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He pulled my arms forward locking my elbows back into place. On and on, he toyed with me. Reprimanding me when my arms sagged or when I moved fractionally.
“Six,” his count continued.
“Please, sir! My arms!” I pleaded.
“I didn’t tell you to speak!” he said quietly. “Nearly there. Just a little while longer,” his voice tormented me.
After an eternity, he stopped and took the ball out of my hands. For a couple of minutes he massaged my shoulders. “Not bad. I’ve seen far worse. Squirming little subs with no discipline. Seven in total. In the past I would have inflicted seven little stabs with one of my electric wands.”
I blanched at the mention of the punishment.
He patted my sore bottom. “Don’t worry. I know it’s a hard limit for you. Out of interest, why?” Jason always seemed curious about my thresholds and limits.
“I had a great uncle, an electrician. He killed himself in an accident. Electrocuted. I don’t remember him much, but I suppose I have a fear of electricity.” I remembered my mum crying when she had been told the news. I was probably five or six years old.
“Fair enough. You would have thought he would know better,” said Jason drolly.
“I don’t think they were as well trained back then,” I suggested.
“Well, speaking of training. Your punishment. How about rubber bands on the soles of your feet?” He headed towards a drawer.
What! I tried to imagine what they might feel like, pinging against my tender flesh. I found out all about rubber bands. They were painful and definitely a punishment that must mirror the shock of an electric prod. He put two bands over my right foot and drawing back the elastic, pinged my sole with the stretched rubber. I screamed at each of the seven twangs and acknowledged it was a very effective and eye watering discipline.
“What do you think of fidgeting now, Gemma?” he asked removing the bands from my foot.
“I’m going to try harder to be very still for you, sir,” and I meant it.
I stood listening to what he doing behind my back. I heard chains rattling and something dropped down from grill attached the ceiling. The little exercise was over and the serious play was about to start.
“Step back, hands above your head,” Jason spoke with that clear, crisp dominating voice.
The master’s voice, it sounded natural and part of him. I did as he asked and waited patiently as he strapped cuffs to my wrists pulling my arms up high. I was stretched but not suspended in any way. He checked that my shoulders were lose and not pulled taut.
“I’m going to blindfold you, nothing rough tonight, you can come whenever you like.”
He stroked my breasts with his hands and I gasped, relishing the thought of such freedom. My vision denied I was left using my other senses. Something tickled me, first on my arms then my shoulders and then across my thighs. Breasts were next and I arched my back and wriggled around as he teased me. It felt almost like a feather duster and I guessed it was a super soft flogger. He draped it over my buttocks painlessly. Oh Jason, clever master, and generous master. Now and again, he stopped to squeeze my nipples or lick my clitoris, stimulating me further. I could not contain myself as he tickled the flogger between my legs and I came quickly, all of the tensions of Thursday washed away and the spasms rippled across my exposed body. As I came he released the corset lacing, allowing the constraining garment to drop away from me.
“You needed that didn’t you, baby.”
The flogger dropped to the floor. His breath was on my neck, his tongue on my nipples, his fingers probing me below. My senses were going crazy with lustful thoughts. Steadying my body, he kissed the soft skin on my belly, rubbing his nose against me.
“Umm, you smell delicious, Gemma. Very sexy desirous smell. I am going to fuck you now.”
“Thank you, sir,” I rasped.
Jason’s hand took my thigh pulling it up to his waist. With one hard thrust he speared me from below, pushing up to meet me. I squealed and wrapped my legs around him drawing him in deeper. Over and over he rose up into me, his tongue and lips caressed me as he moved. The inevitable climax was building inside me, desperate to be released. Crushing me almost to his chest Jason climaxed with a cry of, “Oh fuck!” As he eased back and relaxed his hips, I came too. Tears of sheer joy streamed down my face with the strength of the orgasm. For a few minutes we remained embraced, he took my blindfold away and undid the cuffs so my aching arms drop to my side. I flopped on to him and he took my weight easily.
“Tired? Let’s get you to bed.”
Pushing back the hair out of my face, he planted a kiss on each of my eyes.
Chapter 11
The next morning I awoke, later than usual and the daylight shimmered brightly across the spartan bedroom. Even the furniture was minimal and I missed the presence of a traditional dressing table with a mirror. Next to me, Jason was lying on his side, head propped up on his arm gazing at me.
“Hi,” he murmured.
The sheet covered his lower body and I know he was expecting his morning wake up fuck. My bum was better though still sore. I had an idea. I peeled back the sheet to see a ready and waiting erection. Sticking my tongue out, I manoeuvred across his reclined naked torso. My lips pressed down on his chest, kissing his tiny nipples. Downward my tongue licked, his skin tasted divine and scrummy. I reached his muscular groin and rolled my wet tongue around the soft, downy hair of his balls. My fingers twirled around the pubic curls and he shifted his weight and smiled as I opened my mouth to receive him. Lying there, he moaned softly, stroking the back of my head as I went about the business of pleasuring him.
