“My curious little deviant.”
This is her power, isn’t it? Everywhere I lead her, she so enthusiastically follows. No hesitation. Her hips roll and the muscles of her stomach ripple. Her eyes grow hooded, her lashes fanning over her flushing cheeks.
I’m attuned to every twitch, every hitched breath, every eyelid flutter. I am her Master, her maker.
Her god.
The clamp fits perfectly, squeezing her delicate flesh. The jewels hang down, tickling her perineum. The emeralds glisten with her juices.
I bend down, intent as a scientist looking through a microscope. Watching miracles unfold. I toy with the jewels and she clenches her bottom. I blow on her clit and she rocks her hips. All the while, desperate little gasps escape her lips.
“Poor Daphne.” I rise a moment, adjusting myself. My cock is stiff and throbbing in my pants. I’m torturing myself as much as torturing her.
I roll up my shirt sleeves and settle in for my feast.
At the first touch of my tongue, her back arches, her body bowing as far as she can go in the restraints. “Master,” she screams.
My cock almost splits my pant’s seam. I nuzzle the clamp with my nose and glide my tongue over her quivering flesh.
We groan in unison. Her sweet taste— “Heaven.”
Daphne
I knew Logan would torture me when I returned, but I might not survive a day. Logan’s face is pressed between my legs, freaking eating me like he’s starving.
My wrists are red from tugging at my bounds. I’m desperate to grab his face and grind down. I’m so close—
Logan pulls away, wiping his face on his shirt sleeve. Leaving me on the edge. Fuck!
“You can’t always get what you want,” Logan intones. Fucker.
My arousal teeters on a knife edge. One side pleasure, the other side pain. Or maybe the two are one.
But I feel a rush of gratitude. If this is all my Master will dish out, then I can take it.
“You took your clamping well.”
I relax at the praise. The jeweled clamp didn’t look too scary. Just a wire prong designed to squeeze my flesh a little bit. Maybe I’ll survive tonight after all.
He adds a touch of lube and slides the prong off. The way he’s watching my face, I know something’s about to happen. And then, it does. Holy shit!
The blood rushes back to those places.
Oh fuck, oh fuck!
My clit is engorged a thousand-fold. I stare down between my legs but can barely concentrate because I’m about to explode, right on the edge. It’s so close, so insane, I’ve never felt such a buildup of pleasured intensity—
I writhe my hips this way and that, trying to get stimulation. Maybe I can catch my clit on the side of my leg—
“Ah ah,” Logan steadies me, adding restraints that pull my legs further apart. He leaves for a moment, exiting into the shadows.
I lay on the table, half-floating, my throbbing clit my only tether to the earthly plane, a red beacon in the blissful haze. What is it about this man that makes me just...surrender?
The Beast returns. He is the Beast now, fully. A mask affixed to his features. A hulk of a man, my body recognizes as Master. My toes curl at the sight of him—shirt off, muscles on display. In his hand: a black crop.
Maybe the pain’s just begun. My heart trips over itself as he runs the black leather flap along my face and neck, tracing my collarbone, circling my breasts.
Whap! The crop strikes the underside of my right breast. A cruel sting on my soft flesh. Why is my pussy flooding?
Whap! Another on the inside of my thigh. A bright patch on the smooth pale skin. Why does my back arch, offering my body up?
More soft strikes and sudden strikes. The crop rubs my pussy folds and comes away coated in moisture. Master holds it to my lips to taste. Tart and salty. Why does it taste so good?
My body is covered with red marks. Brilliant ornaments. My Master is a genius, to paint my flesh so well. He took a blank canvas and made it beautiful. I am his masterpiece.
“You’ve been so good.” Master’s crop nudges my pussy folds, sparking new pleasure. His voice comes from far away. “But Daphne? We’re just getting started.”
He brings the crop down on my pussy. Thwap! Fireworks burst behind my eyes. A scream rings in my ears. My throat is raw—the sound was torn from me.
Master strokes the leather lovingly down my legs. “I bet I could make you cum just from this. But no. You don’t deserve to cum.”
Tears slide from my eyes, glazing a path to my temples. I want to deserve what Master gives me.
The Beast leaves. The Beast returns. He has another gift for me in his hands. A wicked looking tweezer clamp with silicone-tipped ends. He aligns it with the seething bundle of want that is my clit. Squeezes down.
“Oh, fuck!” I lose control of my tongue.
“Naughty girl.” He crops my breast again, making the jewels bounce. Yes! Punish me. Make me pay. I’ll take the pain. I’ll deserve the good things I want.
This is where I’m meant to be.
Logan
Her tears don’t move me at all. Nor her breasts, reddened from the crop strikes, wearing the emeralds so proudly. Her supple thighs, shimmering with sweat and her cunt juices. Her godsdamned scent…
I turn my back on her, turn away to adjust myself. My arousal makes me grit my teeth. I wish I could explain away my erection. I haven’t cum in a while. Wielding a crop always makes me hard. But it’s Daphne. All Daphne.
She betrayed you. Lied to you.
But she’s so beautiful, her tears so earnest, her face and body so...so fucking necessary. I don’t want to want her, but I do. I always have.
“You will learn,” I growl and grit my teeth. The crop falls over and over, leaving red in its wake. She cries out, the slim column of her throat working as she labors to draw breath. She’s close to the boundaries of where I wanted to take her. Any further and there’ll be danger. Too much damage. Too much pain.
Calm. Control. I am the Master.
Who am I fooling? When it comes to Daphne, I am undone.
The crop slices down, striking her between her legs. The clamp goes flying.
Her body stiffens and a wail breaks from her, long and unending. I drop the crop and stare at her heaving body. Her eyes open wide, unseeing, her fingers clenching and unclenching as her orgasm goes on and on.
She just came from excruciating pain.
She’s one in a billion. But then, she always was.
Eleven
7 Years Ago
Daphne
“You drove for three hours? To take me to the beach?” I’m still incredulous.
Logan just shrugs. “So let’s enjoy it.”
Now I’m speechless. But he’s already out of the truck, popping his seat and pulling things out of the small compartment behind it. Beach towels. A full backpack. Our lunch.
I only realize that I’m still sitting there, stunned, when he glances my way and smirks. “You just gonna sit there or you coming?”
I shove my door open and hop out of the car.
By the time I come around to him, he’s pulling things out of the backpack.
“Here, there’s some bathrooms over there where you can go change.” He hands me a bag.