She made no move to leave. Through the gag, she made little moans of pleasure, moans that grew louder as the crop replaced my mouth. Steady strokes followed – firmer on her breast, softer on her nipple. Just the one breast for now.
I wasn’t hitting her hard. Her skin grew pink and then a faint red, but these marks would fade in a few hours, exactly as she’d requested. These taps were meant to turn her on, not to punish her - and they were working. I could smell her arousal, I could feel her need.
My cock ached. “Patience,” I said aloud. I was reminding myself as much as I was talking to her, and she knew it. Her eyes twinkled with amusement and I chuckled. “Yes, cherie, I have to hold myself back. But it’s for a good cause.”
She inclined her hips towards me, clearly urging me to abandon control and just fuck her. My lips twitched. Her impatience matched mine, her need just as great. But waiting would make it better for both of us.
I moved the crop to her other breast, tapping her until that globe pinkened as well. Her chest was rising and falling, her legs moving restlessly as she writhed with pleasure.
***
Ellie / Jenny:
I couldn’t understand why I’d ever been afraid of him.
He moved behind me with the crop. I resisted the urge to turn and watch him, and my patience was rewarded as his hands encircled me from behind. His fingers roamed over my naked body, tweaking my nipples and squeezing my breasts. Each touch made me gasp, the noise a muffled sound through my gag.
Sharp spikes of lust shot from the spots where his fingers met my flesh, radiating outward all through my body. Each tug of his finger pulled at something lower, as if there was an invisible line connecting my nipples and my clitoris. Heat pooled in me, need and want and longing all wrapped up in his touch, in the way he sounded, in the way he moved, in the way he controlled me.
My body felt heavy. My thoughts receded and my world narrowed to this. To his calloused fingers pinching my dusky-red nipples. To the slight coarseness of the wooden pillar against which I leaned.
His mouth dipped to the spot where my shoulder met my neck and he nipped. My knees almost buckled in response to that touch. It didn’t seem possible that my body could feel so much and so deeply. “Alexander,” I groaned through the gag.
“Sir,” he corrected. His voice sounded amused. “I would have thought the crop would have made it obvious that we were in a session.”
“Sir,” I exhaled. Sir in a session, Alexander outside a session. He’d said that to me in Bangkok and when I got it wrong, he’d set me in front of a mirror and had watched me masturbate until I came, shaking like a leaf, combusting with the force of my orgasm. At that moment, I should have known that in these games of dominance and submission, I could trust him completely.
The other secrets he kept? For the moment, everything else seemed far away.
I wanted to sob with frustrated, painful need. If he didn’t move his hands lower, if he didn’t slide a finger between my folds, I would combust. Like a short-lived meteor, I would burn up and die.
“So impatient,” he rebuked. “Do you know that each gasp only makes me want to hear the next one, ma petite? Each moan makes me slow down so I can hear you cry out. I want you calling out my name. Begging me to let you come.”
Oh, I was ready to beg. It wasn’t the gag in my mouth that kept me quiet. I’d surrendered control to Alexander. If my Dominant wanted me to come, he would let me. If he wanted me to wait, I would wait.
The more control I gave him, the more pleasure he would make sure I had. I had absorbed this lesson in my weeks as Alexander’s submissive and this knowledge filled me with a strange security.
I could jump and I wouldn’t fall. Alexander would catch me.
Alexander looked around the barn and his lips curved into a wicked grin. He inclined his head towards the table in the corner. It was waist-high and sturdy-looking. “Come, Jenny,” he said. He took off his shirt quickly and set it down on the dusty surface, then patted the spot. “Sit.”
His hands curled around my waist and hoisted me up and I squealed a little at the unexpected touch. A warmth bloomed in my heart that had nothing to do with the fire smouldering in my *. When he carried me, I felt safe and protected. I wanted to lean my head against his strong shoulder and rest there for a while.
I also was very, very aroused by the way he’d played with my breasts. I told myself sternly to focus on the lust. It was safer.
“What are you thinking about, Jenny?” His voice was so polite. Too polite. Dangerously so. Damn it, he had noticed my moment of distraction.
I gulped. “I’m sorry,” I tried to say through the gag.
“Do I need to convince you to pay attention, Jenny?” he asked. His eyes flashed with an amused heat that I had grown to recognize. Crap. I’d screwed up. If I’d been hoping he’d let me come quickly, that scenario had just flown out of the window.