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The cane lands on my foot, then across my pussy. Just when I start to despair, he starts rubbing my clit again. It’s a beautiful ray of sunshine amid the storm of pain before returning to the bastinado. I hate the burst of pain exploding on the bottoms of my feet. He rains the crop relentlessly down on them. I’ll take a spanking over bastinado any day. My squeals and cries are loud even to my own ears. I flirt with the idea of using my safe word, but he pauses at that moment. Instead of landing the crop on my feet, he tickles me.
“Oh no, please don’t!” I cry between laughs.
I wiggle and strain against the chair. “Stop! Stop it!”
I’ve always been sensitive to tickling, but on my burning sensitized feet, this is too much.
“You want to go back to the bastinado?” he asks.
No. Yes. I don’t know.
My breath is all over the place, and I think I’m about to have the hiccups. Tears, which had pressed against my eyes during the cropping, start to fall.
He returns to spanking the soles of my feet with the cane. Part of me is relieved until the pain starts to build on itself. I whimper in between screams as my tears continue to fall. I can’t take much more of this. I’m going to have to use my safe word.
His sense of timing is crazy precise. Pausing the bastinado, he caresses my pussy lips and fondles my clit. I try my best to relish his touch, but I am partially distracted by the fear that he’ll go back to the bastinado or the tickling.
To dissuade him from going back to either of those, I ask, “Please, Sir, can I have your cock?”
He sees through me. “Not interested in going back to the bastinado, eh, princess?”
“I’m interested in your cock, Sir,” I insist.
“If you thank me for the bastinado, you can have cock.”
“Thank you, Sir. Thank you for the bastinado.”
From his duffel bag, he pulls out a long dildo and a vibrator. I want to cry out in joy, but I don’t want to jinx anything. He rubs the dildo along my folds and clit. Ooh, that feels so good. I want to be done with being upside down and tied in this position, but I want my orgasm.
Turning on the vibrator, he presses it to my clit. Yes! Then he slides the dildo into me. Double yes!
“Good sluts come on demand,” he says. “I’m going to count down from ten. Make sure you don’t come before then.”
Come on demand? Okay, I can do this. I just need to hold off on climaxing. How hard can that be?
He works the dildo in and out of me. My eyes roll toward the back of my head.
Damn, this feels good!
The pressure of the vibrator coupled with the vibrations sends me speeding toward my orgasm.
Wait! He hasn’t even started counting yet. I try to pretend like I don’t feel anything.
“Remember: you’re aiming for the count of one,” he tells me.
I concentrate on not feeling anything as he starts the count.
“Ten…”
I try to find something to fix my gaze on, using the advice given on how to better balance on one foot.
Nope. That doesn’t work.
“Nine...”
I close my eyes. Picture something gross, like…like…like what? Shit, this feels too good.
“Eight…”
