‘How do you feel?’
‘Great,’ I murmur. ‘Bloody wonderful.’
‘Excellent. Let’s get you strapped in.’
As ever, he takes his time fastening the bindings, concentrating fully on the job in hand. He wraps the leather cuffs around my wrists, and then my ankles, checking that I’m comfortable. When he’s satisfied, he moves my hair out of my face.
‘Ready?’ he asks.
‘Ready,’ I confirm.
He plants a tender kiss on my forehead.
‘It fucking turns me on to see you like this, Maya.’
‘And I love it.’
I’m stating the ruddy obvious here. My breathing’s already shallow, and my vagina’s twitching for England. Suddenly, a finger probes me. I moan.
‘You’re wet.’
‘I can’t help it.’
He removes the finger and brings it to my mouth, running it firmly across my lips.
‘Taste yourself.’
I do as I’m told, licking away the wetness.
‘I’d love to gag you,’ he murmurs. ‘Then I’d have you completely.’
The words come quickly. I’m feeling reckless.
‘Do it.’
‘Next time, maybe. More practice first.’
He walks away. I hear the sound of the wardrobe door sliding open. He’s fetching the flogger. It’s not long before he returns, placing one hand on the small of my back, holding me firmly, the other on my right buttock.
‘Warm up time,’ he reminds me. ‘Don’t fight it. Concentrate on your breathing. Use your safeword if you change your mind.’
‘Like that’s going to happen.’
Immediately, he slaps me hard on the left buttock. I jolt in surprise.
‘Behave yourself. No back-chat.’
He slaps my right buttock, a little less harshly this time, and then, without a break, he continues, alternating between the two, spanking lightly. Within seconds, my flesh comes alive with a stinging sensation. A minute or so later, he stops.
‘Harder now,’ he tells me.
The hand on my back presses down, and he begins to slap again, left and right, left and right, increasing the speed and intensity.
‘No,’ I gasp, although I have no idea why. I’m already loving it.
‘You know what to say.’
‘God.’
‘And you’ll never say it.’ More slaps rain down. ‘I wonder why that is.’
I squeeze my eyes shut, my flesh burning now, fists clenched. Growing steadily weaker under his control, I bite back the urge to yell for coffee. I know exactly where this is going, and there’s no way I’m about to put a halt to it.
He pauses, pulls down my knickers and smooths a hand over my skin.
‘Cooking nicely.’ He tugs the knickers back into place. ‘You’re nearly there.’
A second long, hard session begins, fast at first, then slowing in pace. Eyes still closed, I make an effort to unclench my fists, silently willing my muscles to relax, focussing on my breathing, consciously keeping it under control as each glorious, stabbing dart of heat sears right to my core.
He comes to a halt. Slipping a finger into the top of my knickers, he rips them away, and skims a palm across my bare buttocks.
‘Time for the endorphins.’
‘Mmm, endorphins,’ I murmur. ‘Yummy.’
I hear him chuckle, feel the leather strands of the flogger against my skin. Over and over again, he draws them across my buttocks, up and down my back, covering every inch of flesh. Before long, I’m tingling, shimmering, glowing.
I hear a soft thud. The flogger’s been dropped to the floor.
A finger comes to my clitoris, softly massaging me, patiently bringing me to the edge. I’m almost there when he launches into the next round of spanking: short upward slaps, maybe ten on each side. It doesn’t last long. I’m still reeling at the shock when the finger returns to my clit, urging me back towards an orgasm. And then he slaps again, repeating the process, taking the air clean out of my lungs and forcing me to focus back on my breathing. It’s not easy, but I’m finally rewarded. Pain begins to mutate, transforming into something different altogether, an all-consuming, delicious flood of pleasure that washes through me, body and mind. I’m on the verge of oblivion when he stops again, this time, pressing a finger against my clit, and sending waves of energy through my groin.
‘Oh, Jesus, let me come.’
‘All in good time.’
And now something new. He flicks the lengths of leather against my vagina and clit. Quick bites of pain skim across nerve endings, fizzling out into a sea of warmth.
‘Oh fuck.’
‘Like that?’
‘Yes.’
‘Want more?’
‘Yes, please.’
He gives me more. I have no idea how long he spends flicking the flogger against me, but by the time he’s finished, I’m close to bliss, or ecstasy … or complete madness.
He must have dropped the flogger again – this time I hear no thud – and a single, hard slap lands on my left buttock. I’m given time to soak up the sensation before the same happens to the right. And then he spanks my clitoris, this time with short sharp actions. Almost immediately, I come, every last muscle contracting and pulsating down below. I get no time to rest. A hand comes to the back of my neck, another to my right hip, and he’s inside me, thrusting hard. Before the first orgasm’s anywhere near finished, the pressure builds again, with a renewed intensity.
‘Shit,’ I scream.
The hand tightens on my neck, and he pounds harder, hitting the back of my vagina every single time, keeping to the same unforgiving rhythm. Muscles contract again, and before long I’m free-falling through a second orgasm. Finally, his grip becomes vice-like, the thrusts vicious, and I know he’s there. At last, he comes, filling me quickly, withdrawing and slapping again, alternating
