back, hands fisted as her nails dug into her palms. Drawing up tight like a bow, her legs tensed and her toes curled inward. Her pelvis arced forward bringing her hipbones into contact with the hard, unyielding wood of the cross allowing no retreat. She remained that way, poised tense and quivering, but only for an instant before unbelievably, against all semblance of self-preservation, she relaxed and presented her ass, back and thighs for more.
It had been the same through at least two dozen lashes.
“Ma gamine, tu es magnifique!” Although the deep voice murmured incomprehensible words, his tone was unmistakably approving. “I believe you can take more.”
Breathing deeply, Mari opened her half-lidded eyes, but didn’t answer, although a definitive yes echoed in her head. He hadn’t posed a question, so being the good submissive that she was, she remained silent, savoring the exhilarating sensations coursing through her body. There was a pause as he walked away for a moment. When he returned and the next stroke fell, she hissed in a breath, as a delicious tremor wracked her body. True to his word, the bite was different, sharper… and much, much more.
She twisted her head trying to see what had replaced the silicone flogger.
“Eyes front, ma belle .” The quiet command in his low husky voice compelled her to turn around as more delicious heat exploded across the lower curves of her cheeks.
With a carnal groan from deep in her chest, she obeyed, resting her forehead against the cross as her body processed the intensified pain. Behind her, he waited, allowing time for her body to assimilate each exquisite nuance before whipping her again.
Master Arturo was good, as skilled as the whispered rumors had implied, for he didn’t rush the next lash, knowing too soon wouldn’t allow her already excited nerve endings to respond quite yet. Instead, when the ache reached a stunning plateau, then gradually receded to the point where she craved more, only then did he strike again. A novice would not know that he must wait in order for her to experience it to the fullest, only a skilled master would. What’s more, he would crave it himself.
Three more lashes with pauses in between, then she heard him cross to her other side. She angled her head enough to catch a glimpse as he took his stance, pulled back his left hand, and let loose. She gasped as the twin tails of what she recognized now as a leather quirt landed across both cheeks with the same searing force and intensity as it had with his right. He was ambidextrous, equally skilled with both hands. Her heart thrilled at the possibilities. This was a very unique dom— No, she should call him what he was, a unique sadist, unrivaled by any other she’d been with, even Derek.
No! She wouldn’t think it.
This was the exact reason she had sought to avoid him. Damn, Master Dex for putting her in this position.
For as long as she’d been aware of her unusual desire for pain, it had been this way. She wanted more, another bite of harsh leather, another slap of rigid wood, a sharp smack, slap or spank of a hard hand, a rigid cane, or a cutting whip on her quivering flesh. Others would have pleaded for mercy by now, but not her, a true masochist needed the tactile intensity, beyond that of what others found acceptable, to truly find satiation.
Her master had known that about her and was always the one to say when enough was enough. Random players at a club, strangers, wouldn’t know that. In part, this was the reason she restricted her play to moderate pain. Too much with someone who didn’t know that about her, who didn’t know she was unable to shut it down when she slid into sub space, could be dangerous.
The other part was the danger to her fragile heart. She couldn’t live through the agony of losing another master. It would kill her. The last time almost had, so she vowed to satisfy herself, as best she could, with random partners, but no sadists like Arturo
It had been the same through at least two dozen lashes.
“Ma gamine, tu es magnifique!” Although the deep voice murmured incomprehensible words, his tone was unmistakably approving. “I believe you can take more.”
Breathing deeply, Mari opened her half-lidded eyes, but didn’t answer, although a definitive yes echoed in her head. He hadn’t posed a question, so being the good submissive that she was, she remained silent, savoring the exhilarating sensations coursing through her body. There was a pause as he walked away for a moment. When he returned and the next stroke fell, she hissed in a breath, as a delicious tremor wracked her body. True to his word, the bite was different, sharper… and much, much more.
She twisted her head trying to see what had replaced the silicone flogger.
“Eyes front, ma belle .” The quiet command in his low husky voice compelled her to turn around as more delicious heat exploded across the lower curves of her cheeks.
With a carnal groan from deep in her chest, she obeyed, resting her forehead against the cross as her body processed the intensified pain. Behind her, he waited, allowing time for her body to assimilate each exquisite nuance before whipping her again.
Master Arturo was good, as skilled as the whispered rumors had implied, for he didn’t rush the next lash, knowing too soon wouldn’t allow her already excited nerve endings to respond quite yet. Instead, when the ache reached a stunning plateau, then gradually receded to the point where she craved more, only then did he strike again. A novice would not know that he must wait in order for her to experience it to the fullest, only a skilled master would. What’s more, he would crave it himself.
Three more lashes with pauses in between, then she heard him cross to her other side. She angled her head enough to catch a glimpse as he took his stance, pulled back his left hand, and let loose. She gasped as the twin tails of what she recognized now as a leather quirt landed across both cheeks with the same searing force and intensity as it had with his right. He was ambidextrous, equally skilled with both hands. Her heart thrilled at the possibilities. This was a very unique dom— No, she should call him what he was, a unique sadist, unrivaled by any other she’d been with, even Derek.
No! She wouldn’t think it.
This was the exact reason she had sought to avoid him. Damn, Master Dex for putting her in this position.
For as long as she’d been aware of her unusual desire for pain, it had been this way. She wanted more, another bite of harsh leather, another slap of rigid wood, a sharp smack, slap or spank of a hard hand, a rigid cane, or a cutting whip on her quivering flesh. Others would have pleaded for mercy by now, but not her, a true masochist needed the tactile intensity, beyond that of what others found acceptable, to truly find satiation.
Her master had known that about her and was always the one to say when enough was enough. Random players at a club, strangers, wouldn’t know that. In part, this was the reason she restricted her play to moderate pain. Too much with someone who didn’t know that about her, who didn’t know she was unable to shut it down when she slid into sub space, could be dangerous.
The other part was the danger to her fragile heart. She couldn’t live through the agony of losing another master. It would kill her. The last time almost had, so she vowed to satisfy herself, as best she could, with random partners, but no sadists like Arturo
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