relentless stimulation.
The menacing swish cut through the air again, and this time it ended with a flat split of sound that, for a moment, Suka did not recognise as the cane’s contact with her bottom. But in a millisecond ferocious white-hot pain streaked a line across her cheeks and she needed all her breath control, every scrap, not to scream like a banshee.
“ Ohh , ohh , one, Sir,” she whimpered, trying to escape, trying to distract him with her swinging hips, trying to do anything that might get her out of any more of those breathtaking stripes.
“Is that painful?” he asked, with pretend sympathy. “Poor Suka . I think we’ve found the implement for her. I think we’ve found the thing that will work. I’ll take this back with me too.”
Oh, please do!
His words spurred her on. Cheekily, she pushed out her bum, inviting the second stroke.
It hit the end of the butt plug, causing it to shudder inside her and increase the intensity of the vibrations. Vibrations all over her, from the sting, from the plug, from the dildo, from the clit buzzers, she was one big vibration.
“Two, Sir.”
He laid the third and fourth vicious cuts on the ‘sit’ spot where she would feel them for days on end. She counted them, and went further than that, thanking him as well.
“You’re thanking me?” he said in surprise. “You’re quite a girl, Suka . Quite a girl. Thank me for this .”
It whipped down across her lower buttocks, adding its burn to that which already licked across her punished skin.
“Five, Sir, thank you, Sir, oh, I’m on fire!”
“Last one. Brace yourself. It’ll be a hard one.”
He was right. It set her leaping from one extended foot to the other, yelping and yowling, powerless to do anything to douse that evil conflagration on her bottom. The vibrators made her come again, the sixth orgasm at the sixth stroke, a fusion of passion and pleasure and pain that left her shaking and tearful.
“You didn’t count,” chided Paul, but he seemed beyond caring, hurrying to pull out her dildo and replace it with his stiff, thick cock. His thrusts were quick and powerful, his abdomen slapping against her throbbing bottom, reawakening the sting, butting the plug, making her scream through a final climax that lasted for minutes rather than seconds, multiple melting orgasms that didn’t end until Paul had come inside her, his fingers bruising her hips, his last words a reminder that she belonged to him.
Suka trembled through the uncuffing and removal of the toys and fell against Paul, who gathered her close, lifted her and carried her to the one comfortable-looking prop in the whole room—an old-fashioned four-poster bed. He laid her down, then took off his boots and uniform and joined her, lying propped on his side. Through half-closed eyes Suka could see him looking down at her, his expression sombre, his face streaked with sweat.
She felt limbless, floating in the ether, everything inside her scooped out to make a hollow, weightless shell. She could feel the angry throb of the cane welts, but they seemed irrelevant somehow, and far below her surface.
“Who won that then?” wondered Paul aloud.
“We both did.” Suka’s voice was dreamy and faraway.
“I didn’t go too far for you, did I? You would have said something, wouldn’t you?”
Suka lifted a hand and put it to his cheek, barely managing to keep her arm raised, it shook so.
“Oh God, tell me it’s okay?” Paul sounded agitated. “You’re okay, Suka ? I feel guilty. I’ve taken it over the edge.”
“No.” Suka’s languid tones seemed to soothe him a little. “It was the best thing ever. It was just incredible.”
“Really? You aren’t just saying that because you don’t want to go back to the ship?”
“No. Not at all. I mean it. It was. You were. Just like the old-fashioned doms I’ve read and dreamed about. Fantasy come true.”
“That’s…good,” said Paul, but he sounded
The menacing swish cut through the air again, and this time it ended with a flat split of sound that, for a moment, Suka did not recognise as the cane’s contact with her bottom. But in a millisecond ferocious white-hot pain streaked a line across her cheeks and she needed all her breath control, every scrap, not to scream like a banshee.
“ Ohh , ohh , one, Sir,” she whimpered, trying to escape, trying to distract him with her swinging hips, trying to do anything that might get her out of any more of those breathtaking stripes.
“Is that painful?” he asked, with pretend sympathy. “Poor Suka . I think we’ve found the implement for her. I think we’ve found the thing that will work. I’ll take this back with me too.”
Oh, please do!
His words spurred her on. Cheekily, she pushed out her bum, inviting the second stroke.
It hit the end of the butt plug, causing it to shudder inside her and increase the intensity of the vibrations. Vibrations all over her, from the sting, from the plug, from the dildo, from the clit buzzers, she was one big vibration.
“Two, Sir.”
He laid the third and fourth vicious cuts on the ‘sit’ spot where she would feel them for days on end. She counted them, and went further than that, thanking him as well.
“You’re thanking me?” he said in surprise. “You’re quite a girl, Suka . Quite a girl. Thank me for this .”
It whipped down across her lower buttocks, adding its burn to that which already licked across her punished skin.
“Five, Sir, thank you, Sir, oh, I’m on fire!”
“Last one. Brace yourself. It’ll be a hard one.”
He was right. It set her leaping from one extended foot to the other, yelping and yowling, powerless to do anything to douse that evil conflagration on her bottom. The vibrators made her come again, the sixth orgasm at the sixth stroke, a fusion of passion and pleasure and pain that left her shaking and tearful.
“You didn’t count,” chided Paul, but he seemed beyond caring, hurrying to pull out her dildo and replace it with his stiff, thick cock. His thrusts were quick and powerful, his abdomen slapping against her throbbing bottom, reawakening the sting, butting the plug, making her scream through a final climax that lasted for minutes rather than seconds, multiple melting orgasms that didn’t end until Paul had come inside her, his fingers bruising her hips, his last words a reminder that she belonged to him.
Suka trembled through the uncuffing and removal of the toys and fell against Paul, who gathered her close, lifted her and carried her to the one comfortable-looking prop in the whole room—an old-fashioned four-poster bed. He laid her down, then took off his boots and uniform and joined her, lying propped on his side. Through half-closed eyes Suka could see him looking down at her, his expression sombre, his face streaked with sweat.
She felt limbless, floating in the ether, everything inside her scooped out to make a hollow, weightless shell. She could feel the angry throb of the cane welts, but they seemed irrelevant somehow, and far below her surface.
“Who won that then?” wondered Paul aloud.
“We both did.” Suka’s voice was dreamy and faraway.
“I didn’t go too far for you, did I? You would have said something, wouldn’t you?”
Suka lifted a hand and put it to his cheek, barely managing to keep her arm raised, it shook so.
“Oh God, tell me it’s okay?” Paul sounded agitated. “You’re okay, Suka ? I feel guilty. I’ve taken it over the edge.”
“No.” Suka’s languid tones seemed to soothe him a little. “It was the best thing ever. It was just incredible.”
“Really? You aren’t just saying that because you don’t want to go back to the ship?”
“No. Not at all. I mean it. It was. You were. Just like the old-fashioned doms I’ve read and dreamed about. Fantasy come true.”
“That’s…good,” said Paul, but he sounded
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