MasterStroke (24 page)

“Such a pretty pussy. So well-behaved. It needs a kiss.”

His tongue darted across the soft flesh, the lips made puffy by the soft battering, the clit peeking out, hard and straining for attention. The touch carried an electric shock, arching her back. He was gentle although it was not gentle she wanted or needed.

“Fill me up, Jack. Please. I need you inside me.”

“Not yet, darling. We’ve a way to go and much to do. We’re just having a little break.”

She almost cried when he said that. Her emotions were raw, bobbing close to the surface.
What is happening to me?

He kissed her thighs, damp with passion, then the sensitive skin around her hips, then closer, closer, to the space between her legs where she longed to be indulged. It became increasingly obvious he had no intention of facilitating her release. It was cruel and he was getting enormous enjoyment from her discomfort.

This is what addiction feels like
, she thought miserably.
To want something so very much, I’d be willing to do anything for it.

“Jack, whatever you wish to do to my body, please do it. Only let me come first. I’ll go mad if I don’t,” she pleaded.

In answer, he gently took her hand and guided it to the front of his pants. Her fingers closed over the enormous bulge, rubbing it, stroking it, trying to claw open the leather to release it. Finding no disapproval, she rapidly pulled open the button-fly front and dug her hand inside.

Jack’s cock was a solid heavy weight, thick and heavenly. As she manoeuvred it free, she slid her crotch closer, working the head against her sopping lips. It was agonisingly close and hope filled her. Just a fraction, a little bit more and it would be inside her. She rubbed the head frantically against her clit, coating it with her juice, trying to pull him closer.

He was a statue, immovable, and the more she tried, the more frustrated she became.

“Please, Jack. I want your cock.”

“Not yet, my sweet. You’re not ready.”

“I am,” she groaned petulantly. “I am ready. So ready. Can’t you feel it?”

“You’re wet, that’s true. In fact, you’re sopping. Do you think you’ve ever been wetter?”

“No, I’ve never been this horny. I’m always wet when I’m with you but now it’s beyond that. I’m going crazy. I need it.”

“If you’re telling me you need it, you’re not ready yet. You have a long way to go.”

Disappointment hit her hard. Tears of frustration filled her eyes and trailed down her cheeks. She gulped down the humiliation, hiccupped and started coughing.

“Quiet now,” he said soothingly. “Stand up. We have many more miles to go before you rest.”

Jack guided her into a sitting position then helped her to her feet. She was unsteady and took a few seconds before she could stand unaided.

“Now some more of the floggers. We’ll try this one. It’s a little way up the scale in intensity from the first,” he said, picking up one that had a handle of woven black and white strips. The strand ends were unadorned. “Let me know how this feels.”

The first swipes were simply that, light brushes across the tops of her breasts. Sandrine could see the skin reddening but not alarmingly so. It felt good, especially when the strands hit her nipples. As the intensity increased, so did the sharpness of sensation. She held her breath, not sure whether the gradual ramping up was stimulating or distressful. That was the problem, she decided, she was torn between two conflicting points of view and her body was sending so many different signals she had no idea how to interpret them.
Plug me into a power socket and I’ll be far less confused.

Sandrine was about to call a halt to the flogging when Jack started anew, directing the lashes between her legs. Lightly at first, then increasing in intensity. Rapid-fire, softer then gradually harder, he traced the skin around her pubis. She wasn’t sure how he did it but no two strokes were the same, differing in so many ways and gradually building her up as surely as the riding crop had.

Before she knew it, her heart rate was through the roof and she was panting hard. The uncontrollable, crashing vibrations were sending shockwaves through her body. She lost track of where she was and focused solely on what was happening to her. It was completely enveloping, especially when the soft strands whipped across her clit. Each time that happened, she gave out a little yelp. It got to the stage where, inwardly, she was begging for the whip’s contact on her clit.

When it stopped, her legs buckled and she almost tumbled to the floor. Jack swept in and grabbed her just in time. She held him close, whimpering words so softly he had to place his ear close to her mouth to hear her. She was saying: “More, more.” over and over.

“Next stage, beautiful girl, but I think you need some help staying upright.”

He led her to a bench, thickly padded and covered in black leather. It was a strange shape, and it looked like something out of Jack’s gym. It stood about 20 inches high and it was only when he’d positioned her in a kneeling position and buckled her into padded cuffs on the wrists and ankles that she realised just how it worked. In her befuddled mind, it made no difference. Her arse was angled into the air and her head along the length of the bench. She was completely immobile, unable to move an inch.

Jack walked around her, slapping her buttocks sharply, then rubbing the stinging area with the palm of his hand.

“Nice, baby. You look so cute,” to which Sandrine said nothing. She would soon find out what this was all about. Unable to move or see behind her, Sandrine tensed for another blow but was nicely surprised when Jack walked around and stood in front of her. Her face was level with his crotch. She inhaled deeply, the aroma of leather, sweat and old sex filling her. Her mouth watered. “Do you need further soothing?”

“Yes, please.”

“As you’re being so very polite, it’s only fair I should reward you.”

He unbuckled a panel at the front of his pants slowly, dragging out the tension second by second. Sandrine was excited to realise he had nothing on under the pants. He was only partially erect and it struck Sandrine as a truly beautiful sight as it pulsed while slowly lengthening and thickening.

“This is what you do to me, darling, all the time. Although seeing you trussed up like that certainly makes you even more compelling.”

“Then you must tie me up more often.”

“If you like it, then I’d be more than happy to.”

He moved closer until his cock hung exasperatingly close. Sandrine opened her mouth to accept it but he remained in place.

“Are you going to tease me all night?” she asked plaintively.

“Sorry, I am being rude.” He moved closer and slid his cock into her mouth. Sandrine eagerly accepted it. While Jack gently and lovingly stroked the hair out of her face, she worked her mouth as best she could. It spurred her on to feel Jack’s enjoyment.
He loves the way I love him. I could make him spurt if only he’d let me.

The restrictions of having her arms and legs tied down and being wholly immovable made her frustration highly sexual. It fed the passion flowing through her but there was nothing she could do about it. Only Jack could allow her to come and he was very much enjoying the torture of withholding satisfaction. In turn, it was further heightening her own sexual pleasure.

This looping, convoluted cause and effect, one thing leading to another and back again to the beginning – her natural horniness made worse by denial and deprivation, the continuation of which and Jack’s obvious delight in it and the physical effect it had on him, only made her more aroused – shaded the entire experience with unexpected depth and colour.

That she had no idea where it would go or how it would end, obviously increased the excitement factor. Would it elicit such a frenzy next time? she wondered. Sandrine was anticipating the opportunity to find out.
If this is what the Games Room is all about, I want more. I want to experience it all.

There was no hiding the immense satisfaction Jack was experiencing. With each push of his hips as his cock glided into her mouth, it was stretching further.
How big can it get? It’s large enough in normal situations but it’s enormous now.
He was grunting hoarsely and his usual steely self-control was starting to crack under the strain, apparent in the jerkily reflexive twitch of his hips as her mouth closed hungrily around the hypersensitive head of his cock.

He’s close, very very close. Give it to me, Jack. Come hard in my mouth, down my throat
, she urged silently.

Jack, however, had other plans. Tumescent, he pulled free and left his cock hanging just out of reach.

“Noooooo,” she cried.
So beautiful
, she thought,
such a wonderful part of him
. “Put it back. Let me make you come,” she begged.

Jack was gulping for breath. Sweat dripped from his flushed face despite the coolness of the room.

“Oh, my love, that’s so good. But no, not yet. I’m not finished with you yet,” he gasped, fighting for control. “Maybe later although the way you’re positioned I’m thinking of a much better place to unload.”

“Anywhere you want. You’re the boss.”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “I am.”

He walked halfway across the room to a high-backed library chair. It would have been a tasteful Victorian-era antique worthy of an elegant sitting room had it not been for the air of depravity intimated by the diamond-buttoned black leather upholstery and the chrome-studded restraints on the arms and front legs. This, it signalled, was for considerably more than just idly flicking through the
Wall Street Journal
.

Jack easily dragged it into place in front of Sandrine’s bench and sat down just a few inches from her face. It was an extreme provocation and she lost control in an instant, struggling, twisting, bucking to break free so she could crawl into his arms and engulf him anew.

“Don’t hurt yourself. Just relax. I think this a good time to talk.”

“No, no, please don’t do this yet. I’m so horny. I need to feel you inside me. I need to come so much,” she pleaded, frustration steering her dangerously close to a complete emotional collapse.

Jack smiled warmly. As impossible as it was for a man to look elegant while wearing what looked like a pair of leather chaps, recalling cowboys in the movies, except backwards with his genitals exposed, he came as close as anyone could to pulling it off. A bizarre realisation hit her: having your genitals on the outside of your body must be particularly cumbersome, if not completely uncomfortable.

Despite this, he was the very definition of delicious, his long hair tousled and damp with exertion, breathing heavily, his long legs splayed wide and his hard heavy cock lolling at an angle and pulsing. There was a knowing expression on his face, recognising just how crazy with lust she was at that moment and content to prolong the anticipation as long as possible.

“I thought this might be a good time for a chat,” he said simply.

“Nnnnnnoooo,” she cried, trying without success to break free of her bonds. “Ppppuuuullleease,” she hissed.
Torture. That’s what it is. Pure torture
.

“Not for long, darling. Hear me out. I appreciate that you wanted to come in here and I think I know why. You understand what I’ve been through the last few years; you consider you can make me forget and I’m pretty sure you’re right. But there’s also an element of curiosity as well. You have a boundless libido and we’re well matched in that area. It’s very unusual to find two people with similar sex drives.

“You’re very lucky in being so uncommonly sensitive to pleasure. You come easily during sex. Many women don’t. They need clitoral stimulation to climax. Some women have never orgasmed in their lives. You’re in the minority. You not only come easily, you recover quickly and your orgasms are explosive.

“You were initially reluctant, even scared, about what would happen in the Games Room. Whether it’s S&M or B&D, it’s not, as many people think, about inflicting or receiving pain. It
can
be that but it is also very many other things. It’s about experiencing an erotic charge. Tickling, feathers, ice cubes, hot wax, spankings, it goes on and on before it gets to anything remotely resembling whippings or beatings. Power play – someone who gets off being dominating, coupled with someone receiving pleasure from being dominated. It’s a relationship like any other.

“You don’t have to dress in bondage gear and a dog collar and spend your time on all fours although you do look so incredibly delectable in a corset. Pleasure and pain, one balancing the other, or swiftly alternating between the two. The extent depends on an individual’s thresholds. I don’t want to hurt you and you don’t want to be hurt. That’s the foundation of our relationship. I’ve noticed that fear and apprehension make you hyper-sensitive and we can work that into our games. With us, sex is fun and immensely enjoyable and I obtain the most incredible pleasure from your body.

“I hope you’ll think of our relationship as an adventure. I want to show you a little of what I like and hopefully you’ll like it as well. In return, I hope you’ll teach me some of your favourite things.”

“My most favourite thing is you, Jack,” Sandrine replied steadily. “We have a connection I’ve never had with anyone else. It was immediate, from the moment we met. Just the thought of you makes me wet and I can come almost from your touch. Sex with you is infinitely more satisfying than masturbating and that’s such a new experience for me. I want to be with you constantly. I’m on fire, crazy about you and I can’t stop needing you.”

When Jack smiled, there was a momentary sadness in his expression that Sandrine found irresistible.

“Thank you, Sandrine. You have no idea how much that pleases me. There’s just one more thing.” Jack brought out a piece of paper from the back pocket of his leather pants. He unfolded it and held it up so Sandrine could read it. “The results of my blood tests. I’m clean.”

“Then do what you want to do to me. Right now. Don’t wait. Don’t be gentle. And when you’re finished, give me all your cum. Wherever you want to put it.”

He stood up. His erection hung lazily, inches from Sandrine’s waiting mouth. She opened wide, trying to urge it forward but Jack shook his head.