Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 54651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Then came the sudden, sharp sting of the lash on her inner thigh. Alana screamed, caught completely unaware, though she shouldn’t have been. Hadn’t she learned all too well that with the pleasure must come the pain?
She retreated into herself as the lash rained across her flesh, the pain coiling like fire in her nerve endings. Finally, the whipping stopped. She was too dizzy and disoriented to even try to lift her head as she heard Mark move away. She just swayed, eyes closed, waiting for whatever came next.
When he returned, she felt the insistent nudge of something at her cunt. As it slid inside her, she felt the familiar, hard fullness of a vibrator, and she grunted as he pressed it deeper. He flicked a switch at the base and it whirred into life.
It pulsated and tickled inside of Alana’s pussy, vibrating her clit, instantly arousing her. Though these battery-induced orgasms were never as satisfying as his fingers, his mouth, his cock, nevertheless, they were relentless in their vibrating persistence, and it wasn’t long before she hovered on the edge of a climax.
“Please, Sir, may I—” she began breathlessly, but before she could complete the question, the vibrator was pulled from her body.
“No. Not yet.”
She forgot her frustration as the Master brought the cruel whip down on her bare, exposed sex. As it made searing contact with her clit, Alana screamed and begged for mercy. But there was none.
He whipped her cunt with ruthless strokes, and she couldn’t do a thing to stop him, held wide open by the leather and chains that suspended her. Pain exploded through her nerve endings, overloading her with sensation. She squeezed her eyes shut beneath the silk blindfold, whimpering and moaning as she struggled to take what he gave her, but it was too much—too much.
“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” she heard someone moaning, the sound distant to her own ears. The words faded away, replaced by a steady, rising ringing. Then the inky blackness came to claim her. With a relieved sigh, she stepped into its arms.
~*~
Mark dropped the lash and quickly lowered Alana to the floor. He released the chains from the cuffs and leaned over her, pulling the blindfold from her eyes.
“Alana?”
Remorse assailed him as he gazed at her swollen, red cunt. The trickle of blood at once repelled and excited him, and his cock was stiff with need.
He lightly slapped her face. “Alana, wake up. Open your eyes.”
Her lids fluttered open and she fixed him with a dilated, unfocused gaze. “Wha…?” she said, confusion etching her features.
“You passed out. That’s unacceptable,” Mark admonished. “It’s a way of running from me.”
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she mumbled, her words slurred. “I didn’t mean to run from you.”
He looked at her carefully. Was she merely parroting what she thought he wanted to hear?
He stroked her cheek and she turned her head to kiss his hand. He pulled it away, startled by this subservient, almost loving gesture.
The thick fringe of her lashes brushed her soft cheeks, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.
“Why are you crying?”
A silly question, as her poor cunt had to be on fire. But to his surprise, she said, “I’ve displeased you, Sir.” Another tear fell.
Shocked, Mark didn’t know what to say. He tilted her chin up and lightly kissed her soft lips. Was she sincere? That kiss, like a dog licking its master’s hand. And that tear—was it truly because she felt remorse and sorrow for having displeased him?
Something was different, that was for sure, though he didn’t yet understand completely what it was. Her behavior no longer seemed solely motivated by fear or avoidance of pain. Something else was happening between them. Something he felt but wasn’t ready to thoroughly examine.
It might disappear if he approached it, dissipating like a wisp of smoke if he got too close.
As the days passed, Alana continued in this newfound apparent devotion. Mark wanted to be happy—wasn’t this what he’d always dreamed of, from the moment he first hatched his plans? The transformation seemed genuine. She had become his dream girl—compliant, obedient, highly sexed and utterly focused on him. Could these things in their sum approximate love?
There was one area, however, where his slave lacked grace. She was still afraid of the cane. He had but to mention its use and her eyes would widen with fear, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to control her reaction.
As they lay in bed, Mark glanced down at the sleeping woman in his arms. His cock nudged against her warm body as he contemplated marking her ass with the new fiberglass cane he’d purchased online. At only an eighth of an inch thick, he knew it would provide a harsh sting. The business end was made of smooth white fiberglass. The handle was ribbed with rubber for a good grip. It was the middle of the night, but he couldn’t sleep, so why should she?