AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Have fun, then. Good luck, sweetie."
Avalon was quieter than most nights, which played well in his favor. He led Anarchy into the walkway, grateful they'd get the punishment finished before the bulk of the regular members arrived after nine. It gave him the chance to pick the most suitable station for the three elements of the scene.
There was only one couple already playing in barn two, and they hadn't chosen the equipment he required. Shifting slightly, he set his free hand on the small of Anarchy's back and urged her ahead of him, steering her in the direction of the pillory in the center of the room. The muscles under his hand went rigid, her stride faltered.
Once on the low platform, he removed the support of his palm. Soft brown eyes, so worried, pleaded with him. "Kneel, Anarchy. Legs wide, one hand behind your back and the other playing with that pussy. Two fingers inside and your thumb on your clit."
"Master Jasper, please, I..." Archie's voice trailed off and she lowered her eyes to the floor. "Yes, Master."
Down she went, dropping to her knees and spreading them open so he could just see her slit in the light. Already plump and pink, concealed in the tidily tended golden nest of her pubic hair. She curled her left arm behind her back, and her right hand settled over her pussy.
Jasper walked around her, pleased. As he returned to stand in front of her, he used his boot to nudge her knees a few inches wider. "Just like that, Anarchy. Fuck that pussy with your fingers until you're ready to orgasm, then stop. I will know if you don't."
Leaving her to it, he set the case down and inspected the equipment. She would have to stay still of her own accord for the whipping, but it gave her hips plenty of room to evade his cock when he fucked her. The sadist in him didn't mind a chase now and then. He ran his hands over the metalwork, found the mechanism to alter the height of the pillory, and the length of the leg restraints.
Satisfied with the results for the moment, he dragged a small table over and retrieved the oak case. There was a touch of reverence in his movements as he laid the case on the table and flipped the three locks. The lid opened smoothly and then his favorite toy shone under the lights.
He'd had this particular beauty for almost a decade, but it was much older. It wasn't one of the newer synthetic models made from polypropylene, but an original South African sjambok imported from its country of origin long before the strict laws on animal products were introduced.
This type of whip wasn't plaited with thin leather strips into one length. It was carved from the thick, tough hide of a hippopotamus. Because of the material it was crafted from, it had a propensity to break and crack without the proper care; Jasper cleaned and oiled his after every use.
A rush of adrenaline surged through his veins as he lifted the sjambok from its box, relishing the familiar weight. It had some heft to it, a solidness to it which belied the speed and lightness of its swing. At forty inches, it wasn't as long or as whippy as the tail of a bullwhip, but it could curl around an ass like a pair of hands.
Anarchy whimpered.
Almost there already? She was more aroused by this than she was willing to admit.
He swished the whip through the air as he wandered back to her, crouching down to slip his hand between her thighs, over the top of hers, and push two of his digits alongside the two already occupying the tight, hot sheath. Wetness coated him, slicking his fingers and down his hand. Her inner muscles were quivering in the first spasms of orgasm.
"Please, Sir." Archie's face was brilliantly flushed, her breath rushing over parted lips.
"No. Hold both your hands out in front of you."
When she jerked, cringing back, he read her thoughts clearly in her eyes. She believed he was going to strike her hands. Well, she was wrong about that, and she was about to learn an important lesson in trust.
"Hands out," he repeated darkly. "Palms up. Close your eyes."
Round and around those thoughts went, stirring her anxiety and arousal into a frenzy she couldn't control. After a few long seconds, those brown eyes squeezed tightly shut and her hands were offered to him, shaking as they awaited a blow that would never come.
He dropped the cane-like whip onto her palms, wrapped her cold fingers around the smooth leather. "This is what I'll hurt you with, Anarchy. You're afraid of it—don't be. It's only a tool to be used and, like anything, it's the person wielding the tool who has the intent. Not the tool itself. Touch it, stroke it. It won't harm you, and neither will I."
Her swallow was audible. Sweat broke out on her forehead, her temples, and he understood how much pressure she'd put herself under by fearing it. "May I say something, please, Sir?"
"Go ahead."
Anarchy pushed the sjambok back at him. "I don't want you to use the hippo stick."
Because her eyes were closed, he allowed himself to grin. Hippo stick. "That's my choice, Anarchy. You've seen me use it before. Have I ever drawn blood with it, rendered a sub comatose with pain? That's what scares you, isn't it? Unleashing the sadist with an implement that looks worse than it is."
"Yes, Sir."
"I'll ask you this once, now, when the bond between us is strained. Do you trust me to deliver this punishment fairly, to recognize your limits and abide by them?" God, he really hoped the answer was yes. If it was anything but, he'd royally fucked this up.
Her fingers tightened on the leather. "I trust your judgement, Master."
"Good girl. You are my very good girl." He imbued his words with pride, cupping her cheek and stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. "Up on your feet, kitten. Let's get it over with."
Jasper helped her to her feet this time, leaving the sjambok in her grasp as he lifted her to standing. Adorably, she kept her eyes stubbornly shut to the world, letting him guide her to the pillory. Slipping the whip from her hands, he lifted the hinged section of the pillory and urged her down with a firm grip on her nape.
