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"Liar."
Sarani stepped up real close to me. Her scent was intoxicating, all leather and sweat and something else, something unmistakably her. She ran the end of the belt down between my breasts, over my belly, avoiding my cunt to caress the inside of my thighs. I might have whimpered. I couldn't figure out whether to pull back or arch towards her.
"I'm going to hurt you." The belt moved up again, tickling my side, my ribs, the sensitive skin underneath my arms. I swallowed thickly. The metal bars were getting slippery under my sweaty palms. "You may scream. If you want to. But I'd rather you didn't. Show me how tough you are, why don't you?" She took a step back, coiling the belt around her hand. "Now. Beg."
I begged. She made as if she wasn't even listening, absently running her fingers over the leather as she examined my body. So I just kept right on, telling her everything I thought she might want to hear, pretty as please, how much I wanted it, needed it, how good I'd be, how I'd make it worth her while, oh, yes, ma'am, I would.
The first lash cut me off mid-sentence as it hit me hard across my thighs. It was sharp, vicious and without pleasure, and suddenly I believed every word about her hurting me, and I mean hurting, for real. I clutched the bed frames hard to keep from screaming, throwing my head back and clenching my teeth.
For the second lash, she made me wait until the tension was so thick I almost cracked under it. I could hear my own ragged breaths, taste the acid fear in my mouth. Every time she shifted, I winced. When it finally came it felt like mercy, and then the strokes fell on me like soft summer rain, light and rapid, making my skin tingle.
I might have laughed. I might have cursed her. The intensity picked up, harder, faster, and then I was floating, falling, out of my body and out of myself. It was glorious, every blow pushing me higher, further, my head spinning.
The slap across my face came out of nowhere. Wasn't hard, as such things go. The room shifted back into focus, the beds, me, Sarani. It hit me like a bucket of icy water over my head, and something cracked somewhere. Don't know how to describe it. Felt like a fucking switch being thrown in my head; one moment everything was bliss and glory, and then I was crying like a fucking baby, having never felt so lost and so miserable.
Sarani, the bitch, just tilted her head and looked at me with that self-satisfied little smirk on her lips, the unspoken "told you so" thick in the air between us.
So I hit her.
Or actually, I tried to hit her. She caught my wrist easily enough, and instead of shoving me away she pulled me into a rough embrace, pressing me towards her, rocking me and murmuring nonsense in my ear. Just made the crying worse, I can tell you that.
I don't know how long we stood like that, her hugging me towards her, me fighting to hit her and fighting to get away and fighting to hold on and calling her all kinds of vicious names, cursing her in every single way I'd ever heard and some that I probably made up on the spot and wouldn't repeat now if my life depended on it.
Eventually I stopped crying. There was this strange calm, that lasted for all about ten seconds, until I remembered where I was, and with whom, and what a fool I'd made of myself.
I began to pull away, opening my mouth to apologize.
"No," Sarani said, her voice gentle, but leaving no doubt as to who was in charge here.
"I don't-"
She pushed me back far enough to look at me, grabbing my chin and forcing me to meet her gaze. "You want to safeword out of it?"
It's funny how the body works. Two seconds earlier, hot kinky sex had been the furthest thing from my mind, but with one simple question she made it all come back to me. Like some damned quick-start button. I felt my body respond, instantly, to the threat and the challenge.
I looked at her hands. At the belt on the floor. Then into her eyes again, and realized there was no way, no way I was going to let her win this thing, no way I was going to be the one to call quits. I hadn't even got to taste her. I wanted to taste her so bad I could feel it in my mouth.
"No, ma'am," I said, a little hoarser than I would have wanted.
"That means you do what I say." She stood up. I began to join her but she pointed at the floor and said: "Stay."
God, I wish it didn't turn me on like it did. So I stayed on the floor like a well-trained dog and watched as she pulled her tank top over her head and tossed it on the bed. Underneath she wore a plain black sports bra that flattened her chest, making it look almost boyish. She reached for the fly of her worn blue jeans, then paused and looked at me.
"Would you like to show me how good you can be?"
I nodded.
"You know what I want from you. Don't make me repeat myself."
"Yes, ma'am. Please, ma'am. I'd like to. Please."
"All right." She crossed her hands over her chest. "Take off my shoes."
I noticed my hands were shaking as I loosened the laces. She lifted her feet, one at a time, and I pulled off the shoes as gently as I could, blushing as I remembered how I'd been down here just a little while ago, licking them at her orders.
If the guys ever learned about this, I'd never live it down.
"Put your hands on your back."
