Innocence Tempted (18 page)

I changed instruments as promised
,
using the braided whip for the next five. It was obvious that she felt these a little more. Her counting was still clear and unafraid, but she squirmed slightly and her skin began to flush.

“How do you feel, Katlyn?”

“Good, Sir,” she answered, a little out of breath.

“Do you want to keep going?”

“Oh yes, please.”

I picked up my unbraided horsehair flogger next. This was my favorite for warm-ups with a more experienced sub. Of course what would eventually be a warm-up was about as far as I wanted to go for a first time.

“Count,” I commanded. I gave her ten with this one, five gentle, and then five at full strength.

She was panting pretty hard by the end, but there were no tears and she hadn’t stopped counting.

Her ass and thighs were a warm pink and just the sight of it made my cock harden like concrete all over again. I knelt down behind her and rubbed my hand over the abused skin. She moaned and pressed back into my touch.

“How are you?”

“I want more, please.” She half begged and half moaned.

I chuckled. “You filthy little slut. You like to be whipped. Don’t you? You want to be punished.”

“Yes, Sir,” she agreed.

My fingers found the soft, wet folds of her pussy and she trembled under me. “Do not c
u
m,” I growled in her ear. “Don’t you dare fucking c
u
m without permission.” I could feel the tightening in her muscles as she fought to hold herself back.

I fingered her for a minute longer, satisfied when she managed to control her body.

“Good girl. You’re doing so well, Katlyn. Are you going to be good for me a little while longer?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

“This is the only severe flogger that I’m going to use on you tonight. You don’t have to count this set. What are your safewords?”

I picked up the only rubber flogger I owned as she answered. I didn’t use it much, but I wanted her to understand that there was a range and
to
get a feel for the true pain that c
o
me
s
from a harder
flogger
.

I struck her four times with it in quick succession. She cried out at the last two and her breath caught. She was on the ver
g
e of tears. I didn’t want to push too far.

“Spread your legs a little wider for me.”

She did as I asked without complaint, and I picked up the braided suede flogger that I had used on her earlier. I wanted her to feel a few on the insides of her thighs and the edge of her pussy. I was done with the painful part; it was time to make her feel better.

I gave her five more, two to each side and then one that was low on her ass, very close to her pussy. She cried out at the last one, and her whole body jerked. She was incredibly close to orgasm, but I didn’t think that I pushed her over.

“Katlyn?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Did you c
u
m?”

“No, Sir.” There was desperation in her voice. She was close to her limit.

“But you want to?”

“Very much, Sir.”

“Beg me.”

“Please, Sir. Please let me c
u
m. Please fuck me.” She sounded broken. A coupe of loose tears spilled over her cheeks.

I knelt behind her again, stroking her sore hide gently.

“That’s my good girl. You did very well. You may c
u
m when you are ready.”

I lowered the fly on my pants and sunk my cock all the way into her overheated pussy. She convulsed around me immediately, throwing her head back and crying out. I gave her a couple of lo
n
g slow pumps as she rode it out.

When she settled, I began to fuck her harder. “Again, Katlyn. C
u
m for me. I want to feel this sweet pussy squeezing me.”

I moved my hands from her hips so that I could feel her breasts. Pushing the ottoman out of the way, I took her on her hands and knees on the carpet. She moved with me, meeting me stroke for stroke and taking my
cock all the way to the balls.

When she came again, I let myself go with her, and we eventually collapsed in a tangle of limbs in the middle of the floor. We lay there panting together for a while before either of us had the desire to speak.

“Sir?”

“Yes, Katlyn?”

“I’ve decided that I enjoy floggers.”

It was a slow process that summer, but I eventually learned that Cody had been right all along. I was a
submissive
. Putting a title on it made it easier to accept, and after a while I came to realize that I had always known it. I liked giving up control, even when it meant doing something that scared or intimidated me. I liked not having to make all of the decisions all of the time. And most of all, I liked knowing that there was a man who cared for me and was willing to take responsibility for my well-being. I felt cherished when I was with him and that was something I wanted to keep.

Cody would do anything to protect me. I understood that at the core of my being, and I didn’t think that would change, even when I left him. But he really wasn’t mine to keep; he never had been. I accepted that truth in the way that you might accept a new job, even if it meant moving away from a position that you enjoyed. While I would miss him and everything that he had shown me, this was not the end of a path, but the beginning of a whole new adventure. He was not only teaching me, he was launching me into what would define my future relationships.

I was learning to open up, and the new range of emotions that I was experiencing was both challenging and refreshing. Cody was slowly getting me to tie all sorts of physical activities to emotional release. I wasn’t getting any better at hiking, but I was getting better at giving in and giving up. After my initial session with the floggers, I found myself craving more. I’d heard other people, more athletic people, talk about the “runner’s high,” and I’d never really understood what they meant. In my world, exercise would never be addicting, but this was very much the same idea. It wasn’t the pain that I craved exactly, but the feelings that the pain gave me: the initial fear, followed by the adrenaline rush, followed by the physical outpouring of tears, then later, the comfort in knowing that I had survived, that I was stronger than I had originally thought, then the lightness that came from having released all of that fear and stress. It was a predictable, comforting pattern for me.

As I packed up my childhood things that would accompany me to college and decided on those that would stay behind, I reflected on how much I had grown in just one summer. High school and the petty nature of the small town where I had grown up already felt distant, as if I’d been out of school for years rather than months.

I knew that the world was a big place and that there were other men—Dominant men—out there. I didn’t like discussing it, but Cody had been gently warming me to the idea of finding a new master after I left. In his typical protective fashion he made me promise to tell him about any new developments. When I asked him if he would tell me about his new submissives, though, he gave me a look that clearly said “Don’t push your luck.” I didn’t push.

We had only two more sessions planned together before I would leave, and I approached them with great openness. I wanted to be like a sponge absorbing as much from him as I could before he’d leave me on my own. I didn’t have much room with Cody to make demands, but he did allow me to make requests when there was something that I wanted to try. He denied me frequently, saying that I needed to leave myself some room for future exploration, but occasionally he would let me have my way.

I walked into his house that night full of anticipation. He had promised me that we could try a few of the things that were still unexplored on my list, and while I was excited about some of them, some were still a little scary.

He let me in and immediately went to work. I preferred it this way. We would have plenty of time to talk when we were done. I wanted to play.

I knelt naked at his feet, the now familiar ache in my legs keeping me grounded while he stripped off his shirt and moved to stand above me. He put his hands in my hair, tipping my head back and giving me an eyeful of his chiseled abs.

“Take my belt off,” he commanded.

My hands felt heavy as I lifted them to do as I was told. I pulled the belt free of the buckle, tracing my fingers over the wild mustang pictured there, and then attempted to pull the belt free of the belt loops. It was harder than it sounded. I fumbled with it for a while before I was able to get it free. He waited patiently, his boots planted firmly on the floor, his hands never ceasing their gentle caress at the back of my neck.

“Good girl,” he murmured when I’d finally gotten it free. “Offer it to me.”

I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, but in an effort to please him, I sat back on my heels and laid the belt flat across my palms. I lifted my hands up to him in a clear gesture that he should take it from me.

He accepted it without a word and then smacked it against his leg. The sharp smacking noise startled me, but I knew that he’d done it as a foreshadowing for what was coming. It wouldn’t be just the noise for long; I would feel the sting of it in a few minutes.

“Lean forward on your hands, tits on the ground,” he said.

I obeyed, leaning forward so that my ass was in the air and everything from my chest up was pressed to the floor. I dug my fingers into the carpet, already anticipating the pain.

He didn’t make me wait. The first one struck me on the left side, and it stung. I couldn’t help it. I let out a yelp and rocked forward, pressing myself into the floor. I closed my eyes and waited for the next one. He alternated, hitting me on the other side, giving me a few seconds to recover, and then striking me again.

It hurt as badly as any of the floggers that he’d used before, and the noise was just as vicious. There had been no warm-up this time; he just tossed me right into it. He hadn’t told me, before he started, how many he’d give me, and while I was grateful that I didn’t have to count, all I could focus on was wondering when he would stop. How many would there be?

It wasn’t long before the sting intensified. He wasn’t holding back this time—wasn’t teaching—he was giving me a full set at full strength. I’m not sure how long I held out, but it didn’t feel very long. The pain overwhelmed me, and the tears poured out of my eyes uninvited.

He stopped when I broke down in sobs. It was quiet for a moment as he set down his belt, and the sound of my crying rang enormously loud in my ears. I wanted to pull myself together and put up a strong front, but I couldn’t. I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek to the already damp carpet.

“That’s right, let it out,” he whispered as he came up behind me. He lay down beside me, pulling me into his arms, spooning behind me as I curled into a fetal position. He held me while I cried, but to my surprise it only lasted a few minutes. The physical pain faded quickly, and the tears dried up too.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir.” I wasn’t quite ready to talk yet, but I knew that I was fine. He was right. Years of repressed emotions had caused a mess the first time we’d gone through this, but it had only been a few short weeks since my last cry and it was easier this time—a lot easier.

He held me, gently caressing my skin with his fingertips. It didn’t take long for the heat on my backside to transfer into a different kind of ache. Everywhere he touched me, my skin became inflamed with desire.