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“Gorgeous,” I said softly from behind, cruising my hand over her belly to her mons then downward, cupping her, feeling the heat of her pussy. I recalled how she’d reacted the other time, when I’d held her tight. I barred my other arm across below her bare breasts, squashing in her bound arms. Her breathing deepened and a small, almost imperceptible, shudder ran through her body. My middle finger, when extended, nestled beautifully into her slit.
Very wet. Good. I had at least one piece of knowledge.
“So, you like tight bondage?”
Her breathing stalled, and a second later, she shook her head vigorously in negation.
Here, now, I doubted she’d admit to liking her favorite food, let alone bondage. I eyed the dark window. She didn’t know I’d set her facing them. I had my reasons, apart from letting the client think it was to display her.
“I don’t believe you. But let’s see.”
Before they could complain about us chatting, I went to my pile of implements and selected the softer, thuddier flogger.
I took one breath, released it, and began on her back.
The wide falls of the flogger laced across her – back, breasts, ass, and upper thighs. I circumnavigated, painting her with red lines. I planned to cover her body with my strikes, sensitizing her to the feel of light pain. But I didn’t dare keep this mild play up for long, not when our watchers wanted more. As I increased the zip of the leather through the air, Jazmine tried to turn away, her feet searching for somewhere to go. The chains held her in place. It would be hurting now.
I aimed some blows between her legs, slapping the leather near her clit. Light hits. Heavier ones on her thighs.
Did she spread her legs? Was that a breathy shudder? Eagle-eyed and greedy to both harm and please her, I concentrated on her pussy.
Her lips worked, pursing, pouting, and huffing.
Was it good or bad for her? She was new to this and I was new to her. I had a theory that most could be trained to like pain. It was only a theory. Some serious masochists craved the immediate, nastier, harder stuff, but this woman...I had no idea.
I watched. I studied her to get a fast degree in Jazmine 101. I picked up the stingier flogger and whisked her skin, here and there, then swung it in forcefully. What got her moving and breathing differently? What made her moan?
Ahh. Her face had contorted.
More strikes, more sting, until she seemed crosshatched in red.
I recoiled, just for a second.
What I was doing? This was terrible. Deep inside, I knew it. I walled it off.
Afterward, I can help her.
Now, I had to be her sadistic torturer.
Panting, I admired my work. Her tits heaved. The leather squeaked as it stretched. I stepped in closer until I could feel her exhalations on my chest where I’d undone some buttons. My sexy victim. Her breasts were an all-over pink and her slit showed the puffiness of arousal and my blows.
Sweat saturated the twists of hair that fell across my eyes. It was hot, thirsty work, beating a woman. The tropical atmosphere penetrated even the thick concrete of this bunker-like building. I dried my palms on my pants and tossed my head to clear my view. Then I took her hair in my fist and kissed her.
“Are you liking that? Are you hurting?”
No answer. If I could see her eyes, would they be glazed? I was tempted to remove the blindfold.
I nipped her upper lip, listening to her small sounds of protest. Slowly, I ran my hands over her plumped and warm breasts. A woman trussed like this looked succulent to me. Biteable. Her nipples jutted out, tight, tempting me. I stooped to suck one into my mouth, circling it with my tongue, before sucking some more, then doing the same to the other breast.
“Pieter.” She wriggled but I wasn’t letting her go.
“Hmm?”
Moans and little gasps accompanied my sucking, as well as a jerk when I grabbed a handful of her no doubt throbbing ass.
But... Pain, remember? I stepped away to my pile of goodies and found the forceps, returned to her to decide where to apply them first. Not her clit...not yet.
I took hold of one areola with finger and thumb, and nudged my thigh onto her slit. Pleasure and pain, always.
