He returned to stand in front of her and set the crop on the table nearby. Alana sagged with relief. It was nearly over.
He took her head between his hands and kissed her, his tongue moving in slow, sensual circles in her mouth and over her lips as he gently cradled her breasts and brushed her tender nipples with his thumbs.
Just as she was relaxing into the pleasure of his touch, he took a step back and reached for the crop once more. This time, he whipped it up sharply between her spread legs, the small square of leather making direct contact on her spread pussy.
Alana howled with pain.
He struck her again and again, until the tortured flesh began to numb. Then it began to happen. That thing—that secret, private thing she didn’t understand, didn’t know how to bring on, but which sometimes happened just when she didn’t think she could take another stroke of pain.
It wasn’t that he would stop what he was doing, but somehow her body began to process it differently. The pain shifted—not precisely into pleasure, but into something equally, if not more, powerful. When this happened, all panic and fear would ebb away, replaced by a deep, welcome sense of peace.
As he continued to strike her exposed, tender cunt, the peace settled over her like a warm, blanket, and she closed her eyes and let it take her…
“Yes, that’s it, slave girl. That’s it, my love. Surrender to the pain. Surrender to me.” His voice was muted beneath the deep, slow pulse of her blood in her ears, but she sensed the praise in his voice, and she smiled.
The Master was pleased. That was good…
Then she felt his fingers stroking like velvet over her bruised labia and in circles around her swollen clit. Oh god, it felt good… so good…
“Please, Sir,” she managed to whisper. “May I come?”
“Yes,” he consented.
She did.
After rest and dinner, he brought her back to the dungeon. He was wearing a pair of black jeans, his large, thick cock already bulging beneath the denim, his muscular chest bare. He pointed his finger imperiously to the floor, and Alana lowered herself to her knees.
To her surprise, instead of telling her what he intended to do to her, he asked her. “Alana. What am I going to do to you tonight? What did I prepare you for earlier today?”
She had to think a moment, Then she remembered—all too well. She took a deep breath and let it out. “You are going to fuck me in the ass, Sir.” Her sphincter muscles clenched and she bit her lower lip. The anal plug was one thing, but his cock was huge.
He smiled that cruel smile that always promised pain. “That’s correct. I’m going to fuck you in that lovely, tight ass of yours. And what’s more, you are going to beg me to do it, aren’t you?”
There was only one answer to the question that wasn’t really a question, but a command.
Alana licked her dry lips. “Yes Sir,” she whispered, heat washing over her cheeks.
“Do it now. Beg me.”
Alana worried her lower lip again as she forced herself to form the words. They were just words. Just words. “Please, Sir,” she managed. “Please fuck your slave girl in the ass.”
He smiled again, perfect white teeth in that handsome, cruel face. “It would be my pleasure, cunt.” He unzipped his fly and pushed his jeans down his muscular legs. “But first, you’ll suck my cock.”
Alana leaned up dutifully, glad for this momentary reprieve. She had learned through daily practice to take her Master’s cock deep into her throat. Sometimes he pushed it in so deep she couldn’t breathe. He would hold her that way for ten, twenty, thirty seconds, sometimes longer. She never struggled anymore, never tried to pull away. In an odd way, she had come to welcome those little breaks from life, as she thought of them, especially when he held her so long that her mind shut itself down and she drifted…drifted…
She was returned to reality as he pulled his cock from her mouth and said, his voice hoarse with lust, “Get down on the mat, forehead on the floor, ass in the air. Reach back and spread your cheeks. I’m going to lube your virgin hole and fuck you. You will keep your ass cheeks spread until I slap your hands away. Got it?”
“Yes, Sir.” Alana’s heart had begun to beat too fast, a pulse ticking in her throat. She’d never, ever let any man near her ass, but then, Mark wasn’t any man. He was her Master. She had no choice…
She positioned herself as ordered on the thick yoga mat and reached back to spread her cheeks, her face flaming. She heard him moving behind her, and a moment later, the cold shock of lubricant being smeared over her puckered hole.