To Command And Collar

“Cramp.”

“Very good.” His grin flashed at her. “Which will make you scream first, gatita-the sting of the lash or the fury of your orgasm?”

Oh boy, how could he terrify her and turn her on at the same time? Sensuality darkened his face as he regarded her, not hiding the pleasure he got from playing with her. Not hiding his intention to exercise his power as her master.

I can’t believe I’m here. Doing this…wanting this. Yet the more she surrendered, the more she felt a part of him.

He knew. He touched her cheek, his gaze softening.

She stared at him helplessly, bound with more than physical restraints.

The flogger he used next didn’t hurt. Like a million elves drumming on her skin, the strands of the flogger moved from her back to her front.

She stared at him, almost mesmerized. So big, shoulders broad, his chest and arm muscles rippled with each movement. His control was absolute, his focus totally on her and the flogger as if it connected them like an umbilical cord.

He lightened the strokes over her stomach and thighs, even lighter over her breasts, making them swell and throb. The very lightest flick between her legs sent her up onto her toes with surprise, followed by a hot rush of pleasure.

He saw, and a smile softened his stern features. As he circled her, her skin grew more sensitive, started to burn. And somehow her pussy throbbed as if it had swollen too much.

A pause. His hands stroked her body, soothing the ache. He moved in front of her and studied her for a silent moment. Then the corners of his eyes crinkled. “You are very beautiful, all aroused and ready for the bite of the lash.” His palms covered her breasts, and he watched her intently as he pinched her nipples lightly, then harder, rolling the peaks between his fingers.

She closed her eyes as pleasure washed through her.

“Look at me.”

She forced her eyes open, stiffening as his hand moved to her pussy, sliding through her folds. The streak of sharp pleasure was almost painful, unexpected, and she made a protesting sound.

“Shhh, gatita. You want this-there is no shame in it, in being a woman. In letting your master rouse your body.” He smiled, fingers pushing intimately inside her, then out and over her clit. Over and in, repeating until her hips pressed forward into each movement.

Oh God, I need more. She hadn’t dreamed she could get so hot, so needy.

Then he smiled. “Very good. You’re ready.” His gaze was level, direct, utterly in control and confident.

And she nodded. She could handle pain if he was in charge.

He kissed her slowly and then ravenously. “Sumisita mia,” he said, tipping her chin up. “After this, I intend to take you.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Hard.”

Her vagina clenched. As her gaze dropped to his groin, delight rose inside her. “As Master wishes.”

“Yes, my gatita’s submission-and body-makes me needy.” He touched his nose to hers, took in her breath. “I’ve missed taking you every morning before breakfast.”

She closed her eyes and breathed, “Me too.” Waking alone, wanting him so much she’d slept with an extra pillow to have something to hold.

He pressed another kiss to her lips, then walked away. A second later, she heard the crack of a whip.

Panic rolled over her, drowning her in memories. Slicing pain after pain, screaming. She pulled frantically at the chains, her breathing a tropical storm turning into a hurricane.

“Kimberly.” His voice cut through the winds. “You will take this for me.”

Silence grew around her, the fears held at bay with just his voice…and her need to please him. Master R, not Greville. Master R would stop if she needed him to…and so she could go on. “Yes, Master. I will.”

The first touch of the whip was a flicker: here, there, up, and down. A little sting, the rhythm almost soothing. A brush over her skin like a rough kiss. More. She’d never watched whipping scenes. Who knew it could be so… sensuous?

After a while, he walked forward to rub her back. Played with her breasts, sending new sparks of arousal flickering through her body. His erection pressed into her from behind, and he ground it against her bottom, making her feel the lingering burn from her spanking. His fist closed in her hair, tugging her head to the side. His voice was low and ruthless, sending a thrill through her. “Now, I’m going to push you, Kimberly. And you will take it-for me.”

He obviously felt her shiver; his laugh was guttural. Terrifying. Hot. He moved away, but she could hear him. “That’s my good girl.”

A crack, a tiny whoosh, then the sting, pain blooming beneath her skin. She gasped, a little shocked. That hurt. He kept on, over and over, like the bite of flame from the fireplay, the whip was a flash of pain that almost seemed to light her up inside.

Down her ass, a few touches on her thighs that zapped straight to her clit until-oh, God, she was shaking with the need to come.

The intensity increased. More. Sharper. She sucked in her breath to keep from yelling. He eased off to the sweet brushing strokes. Harder again. Stinging, shocking, burning…pain.

Nothing moved, but she fell backward, tumbling into the ocean, surrounded by softness. Her eyes half-focused on the tide rolling in on the white shore, and she realized his strokes were timed to the ocean waves. The pain hit and rolled over her, flowing back out before the next one. So wonderful yet so arousing. The whip strokes slowly moved down her ass, her thighs, and back up.

His body was against hers again, warm, holding her.

“Eyes on me,” he said, turning her head. Brown gaze, calm and wonderful.

She smiled at him and savored his grin.

“Look at you. Even under a whip, you trusted me enough to hit subspace,” he murmured, kissing her until the ground disappeared from under her. “I’m very proud of you, gatita.” He pulled back. “Tell me your safe word.”

“Cramp. Only I don’t need it,” she confided.

His eyes crinkled. “I’m going to give you five more, and they will hurt.”

A worry started to rise in her. She heard the sharp crack behind her, but nothing hit.

“Take a breath, gatita.” Firm. Her master.

An orgasm seemed to be floating inside, waiting, as she inhaled.

“Let it out.”

She breathed out and heard a crack and razor-sharp pain shot across her right buttock. She sucked in a breath, feeling her body jerk, and as she exhaled, another line of fire hit. Yet it was Master R doing it, expecting her to handle it, making her take it, and that sent her even deeper. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Another razor cut of pain jolted her to her core and another- white-hot pain-and another.

Through the surging of the blood in her head, she heard his footsteps. His arms surrounded her, pulled her into his warmth. “I’m so proud of you. You have pleased me very much,” he murmured into her hair.

She blinked at him. “I will take more if you need me to, Master.”

He frowned. “Do you want more?”

“No. But if you-”

“No, gatita. You’re not a masochist.” He kissed her cheek. “For which I am very happy. You have had enough.”

She sighed, still half in the clouds, and when he kissed her long and slow, her whole body reminded her of what she wanted. “Can we go somewhere and…?”

His head lifted, brown eyes keen. Hot.

“And make love,” she finished. It would be love. She knew that.

His grin flashed. “Are you saying, ‘Just fuck me already?’”

She choked, but the throbbing of her lower half wouldn’t be denied. “Yes, Master. If Master pleases.”

“Oh, that will please Master,” he said, gripping her hair. “But we aren’t going inside, Kimberly.”

Out here? Her eyes rounded.

Laughing softly, he unsnapped the chains holding her legs apart and then reached up to the panic snaps above.