Sexy as Hell Box Set (87 page)

She was a natural teacher, my Zara, knew exactly how to make me get myself in the right frame of mind. I did as she’d suggested and closed my eyes. Listened to the other people’s breathing, the grunts, the filth that was coming out of the
bullwhipper’s mouth in rapid-fire Italian:
“Fucking dirty cunt. Yeah, you love this. You deserve this. And you can’t…touch me until…I’ve…whipped your arse so hard you can’t fucking stand for a week. You want to lick my pussy, don’t you. Oh, yes, you want to lick it, to bury your face in it. But you can’t. Not yet. Not until there are no whip marks…left. They’ll all merge into one colour, and God, I love that colour. Red, so red…”

Christ, just her words had me ready for action, wanting Zara to speak to me the same way, call me all the nasty names under the sun, showing me she was in charge and I was just some lowly man she needed to teach a lesson. The differences between my submissive and dominant side
s were vast—I was definitely a switch, no two ways about it.

I jerked my head, indicating I needed
Zara to come and stand beside me. She did, looking at me with a question in her eyes. I studied her mask, and it hit me that I had mine on, that these people here, they couldn’t see my face, they didn’t know me. If we were to walk past them tomorrow they wouldn’t have the faintest idea I’d shared this room with them—shared my orgasm.

Suddenly, I felt better, more confident that I could do this.

“Talk dirty to me,” I said.

“Ah, is that what she’s doing?” She turned to look at the woman with the bullwhip.

“Yes. And she reminds me of you. I want to hear your voice, not hers. I want to hear English, not Italian. I want it to just be me and you, no one else. Take me to that place.” My cock throbbed. “Quickly.”

I could take Victor to any place as quick as a snap of my finger and thumb if I wanted to. I knew how to work him, which road to take him on at any given time when it came to sex. I considered teasing him, drawing this out so he’d end up begging me to let him come, but I understood his urgency. The sounds and smells in here had me so wet, so aching for release that if I touched myself it would only take a few strokes and I’d be writhing in the throes of orgasm
even though I’d not long since enjoyed a ferocious one.

I nodded then glanced down at the square wooden stage the cross was mounted on. Just as I’d suspected, there was a drawer built into it, except instead of handles there were two three-inch holes drilled out of it. I knelt and pushed two fingers into one of them and curled them up, pulling the drawer out.

“What are you doing?” Victor asked.

I looked up. He couldn’t turn his head enough to see me down here.

“Selecting a toy.” I eyed the many instruments, all black. A package of wet wipes was tucked into one corner, and I snapped the lid up and took a few out. Picked up a cat-o’-nine-tails and began giving it a wash. I didn’t trust that the last person to use it had wiped it over.

“Where from? I didn’t see any when we came in.”

“A little drawer down here.” With the cat handle cleaned, I worked on the strands then dropped the wipes on the floor for now. After closing the drawer, I stood and tested the feel of the leather on my palm. The toy was well used so wouldn’t give him a bite he couldn’t handle.

“What are you going to use?”

“You’ll know when you feel it strike.” I stepped back a few paces and admired his shoulders for a moment, thinking to only hit him there but changed my mind. I moved forward to one-handedly undo his trousers, drawing them down a bit and wondering whether I should have secured his ankles to the cross as well. For his first time, I hadn’t wanted to bind him into a star shape, but now I wasn’t so sure. His and my safety was important—what if he kicked out? “Toe your shoes off. I need you to be naked.”

He hesitated for just a second before doing as I’d asked, then stepped out of his trousers. I pulled down his boxers, and once he stood in all his nude glory, I bent over to place the cat on the stage so I could get his legs into the correct position. As I secured one ankle I licked up his calf, smiling as he rewarded me with a full body shudder. My Victor, shit, how I loved him. I fed off his experience, letting the ripple of that shudder infuse me with longing, the need to get him to come in the company of others high on my list. And it would be something he could strike off his. Another milestone, another thing he never thought he
’d do, done and dusted.

With both his ankles in place, I rose and admired the swell of his bum, the way his sides tapered into his waist,
and the top of his arse crack. I ghosted one fingertip over it, tracing the Y indent, and he groaned quietly. His star-shape meant he was open to anything I decided to do, and I smiled wickedly as a flurry of thoughts went through my mind. I knelt, unable to resist dipping my head to lick his balls, then reaching around to pull his arse towards me, giving me enough room to curl my hand around his cock.

He was hard, more than ready, I’d say, the pulse of him retracting then relaxing his bollocks heaven on the tip of my tongue. I
wanked him, swift and sure strokes, opening my mouth wide to fit the bottom of one of his balls inside. I imagined how my breath felt, how my wet, swirling tongue felt, and my own wetness seeped out. My clit burned with my need for stimulation, but I’d deny myself until I’d done what I’d set out to do.

I let his cock go, took my mouth away, then stood, leaving him alone and possibly wondering when I was going to do something else. He had his eyes closed, and I thought about what I’d be seeing behind those lids if it were me in his place. I’d be teasing myself with waiting for the cat to strike, tense and alert, the anticipation better than the actual hit. I’d be imagining where Victor stood, what pose he’d adopted, and whether his breathing was laboured, his chest tight as his lungs filled and refused to let any air out. I wished I’d brought my bag of tricks so I could put a strap-on up his arse and flay his outer thigh as I pumped in and out of him. That would have been the ultimate test for him, his arse buggered while other men and women watched if they had a mind to do so.

He clenched his hands, and I knew he needed something, anything from me.

I picked up the cat and positioned myself side-on, arcing it through the air and hissing out a breath as the strands met with one of his arse cheeks. He jerked his pelvis forward, his cock press
ing hard against the wood, and he cursed under his breath, a stream of
fuck-shit-Christ-Almighty
that had me smiling. I hit him again and again, giving him no time in between to ponder on the next strike, then decided not to hit him at all. He’d need the time out, plus I wanted him in a high state of anticipation and arousal.

“I’m going to hit you again soon, you sexy bastard,” I said, prowling up and down behind him. “Hit you so hard your bollocks threaten to hide inside you. So hard you’ll shove your cock into that cross until it hurts. So hard that you’ll want to ram that throbbing dick of yours so far up my cunt the tip will be sitting in my throat.”

He gasped at my words. He’d wanted dirty talk…

“You like that, don’t you, me spewing filth?” My heart was beating so fast,
so
fast.

“Yes, Mistress,” he managed between gasps. “More. Please?”

“Oh, I’ll give you more. How about”—I gave him another forceful strike, across both cheeks this time—“you think on which part of me you want to get your hands on first.” Another strike. “Like my tits, you fingering my nipples until they’re hard, until I tell you to pinch them instead.” And another. “You know how much that turns me on. How that bite of pain zips right down to my cunt and makes me wetter. Makes me throb.”

I applied two more hits, harder than any of the others so far. He yelled an indecipherable word, and before the sound had tapered off into nothing, I whacked him once more.

“And my cunt, Victor. You love it, don’t you? How it grips your meaty cock, strangles it, forces you to let go and come inside me. It pulses, doesn’t it? Pulses and milks you.”

“Oh, Christ…” he breathed.

“Now, you know what I say about him…”

“Hurts. Burns.”

“Are you ready for more, Virgin?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

The ultimate test, this, me giving him more than he’d taken before, in a setting he’d probably never imagined he would be in. I glanced at the woman. She watched us, her smile languid, red lips slack and slightly wet where she ran her tongue across them, back and forth. Her eyes, peering through her mask, were glazed as though she saw with misty vision, her pleasure undoubtedly careening through her while she witnessed someone else’s.

“She’s watching you, Victor,” I said. “The woman next to you on the cross is watching you, licking her lips, possibly imagining running it up and down your cock.” I wasn’t sure whether that would kill his mood, knowing she was doing that. “How does that make you feel? Tell me.”

“Exposed,” he said. “Uncomfortable.”

“You’re uncomfortable that she might desire you?” Before he could answer, I went on. “Yet I’m here watching you, and I might well lick my lips—what’s the difference?”

“I only want you watching me. Only want you full stop.”

A lump swelled in my throat, but I wasn’t about to let it grow bigger, allowing emotions to crowd in, making me undo those bonds of his and cart him out of the room, going somewhere else so he could take a bit more of a whipping in private.

“Do you know how it makes
me
feel, Victor, knowing she’s staring at you? I feel alive, full of smugness that you’re mine—
mine
—and no matter how much she might stare, how much she might be wishing you’d stick your fat cock into her cunt, she can’t have you.”
Only I can. Me. Only me.

“Oh, Jesus fuck…” he shouted. “I love you, bloody love you.”

“And I”—
whack
—“love”—
whack
—“you.”

He pushed his pelvis off the cross, jutting his arse out, silently asking for more. I gave it, losing count after five strokes, and let myself slip into the zone—not so much that I wasn’t aware of his needs and when I must stop, but enough that I could find that nugget of peace that enveloped me and made me feel safe. I lessened the severity of the hits, the ends of the cat barely catching his skin, letting him have some respite while at the same time wondering when or if I would whack him hard again.

I stared into space, my actions automatic, and smiled at the fact he’d admitted to feeling uncomfortable that he was being watched yet had felt no embarrassment when he’d shouted his love for me. Had he wanted the world to know? I’d felt much the same as I’d responded, and as the words had left my mouth I’d had a freeing sensation that I’d finally, finally admitted to someone other than him that he was the man I adored.

Was I on the road to recovery?

Perhaps I would be wrong after all. Maybe he
could
fix me.

I sliced the flogger against his backside, a particularly hard, well placed hit.

“Amanda!” Victor shouted, back arching, head lolling. “Fucking hell. Amanda.”

I stopped immediately
at his safe word, dropping the cat and stepping up onto the stage, covering the back of his body with the front of mine. I grasped his cock and built up a fast up-and-down motion to take his focus from the pain flaring in his arse to the pleasure I was creating in his dick.

“Come for me,” I said. “Fucking come harder than you have before. Let it all melt away, every bit of this room. Go inside yourself and just imagine me and you like this, the only people on the planet, the only ones who matter. I’m going to make myself come at the same time as you, because, Victor, I’m so damn wet for you, so ready to go over the edge.”

“Zara…”

“I know. I know…Come. Go on, come.”

I shifted to the side slightly, dragged up my dress and pushed my bare pussy against his arse, bobbing up and down and getting friction in just the right spot. I was so damp I glided over his skin and held him closer for maximum abrasion. His cock throbbed, and I gripped his hip bone with my free hand, wanting to meld us together as one, never to be parted. I looked across at the woman, who widened her eyes before having the grace to turn her head the other way. Yes, she knew he was mine, my glare had seen to that. No one,
no one
could take him away from me. I wouldn’t allow it.

My orgasm burst then, spirals of pleasure seeming to reach every nerve, ripples of it coasting over my skin. I bunched m
y toes, rested my cheek to his back. The mask dug into my face, but I didn’t care. I closed my eyes, feeling the pulse of him as cum jetted out. His cry of ecstasy hummed through my skull, bouncing around inside my head until it was all I could hear. I spamsed, my slit on fire, my legs growing weak. We were a mess of pleasure, Victor and me, riding it out together, as I hoped we would with everything in our future.

I could admit it now. I wanted him. Loved him with all my heart. I couldn’t carry on the mad charade I’d been living. It was time to be myself, to accept his help, his adoration, and learn that I deserved it, that I
was
worthy.