VelvetWhip (3 page)

“Please, Master.” Her voice was raw. It would be sheer
cruelty to leave her in this state.

“Hold on then,” he told her, rising. He reached up and
worked her grip free of the hook so he could slip the cuffs over her wrists. He
didn’t fasten them, didn’t mess with the loose binding of scarlet silk either.
He did wrap her hands firmly around the chains holding the cuffs in place. It
would give her something to pull on if she needed to, and having the leather
wrapped around her wrists, even unfastened, would give her some support if her
knees went weak. He had every intention of making her knees go weak before he
was done.

There was a low murmur from the audience when he went back
to his place on the stage and once again uncoiled his whip. They knew as well
as he did that most submissives would be done for the night at this point. He
had her repeat her safe words as much to reassure them as to check on her.

He gave Wicked a nod and the music, which had been playing
at a slightly lower volume, rose to fill the room again.

Stephen began working with almost methodical precision,
painting fire across the center of Ginger’s back with absolute focus as
everything, everyone, in the room except his submissive faded from his
consciousness. He was aroused, cock a throbbing brand against the fly of his
pants, but even that seemed distant. The only thing real to him was the crack
of the whip and the red streaking Ginger’s creamy skin.

She was moving still, more urgently now. Using her grip on
the cuffs, she’d pulled herself up, stretching on her toes against the whipping
post. He continued, strokes slowing, drawing the pleasure and pain out, trying
to give her as long as she needed without damaging her or crossing any of her
limits.

She responded beautifully, as she had to everything else so
far. One leg wrapped around the post, curving her back gently even as she
ground her pussy against the whipping post with no gentleness at all. She
shuddered, and he thought she might have come, but that was okay. He hadn’t
told her not to. And she was so gorgeous this way, grinding against the post
gracelessly, back rippling with each motion, body jerking with each crack of
the whip.

His arm was burning, shoulder on fire. He practiced
regularly, but even an hour daily of practice was nothing compared to half an
hour with a submissive. The tension, the electric connection between them,
wound his muscles tight. The energy in the room washed over him, energizing him
even as it ramped his tension higher.

Another glance in Wicked’s direction and the music segued
into something slower, less intense. Keeping in time with the music’s
downbeats, he slowed and lightened his strokes, until he’d stopped entirely.

Moving quickly now, he wound the whip around his hand and
elbow before clipping it to his belt. In seconds he was pressed close to
Ginger, hands wrapped over hers, blanketing her shuddering body with his.

“Shhh…” He knew she wouldn’t hear him, not his words,
anyway. She was lost in subspace, that alternate reality where pain and
pleasure blurred and lifted a submissive out of their body, sending them
flying. In a good scene, something similar happened to him, transporting him to
a place of pure power and emotion. This had been a
very
good scene.

Ginger pressed back hard against him, and he knew the
barbells in his nipples were digging into skin left raw by his whip. Either she
wasn’t feeling it, or her body was processing it as pleasure, because she kept
pushing harder, writhing in his embrace, looking for more and more contact.

Stephen continued to hold her, murmuring low words of praise
and making soft sounds of approval. “So beautiful, pet. So perfect.” She might
not be processing the words, but he knew the meaning would penetrate the cloud
of endorphins she was floating on.

When her shudders had calmed to occasional tremors, he ran
his hands up her arms to where the cuffs wrapped loosely around her wrists. He
was a little bit amazed, and more than a little impressed, that even as her
body had trembled uncontrollably, Ginger had kept her feet, had kept her grip
on the hook. Now it was just a matter of slipping her hands free of the cuffs
and tugging the sash free of the hook.

Releasing her from the bindings, as symbolic as they’d been,
had the same effect as flipping a switch. Stephen felt the change in the
tension flowing through Ginger’s body just in time to shift, catching her in
his arms as she went limp against him.

The first thing Ginger focused on was the light herbal scent
of aloe. The second was the cool drag of a damp cloth and the warm stroke of
Stephen’s hands over her back.

Then she felt the pain.

Oh God.

Each place the whip had touched her sparked and flared with
flame-tipped electricity, and each spark echoed in her nipples and clit. When
Stephen’s hands, slick now with soothing aloe gel but still so warm, spread
over her shoulders, it was all she could do not to squirm against the thick
cushion of the massage-type table he’d laid her on.

Aloe. Table. Lack of music and absence of the murmuring
crowd. They’d moved to a private room while she was flying, she realized. A
little whimper escaped. She wasn’t ready for them to be done yet.

“Hush, pet.” His voice stroked her as surely as his hands,
and Ginger found herself obeying, relaxing into his touch. “Are you back with
me now?”

“Hmmm.” Forming actual words was harder than she expected.
She’d flown before, of course. It was kind of the point of being a masochist,
wasn’t it? That out-of-body bliss? But she didn’t think she’d ever gone so high
so fast. And while Stephen was keeping her from crashing, her return to reality
was still a little bit jarring.

He seemed to sense what she needed, and went back to his
gentle stroking. The aloe would take a lot of the sting out of the lash marks,
she knew, and would speed the healing process. Even if he hadn’t broken the
skin—and she was totally confident that he hadn’t, the man was a master with
his chosen instrument—there would be abrasions that would last for days.

She shivered. Days of feeling the pull of tender skin to
remind her of her Master’s touch.

“Thank you, Sir,” she finally managed to mumble into the
soft cotton under her cheek. “So, so good.”

That got her a gentle touch over the small of her back,
which lengthened into a sweeping caress over the curves of her ass. When she
hummed again, pressing unconsciously into the touch, he rewarded her by cupping
the cheeks with firm hands, massaging the soft flesh and, when she squirmed,
squeezing and separating the globes.

She sighed as his hands moved down her thighs and back up to
the small of her back. Her throbbing back echoed the throbbing in her clit. Every
twinge of pain went straight to her pussy. She was tired. She shouldn’t be
thinking about sex, but she was. She wondered how it would feel to have this
gorgeous man take her so soon after her whipping.

“Let’s get you to the bed, pet. You’ll be more comfortable
there.” She sat up and he helped her off the table. He held her elbow lightly
as he steered her toward the rather large bed.

She moaned as she lay down on her tummy. The sheets were
downy soft and cool against her heated skin. He sat next to her and squeezed
some more aloe gel onto her back.

“That feels so good, Master,” she whispered. He slowly
worked the gel into the skin of her lower back, then up to her right shoulder
and back down to her thighs. Every time his finger traced over the welts and
abrasions it felt like someone was licking her clit. The pull was so
powerful—she’d never gone to this kind of place before. She was floating on the
edge where pain bled into pleasure. Stephen’s touch was magical and he played
her body like a fine instrument.

“I’m going to shower. I’ll only be a few minutes. I want you
to close your eyes and rest.” His simple command made her smile.

“Yes, Master.” She wanted to say more but she couldn’t even
manage to open her eyes. She didn’t want this night to end, didn’t want reality
to interrupt them. If she left her eyes shut she could remember every touch,
every strike and every crack of his whip. It should be illegal to feel such
overwhelming pleasure but here she was, lying on his bed. He’d been so careful
with his movements and with her body. He’d stayed away from her tattoo as she’d
asked.

She’d done scenes with selfish Doms before who hadn’t taken
her concerns seriously. She’d learned quickly how to recognize them and steered
clear of them in the club. Master Stephen was a perfect mix of demanding and
kind man. She’d fallen under his spell like a lot of the subs at the club had.
He was extremely popular and now she understood why.

He brushed his lips against her temple. “I’ll be back soon.”

* * * * *

The shower stopped while the steam from it poured from
beneath the door. Ginger was still in a hazy fog from her session with Master
Stephen and his excellent aftercare. Her body had a delicious ache and her back
still felt the sting of his whip.

He truly was the best at what he did. Every single stroke
he’d given her had been precise and meaningful. Never before had she sunk so
deep into her subspace. She’d forgotten all about the audience, her sole focus
had been on the pain that bled into sweet pleasure.

The door to the bathroom opened and he walked out in nothing
but a white towel draped low on his hips.

Absently she licked her lips as he approached the bed. He
knelt in front of her prone position.

“I don’t want this night to end,” he stated flatly.

Her body began to tingle. “I don’t want that either.”

“Good,” he said, standing up and holding out his hand for
her. “The same rules apply—are you in agreement?”

“Yes, Master,” she said, coming to a standing position.

“Present yourself to me.”

She spread her legs slightly apart, hands clasped behind her
back and eyes cast down to the thick carpet.

He circled her, stopping at her back. He ran his finger
along one of the welts marking her back, eliciting a shiver. He was electric;
touching her was like setting off a charge to her system.

Her fog lifted as he stroked her again. He kept tracing the
abrasions on her back. Each caress was kindle to the flame of her desire.

“Bend over, take off your panties and stay in that
position,” he commanded.

She did as he bade and stepped out of her underwear. She
bent at the waist and placed her hands on her knees with her ass in the air.

“That’s beautiful, pet,” he cooed before he slipped his hand
between her thighs.

She hissed as he found her clit ring and tugged it slightly,
the sensation zipping through her body. She felt it from her head down to her
toes.

He left her for a brief moment. She could hear him opening
up the large wardrobe housed against the wall. A drawer opened and items were
removed, though she couldn’t tell what he had in store for her.

She felt his heat the second he was behind her again. She
chanced a look over her shoulder and was met with cold blue eyes.

“I never said you could move.” He sighed. “You will be
punished for disobeying me.”

She quivered as she imagined what his punishment might
involve. His thumb pressed against her ass. It was cold as he spread some lube
along the tight pucker. Next he pressed an anal plug against her, moving his
other hand back between her thighs.

He pulled the ring again and this time his thumb slid
between her full lower lips and into her swollen pussy. His thumb moved inside,
teasing her. He was so damn perfect. From his citrus scent to his beautiful
blue eyes to his magic fingers. She didn’t think she’d ever get enough of him.

Spreading her ass cheeks apart, he slowly pushed the plug
into her ass.

“I want you to relax. Let out a deep breath and push back.”
She exhaled and moaned as he pushed slowly past the tight ring of muscles until
her body gave way and accepted the plug.

His fingers manipulated her clit in an exquisite dance of
pleasure. She found herself pushing back against his hand, wanting him to take
his touch deeper.

“I didn’t tell you that you could move,” he reprimanded
again. “You’re racking up punishments. I think you’re doing this on purpose.”

She was undaunted by his words. “It feels good.”

He immediately removed his hand, leaving her bereft of his
touch.

“I don’t want you to move until I tell you that you can. Do
you understand me, pet?”

“Yes, Master.”

He picked up another object and, when he ran it lightly over
her skin, she recognized the smooth leather cover of a paddle. “I want you to
count off ten.”

One hand went to her clit and started rubbing. When she
began to squirm, he smacked her bottom with the paddle.

“Count,” he murmured spanking her again.

“One.” Blood rushed to her ass.

He brought his hand down again. “Two,” she said a little
louder as the sound the paddle made against her tender flesh echoed throughout
the room.

He brought it down again on the right side of her ass.
“Three.”

Then to the opposite cheek. “Four.”

She wished they were in front of a mirror so she could see
his face. “Five.” She jumped as he swatted her harder.

He yanked the clit ring, causing her to grunt. “Six,” she
cried as her ass began to sting.

“Seven.” The leather-bound instrument made contact yet
again.

“Eight.” This time she squealed. Sweet lovely pain swept
through her bottom and spread out across the rest of her body.

“Nine.” Her entire body was now experiencing his domination
as he moved to one thigh.

“Ten.” He hit her other thigh and she held back the tears.
If he touched her clit one more time, she’d come.

He took his hand away. “You want to come, don’t you?”

“Yes, Master.” Man, did she ever!

“You can’t.”

She whimpered at being denied the very thing she wanted
most. Release was not to be hers, at least not yet.

“As you wish,” she whispered.

“Good, now on your knees.”

She complied, falling to her knees. The carpet cushioned her
position. He moved to the front of her and removed the towel. His cock sprang
out, hard and thick, and her mouth watered.

He was rigid with a full mushroomed crown. She felt a little
dizzy at the sheer size of him.

He grabbed the base and guided the tip to her lips. “Show me
what you can do with that sinful mouth.”

She was determined to give him the best blowjob of her life.
She couldn’t wipe the smile from her face as she leaned forward and rubbed her
cheek along his shaft. Paying homage to his beautiful body.

She turned her head, running her lips up one side and down
the other. She kept the pace painstakingly slow, wanting him to feel the same
kind of wonderful torture he’d given to her.

Grasping the base, she ran her tongue around his head and
captured a small bead of pre-cum. He tasted salty and sweet at the same time
and she wanted more.

She pulled her hand upward as her mouth pressed down.
Carefully she took him in, inch by inch. She was forced to relax her jaw to
take in his girth. He hit the back of her throat and she swallowed, forcing a
groan from him.

With her other hand she cupped his balls. The sac was drawn
tight to his body. She felt powerful. That was the only word for it. Every move
of her lips and tongue drew him closer to the edge and she was the one in
control now.

Her compliance would bring him more pleasure than he could
stand and she loved it. A thick, heavy vein ran along the underside of him and
she planted her tongue over the path it made, sliding farther down until her
lips met her hand.

Pulling back up, she licked his thick mushroom head like an
ice-cream cone. Sucking lightly, teasing the bundle of nerves underneath.
Flicking her tongue, she elicited yet another moan from him.

Wrapping both hands around his sex, she pumped him up and
down in her tight grip. She bent slightly and ran her lips along his balls.
Licking the tight sac over and over. Eventually pulling one ball into her mouth
and gently sucking on it.

He hissed and tangled his hands in her hair, pulling just
enough that she felt it in her pussy.

She pumped him in earnest, determined to make him buckle
beneath her caresses. She took him back into the deep recesses of her throat.
Saliva filled her mouth and she lubricated his dick with it.

She sucked him in and out, her lips meeting her hands. He
thrust his hips forward helping her along that way.

“Your mouth is incredible, pet. Suck me harder.” His order
came out on a groan and spurned her on. Sucking him harder and deeper than
she’d ever sucked a man before. Everything with him was a new experience. Sure,
she’d gone down on men, but never like this. She wanted to crawl inside him and
experience every emotion, every sensation with him. Was he as blown away as she
was?

She liked what she was doing to his body but she wanted to
do more. She wanted him to be a slave to her mouth the same way she wanted to
be a slave to his body. She imagined what it would be like to fuck him in
public. She was an exhibitionist and knew it would be hot to play dirty little
games out in the world.

Sex with him would never be boring. She had tonight to prove
to him that he needed her, and that she could please him better than any other
woman.

The caress of her tongue became bolder, more confident as
she swept it along his sac and back up to his crown. She learned every inch of
his dick, tracing the vein from root to tip.

“Enough,” he said and she immediately let him go. He
appeared to be a bit disoriented and she loved it. It meant he was as shaken up
by the sparks they created as she was.

“Stand,” he said as he helped pull her to her feet. He
reached over to the bed and grabbed a set of nipple clamps. She quivered as he
brought the jewelry around the front of her.

Boldly, as though she really belonged to him, he reached out
and pinched her left nipple. Teasing and tugging until it was tight and
puckered. Each tug echoed pleasure in her pussy. She was soaked, her thighs
were wet. It was a new experience for her. To be a puddle in the hands of a man
she hadn’t even fucked yet.