The Secret Life of a Submissive and Bonds of Love: 2-book BDSM Erotica Collection. Sarah K

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       Chapter Seven

      ‘… the only way to a woman’s heart is along the path of torment. I know none other as sure.’

       Marquis de Sade

      ‘So what happened next?’ I asked, completely caught up in Eva and Max’s story. I’m nosey, I’m a storyteller. I love the narrative of other people’s lives. I wanted to know how it turned out and what Eva taught him – although it did occur to me that the chances were I might find out anyway. My knees ached from kneeling on the floor beside him, and I had completely forgotten the rules about not speaking unless spoken to and calling Max ‘Sir’. A fact not lost on him. He offered me his hand.

      ‘What happens next? Next, Sarah, I punish you for breaking the rules. Stand up.’

      I hesitated for an instant and then saw the look on Max’s face. He wasn’t joking.

      ‘Pain and pleasure’, he said, ‘are close companions. Like opposite sides of the same coin. I’ll make sure that when you’re with me you experience both, but sometimes there will be only pain – remember that. Now stand up and face the wall. Put your hands flat against the wall, level with your shoulders.’

      I did as I was told. Max stood behind me, and with his foot eased my feet apart until they were at shoulder width. From the corner of my eye I could see him taking something from the leather holdall he had brought with him. Something with a handle, something around two feet long and topped with a head of long suede leather strips.

      ‘This is one of my favourite toys, thanks to Eva,’ Max said. ‘It’s a flogger. She loved being flogged. I have a man who makes them for me.’ As Max spoke he drew the narrow strips through his closed fingers and then swished them to and fro thoughtfully. ‘How many times do you think you’ve broken the rules today?’ he asked, before trailing the long strands of the flogger down over my shoulders and back, the leather thongs making my skin tingle.

      ‘I don’t know – a few …’ I grimaced and bit my lip. ‘Sir,’ I added as an afterthought.

      ‘You see, that’s another one. What do you think? Six, eight, maybe twelve times since I arrived?’

      ‘About six, I think, Sir,’ I said.

      Max laughed. ‘Maybe I should add another stroke for lying? We both know that it’s closer to twelve. Let’s split the difference, shall we? Let’s call it ten. I’m going to flog you, Sarah. And I want you to the count the strokes for me.’

      I stiffened, but managed to avoid the possibility of earning myself another stroke by – for once – holding my tongue. Max draped the fronds of the flogger over my shoulder again and drew them across my skin, more slowly this time. They were soft, cool, practically a caress. I shivered.

      ‘Feel good?’ he said.

      ‘Yes, Sir,’ I whispered. They felt like silk. They set my nerves tingling. So good. So very soft. I closed my eyes. In my books I had imagined this moment a hundred times.

      ‘Let go. I won’t do anything to you that you don’t want or can’t cope with, and you always have the safe words – remember that. Let me show you what you’re capable of loving …’

      I shivered, lulled by his voice, soft, warm and dark.

      ‘Come with me.’ It was an invitation to surrender. Some part of me understood what he wanted but I wasn’t sure that I could, or that I was ready. How do you learn to let go and lose yourself in sensation? There was a split second when I was aware of the narrow suede leather strips sliding away and an instant later a stinging, stunning, white-hot crackle of leather across my back. The tails of the flogger wrapped around me so that the very end of the thongs caught my ribs and breast. The feeling took my breath away.

      ‘If you don’t count them, then the strokes don’t count either,’ Max said, as the flogger landed for a second time.

      ‘Two, Sir,’ I gasped, every cell, every fibre of my body awakened by the flogger’s kiss.

      The leather strips found their mark again.

      ‘Three,’ I hissed.

      The suede thongs that had felt so smooth and so very soft when stroked over my back grazed into my skin like hot fingers. I could hear them moving through the air an instant before feeling them hit home, and between strokes I could hear Max breathing from the effort of using the flogger, as my skin grew hot and tingled.

      I heard the swish of the tails again and closed my eyes.

      ‘Four.’ The expectation and the sensation were building with every stroke, a rush of endorphins cascading, intense and all consuming, and blowing away all thoughts; everything was gone but the here and now, the feel of the flogger, the sound of my ragged breathing, the count and the glowing heat of each stroke as it rolled through me.

      ‘Five,’ I cried out. Tingling all over now, my skin feeling as if it was glowing red hot, I was gasping, trying hard to retain my control.

      ‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘Let go. I’m here …’

      ‘Six.’ I am losing myself in pain. All there is is the sound of my voice and the explosive sensation of the flogger, and I know I can call a halt but I don’t want to, I don’t – and then Max hits me again, leather and heat, crackling, rippling through my nerve endings.

      ‘Seven.’ The word is a gasp. I am being sucked under by the flogger’s kiss but I’m nearly home now. Just three more strokes …

      ‘Eight.’ The stroke is harder still, I think, but I can’t gauge it, I’m so lost inside what I am feeling. I am sobbing for breath and for him to stop, but I don’t say the safe words. I feel a great rush of euphoria.

      ‘Nine’ – I am almost done.

      ‘Ten,’ and my knees buckle and Max is there to catch me.

      ‘Good girl,’ he murmurs. ‘Good girl.’ Now his lips are on my neck and shoulders, scattering feathery kisses that light beacons in my mind. His fingers find my breasts, and he is teasing the nipples, twisting and tugging, and I feel the great surge of desire I felt earlier rekindle. I’m trembling as he guides me to a side table and lifts me up onto it, pressing me down onto the cool solid wood so that my back, red hot, striped and alight with sensations, slides down onto the cold shiny surface.

      The chill is a stark contrast to the heat from the welts, but before I can surrender to the coolness Max spreads my legs and stands between them, leaning over me, stroking my shoulders and breasts, touching, СКАЧАТЬ