MasterStroke (23 page)

There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain. Maybe that’s what he’s trying to show me
.

It was a concept that was starting to interest her.
Damn my curiosity. It gets me every time.

Jack handled a flogger with strands of what looked like suede ending in flat, leaf-shaped protrusions.

“The floggers range from the softest, most tantalising – mere kisses – and those that will sting to the harshest that will cut flesh. This……” he waved the one in his hand. “…..is an entry-level flogger, S&M 101, good for teasing out a soft response.”

He brushed it across Sandrine’s breasts, intensifying it with a skilful flick of the wrist. She flinched, closing her eyes, expecting a flash of pain but there was little except a pleasant sensation, very mild and incredibly arousing, even when the strands hit her extremely sensitive nipples.

“That wasn’t too bad, was it? The anticipation was far worse. You associate these with pain but it’s your inexperience that makes it so bad. However, there are others here that are considerably more serious. The ends of the strands or tails that are leaf- or disc-shaped are softer than the plain, sharper ends. The longer the tail, the more you’ll feel it. And you’ll certainly feel those with braided ends. That’s an experience you won’t want to have, believe me. The thicker the tail, the more you’ll feel it. And what the flogger is constructed of counts for a lot as well.

“Lamb, deer and elk leather is at the softer end of the spectrum. Not much sting, even with greater effort. They’re good for sensitive areas including breasts and clits,” Jack explained patiently. Sandrine grimaced at this particular piece of information. She couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have her clit whipped and she didn’t want to find out. That would definitely be off-limits.

“Bull and goat are at the other extreme with an enduring bite. Latigo, a type of tanned leather used in saddlery, is the most severe of all. You’d feel that for a long time afterwards. There’d be tears before bedtime and most probably the next morning as well.”

He sorted through and eventually selected a few. Luckily, the meanest, nastiest examples weren’t included. On the back wall of the cabinet, above the drawers, were affixed longer whips. Indicating one, a particularly mean example that was about four feet in length and an inch thick, he said: “That’s a
sjambok
from South Africa although there are variations throughout the continent. They’re also called
imbuvu, kiboko
and
chicotte
. Used for very serious flogging.”

Sandrine was horrified. The rising revulsion contrasted with a maddening squirm of eroticism that refused to fade. She was fighting to maintain a distance, experience all this without becoming too involved but it was useless. The more she saw, the more she needed to know. She was even beginning to anticipate the feel of the floggers on her skin.

“Have you ever used it on anyone?”

“Strictly for display although it certainly makes a great conversation piece.” A rare spark of humour from Jack, matched by a knowing smirk. “But I think we should add one of these as well.”

He selected one of the shorter riding crops, no more than eighteen inches long. With a flick of his wrist, he brought the leather tongue down on his palm of his hand. The slap sounded like a gunshot. She winced without realising it.

“Don’t worry, darling, the last thing I want to do is mark your beautiful skin. We’ll use it sparingly. Just a taste at the beginning.”

Jack laid out the floggers and riding crop on the black satin sheets of the bed. He held out a pair of leather cuffs with chrome buckles. He twirled a finger in the air and she dutifully turned around to have her wrists tightly secured behind her back.

“B&D can be many things. An all-encompassing lifestyle, a means of delivering sexual satisfaction through discomfort and pain, or just a role-play, a way of spicing up a sex life. The extent depends on individual taste.”

Sandrine was not really that interested in philosophical discussion. In fact, it was beginning to verge on the tedious. She’d come to the Games Room to lay the ghost of Jack’s previous love to rest but that now seemed a mere excuse. If she was completely honest, she just needed to be fucked. The urge to feel his cock inside her was overwhelming. She wanted to be pounded senseless, to have the emptiness between her legs filled. Her libido was in overdrive and the nagging, driving need was getting more intense by the minute. It was a longing that never left her these days.

The thought of sex with Jack filled every waking moment. She went to bed aroused and woke up exactly the same way. Masturbation briefly dulled her hunger yet it never went away. No sooner had she been filled by him, experienced his enormous deeply satisfying erection, with the resultant orgasm, than she was ready to go again. She wanted to be joined to Jack constantly. It was an itch that could never be scratched, a desire that rarely differed in intensity. And she wanted to know how many different ways excitement could be channelled.

Sandrine had the distinct impression she was about to find out.

Chapter Twenty Nine

They were role-playing now yet there was the steely edginess of truth in his transformation from loving, sharing and concerned Jack to dominant master, harsh and potentially cruel. There was a danger that spiked her emotions into unknown areas. Jack, it seemed, may have the potential to become merciless and the fear elevated her to another level.

Would he hurt me? Will he enjoy this? What if he loses control? I’m tied up and helpless.

The turmoil was just about enough to make her come on the spot.

This is crazy. I’m scared, I have no idea what’s going to happen to me, Jack’s not even touching me and I’m ready to come. Is this what obsession is all about?

Her shoulders pulled back by the cuffing of her wrists, her breasts jutted forward. Jack looked her over, ran his hand lightly across the pale skin of her cleavage, skirting her nipples. He kissed her on the forehead, the lips and then closed his mouth over a hard nipple and sucked, not too hard it hurt but not too softly that the juices between the legs stopped flowing. She moaned and leaned into him.

She felt fingers slipping between her legs, opening the lips and smearing the warm slippery liquid from the opening across her clit. The circular motion made her hips rock then a finger moved inside her. It was so much thicker than Sandrine’s own and her muscles clenched hungrily around it.

“Urghhh,” was all she could say. Convulsions swept through her and her hips bucked. She tried to squat, attempting to impale her weight on that glorious finger but Jack teased it away. His mouth was still locked around her nipple. He switched sides and the swooning intensity ramped up even further.

As quickly as he had invaded her body, pushing her ever closer to the edge, he stopped, leaving her stranded. Standing back, she watched as he dipped the finger into his mouth, like a proud chef relishing a particularly delicious sauce.

“Oh that’s so very good, Sandrine. The hotter you get, the tastier you are.”

He picked up the flogger with the leaf-shaped ends.

“Stand straight, please. Shoulders back, head high. Open your legs wide.”

It was a matter of shuffling into place, an action she found awkward and ignoble. It was a slightly unnatural position and difficult to maintain.

Jack brushed the strands of the flogger across her breasts, trailing them down her stomach and along her thighs. It tickled but was also oddly comforting. Her skin was acutely sensitive and it felt like it was being caressed. It was unlike anything she could remember feeling before. She closed her eyes, revelling in the sensations.

Then a slash as the strands were whipped against her body. Their softness carried little sting, just a deeper stimulation, not unpleasant as she would have expected. She could get used to it.

“How does that feel?”

“Fine,” she said.

“Let’s try this. Stay still, please.”

Jack positioned himself a little away from her, in front and to one side. She had a superb view of his body and especially his chest, which she thought to be one of his best features. While she had never previously shown an interest in hairy men, there was something about his thick thatch of dark curly chest hair that she found appealing. Matched with his strong arms and broad, well-muscled shoulders, it was an irresistible package. She was having trouble breathing now, the sight of Jack’s body and the memory of what it could do to her obscured all else.

The whip flicked with a practised twist of his wrist, slapping across her breasts. The nipples bore the full force of the strike yet there was no pain at all. It was as if they had been lightly swatted and the feeling was not unpleasant.

“And that? OK?”

“Yes, it’s good. I feel silly having worried so much about so little.”

“Don’t make up your mind just yet. We’ve only just started.”

Jack threw the flogger on the bed and picked up the riding crop.

“You were probably expecting something more like this.”

He slapped the leather tongue of the crop quickly against his leather pants and the sharp sound made her jump.
Still, it couldn’t be too bad, could it?
Walking behind her, he leaned in to kiss her neck softly. She arched her head, allowing him a more unobstructed angle. He fondled her buttocks, running his free hand deep between her legs while stroking the skin with the crop.

Sandrine was panting, trying to maintain control, but the effort was torture.

“You’re so wet,” he whispered into her ear, his hot breath creating yet another wave of pleasure. He moved to the front of her and lightly kissed the soft pale skin on the top of her jutting breasts, gradually, incrementally, teasingly, working down to a hard nipple. He slipped it into his mouth and sucked at the same time he slapped the crop hard against the delicate damp skin just below her pubis.

The shock was immediate. The intensity of having her breast sucked coupled with the unexpected sharp pain on her clit melded the twin sensations into one confusing explosion, her brain unable to process whether it was the most delicious carnally explicit feeling or an affronting second of pure torture.

Pleasure or pain? The scream was unbidden, trailing off to a dull moan. It felt like her clit was on fire. The immediate reaction was to cradle it, shield it from further assault, rub it softly to make it feel better but her hands were pinned behind her back. She squirmed and begged to be released.

The crop cracked sharply on her buttocks.

“Stay still, my darling.”

“Bastard! Let me go! How dare you!” she exploded, the anger boiling off her with a viciousness that shocked her.

Jack had a hand on her neck, pinning her to the spot. She was unable to move. His mouth closed over the other nipple and sucked steadily while his finger rubbed gently on her clit.

“It’s so much bigger now, if that’s possible. The blood is rushing into the tissue, making it far more sensitive. Does it feel different?”

Once the initial panic had passed, she had to admit that there was something unusual happening, a heightened sensitivity. It felt confusing but highly charged nonetheless. It was like her body was suddenly plugged into an electrical outlet, overloading all thought and leaving only physical sensation. Bewildering but erotic in ways she didn’t comprehend.

“Yes,” she gasped hoarsely.

“Do you want more?”

“Yes. More.”

“We mustn’t forget our manners. In this room, your body is mine to do what I want with. But only if I have your permission. You must tell me what you want.”

“Yes.
Please.
More.”

This is crazy
, her brain screamed.
What is happening to me? I don’t understand.

“What is it you want, my darling?”

The difficult thing, almost impossible, was to put her need into words. She wasn’t sure that if she opened her mouth, it wouldn’t come out in a garbled jumble.

“Slap. Me. Again. Please. On. The Clit. Please. Do. It. Again.” Word by word, focusing her mind so very carefully, step by step.

“Good manners are a gift that should always be rewarded,” Jack said lightly, teasingly.

He gripped the back of her head, fingers intertwined in her hair and kissed her lightly on the lips. Her tongue snaked out, trying to dart into his mouth, and as he accepted it, toying, languidly caressing her mouth, the crop leapt in his hand, slapping her fast, time after time, beating out an unrelenting rhythm on the solid intensity of her clit.

“Urrgghhh,” was all she could say, moaning loud and long into his mouth. The explosions in her groin contracted the muscles savagely, the shift inside her spinning her wildly out of control. She couldn’t move, she was pinned in place yet she felt like she had been catapulted into another world, far beyond anything she had ever experienced before. It didn’t have the beginning, middle and end of an orgasm. It was something else entirely. She couldn’t even begin to describe it. She only knew she didn’t want it to end, even if her head exploded in the process.

The pounding ceased but Sandrine barely noticed. The sensations continued, wracking her nerves, shaking her to the core. Her body glowed with a fine sheen of perspiration and she couldn’t catch her breath.
I’m on fire. Don’t put me out. I want more
.

“More. Please,” she panted in a voice she barely recognised.

Jack’s laugh seemed unnecessarily cruel yet it held equal parts affection and amusement.

“You like this, don’t you?”

“I do. It’s strange, pain but no pain, so fucking brilliant.” It was unlike her to swear. She never swore. But there was no other way to describe it.

“I think you’ll walk out of this room knowing a bit more about yourself. We’ll add a few more things to the list of what you like.” Jack unbuckled the wrist cuffs, freeing her hands. “Come with me. Gently does it. You’re a bit unsteady on your feet.”

That’s an understatement
, she thought ruefully. Sandrine could barely take the few steps to the bed where Jack laid her down. She lazily looked up at him, wanting to be held but knowing tenderness was not yet part of the plan. Disappointingly, but only for an instant, he spread her thighs wide and moved so his head was directly above her soaking wet labia.