OnLocation (6 page)

“That’s the only reason it’s here, love.” His voice was calm,
but the hand he placed on her shoulder was better. “I’m an expert in its use,
but it’s for chopping through jungle brush usually. There will be nothing done
to you with a knife tonight, and I would never use that knife in any sort of
play. It’s there for emergencies.”

She started to nod but that hurt her scalp so she stopped.
“Yes Sir.” Something in his voice reassured her. He sounded so calm and in
control.

He kissed the back of her neck. His hands slipped around her
waist. She could feel leather against her butt and warm skin on her upper back.
“You have such lovely skin. I could feel it all night long.”

“Mmm,” she purred. “Why don’t you?”

“I have to punish you. And besides, I enjoy giving pain.”

“Are you glad I was late, then. Sir?”

“No. I’d find a reason, no matter what.”

“Oh. Why, Sir?” She didn’t understand. She enjoyed teasing
her previous boyfriends, sometimes, but that was as much to make the moment
last as out of sadistic pleasure. They’d fall asleep as soon as they were
satisfied. Although there was a bit of evil glee there too. Still, she didn’t
understand wanting to give pain.

“It’s the way I’m wired. Why do you enjoy it, little sub?”

“I don’t!” Although she had enjoyed it in the morning.

“That’s one more stroke for lying, and one more stroke for
not saying Sir. I’m enjoying this conversation more and more.” He was too. She
could hear the smile in his voice.

“Yes Sir.” She still didn’t know the answer to his question.
Pain is not enjoyable by definition, right? Pleasure is good, pain is bad.
Simple. So why did the flogger feel so good when it stung? Why am I moving my
head to feel my hair pulling, as though scratching an itch? Why do I want to be
struck with the crop?

“Are you ready to be punished now, or should we keep
talking?”

She wanted to put it off, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to
risk adding strokes given that she didn’t even know how
one
would feel.
And she wanted to know. Dammit. She wondered if he knew what a dilemma he was
posing and then she played back the tone of his voice in her head. Yes, he knew
all right. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was teasing her. That
knowledge didn’t make it any easier to make a decision. Besides, she didn’t
want to. She wanted to give the right answer, whatever the right answer was.

“Whatever it is you wish, Sir,” she said. She said it to
avoid answering, but it sounded so right. If he wanted to add more strokes, he
would. She didn’t know how many she was getting anyway. But she wanted to
please him.

“We will start now then.” His hand cupped her breast, then
plucked lightly at her hardened peak. “I’m eager to see your ass redden. To
hear you shriek. But first, grab your chains, Teresa.”

“Huh?”

“It helps to have something to pull against. Grab your
chains. If you have to, yank on them. They’re very strong and the bed is very
well built.”

“I might be a bit heavier than the other girls you’ve tested
it on, Sir.”

Kyle chuckled. “I tested it myself. If I can’t break it, you
can’t.”

Oh. The image flashed through her mind of Kyle, half-naked
and chained, pulling on the chains, his muscles tensing with effort. For a
split second she thought of herself as a Mistress, standing behind him with a
flogger, and then she pushed it from her mind. She didn’t want their positions
to be reversed. That was the craziest thing of all. Just because he pulled at
chains on the bed didn’t mean he was wired that way, anyway. She would rather
be struck by the flogger or the crop, or even whatever mystery he might have
pulled from that drawer, than be the person wielding it. Even if he could take
more than she could. It didn’t matter.

She was where she needed to be, where she belonged. As she
grabbed the chains in her fists she was glad of them. They kept her there and
stopped her from fleeing. She couldn’t go anywhere. And that meant that in
spite of her fear she was going to get what she wanted.

He moved in front of her for a moment—picked something up,
perhaps, there was no way of knowing what—and stepped behind her.

“Seven,” he said. “One from this morning. Four for being
four minutes late. One for lying about your desires and one for not addressing
me with respect.”

“Seven. Yes Sir. I will take seven.” Not knowing what she
was taking, she didn’t know what she was promising, but she wanted to sound
confident, at least.

“If I enjoy the seven, I might continue.”

If
he
enjoyed the seven. “Yes Sir.” She wondered what
would make it pleasurable for him and what not. She wanted him to be pleased.
She wasn’t sure how to please him but she’d try her best. She wanted to be the
best woman he’d ever been with, and that made her falter. She had so little
experience.

“Just be you,” he said. Apparently he was reading her mind
again.

“Yes Sir.”

She felt his hand leave her shoulder and heard him step
back. “Bracing won’t help. Relax, little sub.”

Easy for him to say. She didn’t even know what to brace for,
although knowing might not help any. How could she be bracing? But she realized
her shoulders were scrunched tight. Even her ass was tense. She took deep
breaths, trying to follow directions and relax. She shook her feet and then
stayed still.

She wouldn’t have known what it was had it not been for the
morning in her bedroom, but the cascade of tails that hit her back was a comfort.
A flogger. It didn’t hurt; it was more like a heavy caress.

“Should I count, Sir?” She remembered reading about that in
some book.

“No. And these aren’t part of the seven either.”

Darn.
“Will you tell me when you’ve started for real
then?”

“You will know. There will be no doubt.”

That sounded ominous, but the thought was soon swept away as
the flogger flicked into her again. He alternated between strokes on her upper
back and on her ass, ignoring the parts in between. On her back it felt like a
massage but heavier, but the smacks on her ass warmed and aroused her. She
spread her legs wider, wanting a tail to flip up and caress her pussy, even
though she feared it would be too much. Still, she wanted something to soothe
the fire that was building between her legs. Or maybe she wanted more fuel for
the flame. Either way she wanted more of what he was giving.

She sagged in the chains, although her scalp instantly
reminded her why that was a bad idea and she straightened. She was thankful now
she couldn’t see. It focused her other senses. The smell of the leather. The
swish through the air, the sound of his breathing and the thudding splash of
the tails as they struck her skin. She rocked in time with it, catching on to
his rhythm, pushing her butt out for more of what she craved.
Who knew a
whip could feel so good? I could get addicted to this.

Something heavy hit the bed. For a moment nothing happened.
Then something swished through the air, almost whistling. There wasn’t time for
her to tense again before a white-hot bolt of stingy pain appeared on one butt
cheek. “Ah!” she yelped in response, not wanting to say ow but unable to keep
silent. It didn’t make her pussy juice or her nipples tighten. It hurt.

She could take it but she didn’t have to like it. It was all
sting and none of the heavy pressure the flogger provided, and it was way more
intense than when he’d flicked the ends of the flogger against her breasts.
I
will never like this.
He wasn’t lying when he said she’d know when the
seven started. She grabbed the chain and pulled, half wanting to get away, half
appreciating the comfort that came from knowing she couldn’t.

Another high swoosh and the other butt cheek joined the
first in distress. She managed to keep her voice down to a moan somehow.

The next sounded the same but felt entirely different.
Rather than a point, it made a line, all along the underside of her ass. And it
was rougher somehow, but didn’t sting quite as much. She felt her butt quiver
at the touch of it and the skin pulled on her pussy. It was intense, nearly as
much as the first two, but she could somehow take it better. He laid down
another line of fire an inch away from the first and she found herself sticking
out her ass for another blow even though they hurt like hell.

“Beautiful girl. You have a lovely ass, and it’s wonderful
to see it red and marked.”

He was pleased. She wiggled at him, although she couldn’t go
too far back without pulling uncomfortably on her head.

“You enjoy these ones, don’t you?” He punctuated the remark with
another stripy blow that made her toes curl and her hands clench. But he was
right. She did like it.

“Yes Sir.” She wanted to lie, but she didn’t know what would
happen if she did. The admission made her feel far more naked than her lack of
clothing did.

“Good girl.” He struck her again. It was much more painful
than the flogger, but she wanted it more. That seemed wrong. Still, her pussy
felt warmer and tingled more with every whoosh and painful line.

“I like both kinds, Teresa. Will you take the ones I like as
well as the ones you like?”

Fuck.
But she knew there was only answer she could
give. She wanted more, and she’d take the pain to get there. Besides, she
wanted to please him and loved hearing the pride in his voice when he called
her a good girl.

“Yes Sir.
Your
good girl.”

“Mine.” His voice sounded dangerously low and fierce. He
laid another line on her ass and then mixed in a couple points of pure sting,
although they didn’t feel as bad this time. She rocked against the bed, pulling
the chains. Even the way her hair pulled on her scalp felt pleasurable, and
rather than trying to stand still in order to minimize it, she started dancing
in tune with the punishment he was giving to her, using the hair-pulling
sensation as counterpoint to the pain in her ass.

We’ve gone way past seven.
But that didn’t seem to
matter anymore.

“So beautiful. So lovely,” he murmured as he worked, in a
voice that made her wonder if he was even conscious of what he was saying. It
was as if he couldn’t help but say it. And she couldn’t help but believe it.

The pain blurred until she could no longer be sure which
blows were in a line and which ones flamed from a point, or which ones were
“good” pain and which ones were bad. She felt a mixture of sweat and arousal
run down her leg, cooling as it trickled.
I shouldn’t be so turned-on by
this.

It wasn’t as if what he was doing was going to make her
come. Her arousal wasn’t building that way, and in fact the need to have her
pussy touched was receding, replaced by a warm glow. The stings stopped
hurting—she knew they were pain, pain she’d decided a few minutes ago she
didn’t like. Now it was all very distant and didn’t matter. She’d never been
very good at meditation, but she knew the basics, the idea that when thoughts
came one simply noted that they were thoughts and didn’t focus on them. Now she
felt something like that about the pain. It was noticed and her mind moved on,
focused on the fact that she was pleasing him and on the tingly ecstasy that
wriggled over her body and seemed to be renewed with every blow. No matter how
pink her bottom was, she felt beautiful, the way she’d always wanted to feel
when looking in a mirror but never quite did.

Funny, being whipped shouldn’t make me feel like a
goddess, and submitting shouldn’t make me feel worshipped.

But it did.

He stopped suddenly and bent down and unstrapped her ankles.
She panicked, afraid the moment of bliss was over, not wanting to return to
reality. But then he lifted her in his strong hands and she felt his cock
nestle against her pussy.

“Yes,” she said. His cock was hard. She’d turned him on. Now
she could satisfy him. She didn’t even think about her own pleasure as he
filled her, stretched her. She didn’t need any more than what he’d given her.
So it caught her unaware when he moved his hand to her mound, rubbed her clit
with his index finger and in three small strokes had her on the edge. It was as
if her whole body had felt so good it had masked the intensity of her arousal.

“Give it to me, little sub,” he whispered to her, and she
wondered what more she could give. Then he told her. “Come for me.”

She screamed. It was as if his words pushed her over, which
didn’t make sense. Fingers could do that, a cock could do that, but not a mere
command. Yet her pussy clenched around his cock, which seemed to grow even
bigger inside her, and she was grateful for his strong grip stopping her from
thrashing. Her hair pulled, the pain welcome in the mix of electric feeling
that started in her pussy and spread down every extremity.

Then he gasped and joined her, his strong body shuddering
against hers. “Yes!” he shouted.

“Give it to me, kind Sir,” she said softly.

He kissed the back of her neck tenderly and held her tight
while they caught their breaths. Then his deft hands untied her hair and
unclasped her wrists.

He lifted her and carried her to the bed, sitting down on it
and holding her in his lap. Her bottom stung when it encountered his hard
thigh.

“How was your flight?” he asked.

She didn’t understand what he meant. It seemed a very odd
time to be asking about her trip from the States to Australia. “Hmm?”

“Flying. That’s what people in the scene call what you did.
Or sometimes they call it entering subspace. The way you felt when the pain
changed.” He kissed her cheek. “I don’t want to describe it too much, because
it’s what you felt that matters.” His hands went to work in her hair, loosening
the braid.

“Oh!” She blushed.
Flying
was a good term for it.
On
another planet
might have worked too. She still felt as light as a feather
and snuggling against him helped stop it from fading as fast. “It was
wonderful. Why did you stop?” She giggled. “Coming was wonderful too.” She
reached up for her blindfold.