He did the same to the insides of her forearms, just below the wrist strap, but when he moved down to the softer skin on the inside of her upper arms she hissed and flinched away.
“Did that hurt?”
“N-no, Master.”
He knew his sub. She was lying, thinking that saying yes would displease him. Jensen went to the bag of toys and slipped the brush in, returning with a strange pink mitt, which he’d been told was a loofa. He fitted it over his hand, feeling the abrasive material against his palm. He started with her upper arms, stroking until the skin was pink. This time she frowned a little, but it was an expression of confusion rather than pain.
Moving down, he rubbed his hand in a circle over her belly, then along the crease at the top of each thigh where it met her torso. She wiggled a little when he did that. Finally he went to her breasts, cupping the upper swell with his free hand to hold the firm mounds in place as he stroked the underside.
When he was done, her eyes were half closed, and she was breathing softly. There were faint pink patches on her pale skin, and he had a moment of remorse. She was so beautiful it should be a crime to mark her. The only thing that had him going to the bag and pulling out the next item was the fact that he could see her sinking into the place she could only reach when he used and abused her far beyond the bounds of what society found acceptable.
She found peace in that place, and that peace passed through her to him.
Jensen took the piece of tweed fabric and wrapped it around his fingers.
Anna gasped as the rough cloth touched her thigh—it felt like burlap or cheap wool. Master Jensen raised his hand, showing her the fabric he held. It wasn’t burlap, but simple tweed—rough, but not nearly as rough as it felt.
“It feels…” She shook her head, feeling silly.
“Tell me,” he demanded.
“It feels like something much rougher.”
He switched to the other thigh. The muscles in her leg twitched in response.
“Do you like it?”
“I don’t know. It’s not arousing, I don’t think.” Anna laid her head back. It wasn’t a sexual touch, and yet it was sexual. After a moment of contemplation she realized why. “I like that you’re doing this to me. I like that you can make me feel things that don’t even make sense.”
He stroked her stomach and she tightened her core muscles in response. He worked his way around her, finishing with her breasts. The undersides were sensitive to begin with, and after only a few passes of the cloth she cried out.
“It’s too much, Master.”
Master Jensen dipped his fingers into her sex. Anna moaned in relief. This was a touch she knew and understood.
“You’re wet.”
“Yes, Master.”
He wiped his fingers on the fabric square and went to the bag. When he came back he was holding a simple white cotton ball. Anna signed in relief. Jensen traced a swirling pattern down her thigh.
“Master!” Anna felt it in every fiber of her body, her nerves lighting up as if he’d struck her with the crop.
He smiled, hazel eyes sparkling. “That good?”
“Yes, Master.”
Jensen worked over every inch of exposed skin. The difference in sensation when he moved between un-abraded and abraded skin made her gasp and shiver. The anticipation of the pleasure-pain and the inability to control or stop it had her dancing on the edge of a dark, delicious precipice.
When he reached her breasts, he bent and took a nipple into his mouth. Sucking hard, he lifted her breast, while tracing his fingers over the extra sensitive skin. Anna pulled against her restraints, leather creaking.
“You’re beautiful like this,” he whispered. “Fighting but enjoying.”
“Fuck me, Master. Fuck me, please.”
“Another night I might have, but we have work to do.”
Stepping back, he brought the cross upright, then undid her straps. He caught her as she stepped off and let her rest against his chest as she regained control of her arms and legs. He cupped her sex, lifting until his palm dug into her soft, wet flesh. She ground herself against him even as she kept her head burrowed against his shoulder.
He pushed her head up with a thumb under her chin. “Strip.”
Anna undid the garter belt, then rolled the stockings down and off, twisting her body as she did so to show off her ass and breasts. Hooking her thumbs in the garter belt, she worked it down her hips.
“Face down this time,” he demanded.
Anna bit her lip, then turned and obeyed, climbing back up onto St. Andrew’s cross.
Master Jensen strapped her upper body and arms in place, then tilted the table so she was flat with her belly and arms supported while her head and breasts dangled in the open space between the upper pieces. He adjusted the lower pieces of the table, bringing them together to form a “Y” rather than “X” shape.
“Pull your knees up. I want your ass in the air.”
When he was satisfied, he attached a strap over her calves and another over her ankles. The tops of her feet were pressed flat against the leather. He put a square bolster under her belly, which helped support her. The bolster rubbed against the sensitive patch of skin and she shivered.
“Tell me if your neck gets tired.”
“Yes, Master.”
“I want to be thorough, so I’m going to do some abrasion on your back, but since I have you like this, I think I should also start in on that pretty ass.”
“If it pleases you, Master.”
“It does, Anna.” He slid one finger into her pussy. “And it’s going to please you too.”
He applied the boar bristle brush in long strokes from her shoulders, down her back, over her ass and along the backs of her thighs. Now that she knew what the result was, she enjoyed the process much more, arching into the increasingly intense feelings of the strokes. He moved on to the loofa mitt, going over the skin he’d already abused.
When he reached her ass, he pulled the cheeks apart and stroked her anus with the loofa. Anna yelped.
“Does that hurt?” he asked, still rubbing her.
“Yes.”
“I won’t give you the full treatment here, but I want you to be fully aware and feeling when I put the plug in you.”
Rather than a scrap of tweed, this time he went over her with his discarded tie, the silk seemingly as rough as denim.
“How do you feel?”
“My skin is sore.”
“How is your neck?”
“Fine.”
He grumbled then came around and crouched to look in her face. “I know when you’re lying.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Even when you don’t know you’re lying, I know you’re lying.”
Jensen fiddled with the underside of one of the cross pieces, then pulled a head rest into place. It was like the ones attached to massage tables. Anna rested her face in it, and the strain on her neck disappeared.
“Thank you, Master.”
He reached out and pinched a nipple. “I need you to tell me if something feels wrong, Anna.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out some wooden clothespins.
“No! Master, I promise I will. I didn’t realize my neck was hurting.”
“Then this will remind you to check in with your body.”
“Master, please.”
“Open your mouth, Anna.”
Anna lifted her head just enough to open her mouth. Master Jensen pinched her tongue in two fingers and pulled it down, snapping two clothespins onto it. Anna cried out.
She hated clothespins on her tongue. For another sub it might have been odd or even stimulating, but for Anna it was a true corrective action. It had been an accidental discovery, and ever since then her Master had used it as punishment—real punishment, not the kind that was actually a sex act in itself. Anna didn’t like the way it pinched her tongue, didn’t like that it made her drool and kept her from talking.
“You’ll keep them on for five minutes.”
Master Jensen left her there, her body offered up and ready for him, but untouched and unused until her punishment was complete. When he returned, he ducked to look up at her face.
“Anna, for the rest of this weekend you will make sure to pay attention to your body. You will let me know if something hurts, or feels strange. I may not stop, but I want to know.”
He pulled the clothespins off and Anna blinked back tears, hiding her throbbing tongue in her mouth.
“Yes, Master,” she whispered meekly. “Thank you, Master.”
He rubbed her lower lip with his thumb. “Good girl.”
Anna focused on breathing, trying to get back the level of arousal she’d reached before. She shouldn’t have worried, because the next thing her Master did was to slide his tongue over the abused skin at her shoulder blade. He kissed, nipped and licked his way along her back to her ass. Every touch was a shock on the hyper-sensitive skin.
“Usually you hold so still.” Jensen ran his fingertips down her back and she shivered. “It’s fun to see you twitching.”
Anna clenched her teeth, reveling in the need that pulsed and pounded within her. She wanted him to climb up behind her and slide his cock into her pussy, fuck her until the desperate need inside her was satisfied.
Two fingers sank into her sex. “Yes, yes,” she moaned. Her body clenched around the small invasion, wishing it was more.
“Not yet.” He pulled out and patted her ass.
Anna heard him walk away, heard the sound of drawers opening and closing. If she strained, she could lift and turn her head, but she didn’t.
“You’ve never been fond of anal, have you?” His voice grew louder as he returned.
“I enjoy it, Master.”
“But not as much as when I fuck your sweet pussy.”
“No, Master.”
“It’s partially my fault. You’re very fuckable.” He ran his hand possessively over her ass. “It’s hard to wait.”
Anna would have smiled, but she was too wound up, too aware of how close he was to her exposed sex and ass, too aware of her naked breasts and hyper-sensitive skin.
There was a click and then something cold trickled down the crack of her ass.
Jensen rubbed the lube over her puckered anus. He stroked and massaged her, paying much more attention to her rear entrance than he ever had before. Anna was by no means a prude, but she’d never considered having her ass played with pleasurable in and of itself. It had always been a part of her submission—Doms and Masters used her there, taking her because they could, because they controlled her body and her pleasure. The feeling of being dominated and used had been the source of her enjoyment, but the longer Master Jensen rubbed her, his fingers sliding smoothly over the soft ring of flesh, the more she enjoyed the feeling.
The sensitive skin of her anus started to throb the way her nipples did when he played with them. Her aching pussy clenched with each pass of his fingers.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Yes, Master. I am. I didn’t realize.”
“Didn’t realize what?”
“That it would feel this good.”
“And this?” He pushed one lubed finger into her.
Anna’s ass clenched around him, his finger feeling thicker and wider than it ever had before.
“Anna, how does it feel having my finger in your ass?”
“Good, Master. It feels good.”
“I don’t want good.” He pushed his finger deep, until his knuckles dug into her butt cheek.
Anna leaned forward, trying to get away from the pressure. “I’m sorry, Master.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He pulled his finger out. “It just means you need something more back there.”
Jensen came around to her head and crouched, holding up something for her to see. “This is the first plug. The small plug.”
It was clear and nearly six inches long, but not very thick, with a gentle taper from tip to widest part, then another easy slope from that to the neck. The base was long and flat, made to fit between the butt cheeks.
Anna breathed a little sigh of relief. She’d had plugs like this used on her before, and though it was by no means insignificant, it wouldn’t be too much. He pressed the tip against her lips and Anna licked it.
Jensen rose and circled to her ass. He stroked her from the small of her back over her bottom to her thighs. Kneading her ass cheeks with his hands, he pulled them apart, exposing her.
“Relax,” he ordered as he released her. The top of the lube bottle clicked and Anna imagined him coating the plug. The hard tip pressed against her anus. His other hand spread her ass apart once more.
“Anna, relax,” he barked.
Taking a shuddering breath she released the tension in her leg and ass muscles. The tip of the plug slid in.
“Good girl.” He applied pressure and the thick acrylic entered her, pressing deep into her body, each millimeter opening her more.
The widest part entered. Anna felt the plug narrowing. The base pressed against her and she breathed a sigh of relief. Master Jensen thumbed her pussy, rubbing her clit.
Anna moaned in pleasure, perilously close to orgasm. Jensen chuckled. “Not yet, love.”
He undid the straps holding her down and helped her off the cross. Anna clung to his shoulders as she stood, the plug shifting within her.
“Master,” she whimpered.
“The sun has barely set. I’m not nearly done with you.”
Master Jensen left her there, disappearing into the dark. A minute later the lights came up—spotlights dimming while recessed lights turned on, filling the room with a blue glow. It was twilight, with the starry pinprick lights still visible in the ceiling, but she could now see the rest of the room, beyond what had been illuminated by the spotlights. Master Jensen stepped up to a pommel horse near the large mirror. He patted it and then crooked his finger at her.
“Come here, Anna.”
Anna walked carefully towards her Master, aware of the plug shifting with each step. She paused beside the waist-high padded bar. Like the equipment used in gymnastics, it had two legs and a thick upper cross piece. Unlike in sports, it was covered in black vinyl, and straps and chains dangled from the underside.
Anna stopped two feet back and licked her lips. She’d never been used on the horse before, though she’d seen it used in a variety of ways. She hoped he was going to have her sit on it and spread her legs so he could fuck her. The presence of the plug in her ass made it impossible to calm the need inside her. To be a good sub was to live in conflict, relishing in near-constant arousal while simultaneously being serene and accepting.