“Just
Sir, Sir.” It felt silly, and she couldn’t explain. She’d called a lot of
doms
that. Some of them were skilled. Half of them seemed
like nice people, worthy of respect. This was the first time, however, that she
didn’t feel like she was playacting to use the word. This man was a Sir,
capital S.
He
unbuckled her from the cross but didn’t let her go. She fell into his arms, feeling
small and helpless. “I can lift a big
ol
’ Marshall,”
she murmured, more to herself than him. Not that he’d care whether she could
lift a large guitar amp or not. Good God, being this satisfied was like being
drunk.
“Whoever
Marshall is, he’s not here, and I am,” Brett said back, as he sat down and held
her. Kat closed her eyes, so she couldn’t see his eyes. He was nice to look at,
but she didn’t want to see him looking back when she felt so vulnerable. It was
one thing to feel that way when she was getting more and more turned on, but
when she was satisfied, it didn’t seem right at all.
He
stroked her hair with surprisingly gentle hands. She didn’t open her eyes until
she heard clanking in the direction of the cross. She looked up to see another
big tall man taking the chains off the top of it. The redhead who’d taken her
money when she came in was removing the ones that had held her ankles.
“Thanks,”
Brett said to them, his attention off Kat for only a moment. He stroked her
hair again. “Let’s go to the side, so someone else can use the cross, and I’ll
hold you while you come back to earth.”
She
wiggled out of his grasp and then scrambled to her feet. “I’m fine,” she lied.
Brett
frowned, and her stomach did an unhappy flip at the idea she was disappointing
him. “It’s not a sign of weakness, Katrina, to enjoy a cuddle.”
“Nah,
I’m good.” Cuddles were for people you knew. This man was a stranger, albeit a
stranger who had given her two orgasms. The fact that she’d been extremely
comfortable cuddling a moment before was beside the point. She desperately
needed to clear her head. “Maybe I should take a walk around.”
She
expected him to argue with her, but even though he shook his head he said,
“Maybe you should. I’ll be around if you need me.”
“THAT,”
SAID BRETT’S friend Evan after Katrina had gotten some distance, “is one
strange chick.”
Brett
couldn’t argue, although he felt an urge to stick up for Katrina. He was always
protective of his subs. He didn’t know what was going on in her head, but he
imagined it made sense to her. He should have asked her more questions and
found out about her previous experiences, but after the earlier runaround, he
hadn’t trusted he’d get accurate answers.
She
headed for the one place he couldn’t follow, which was the ladies’ room. He’d
intended to give her space anyway. He was pretty sure she was coming back
because she’d left her pants. He folded them up and put them on top of his bag.