by T. Evans
The thing about the crop was that it could easily go from being friendly and playful to being a right bastard. Marshall demonstrated by working around from her inner thighs to tapping at the front of her left leg. Each tap was a little harder, until he bent his elbow to pull it back, and used his wrist to flick the slapper solidly against her leg. The sound was sharp and sudden as a gunshot, and Anita let out a squeak as she jumped up.
“Keep your feet planted,” Marshall, said, flicking the slapper against her other leg. Anita wiggled a bit, but kept both feet on the floor, and even bit back her squeak so he didn’t have to tell her to be quiet.
What followed was a tour, down the front of her right thigh, then the inside of the calf, then back up the outside of her leg from ankles to hip. Anita was clearly struggling to keep still as he laid a few dozen smacks of the crop down and up her leg, but she still kept quiet. He repeated the tour on her left leg, by which time she was clearly having a hard time keeping her feet on the ground.
“You may move freely, Miss Rhodes,” he said, and she stood up straight, high-stepping in place. He set the riding crop down and picked up the light flogger, with slightly stiff, suede falls. It had nowhere near the weight of the caribou flogger, nor did the leather have any yield to it.
Anita was still stepping in place when he got back to the cross. He put a hand in the middle of her chest and pushed her back against it. She immediately reached up to grab the rings at the top. Marshall reached down between her legs, happy at what he felt.
“Is this really getting you going?” he asked.
“Terribly so, Sir.”
“Too bad I’m not going to do anything about that. Tilt your head back,” Marshall said.
Anita took one look at the flogger in his hands, at the stance he had, and it appeared she knew exactly what was coming next. She leaned her head way back, and pushed her chest forward.
Marshall started with a nice warm-up again, using the flogger lightly across her breasts to get the skin ready. Easing the intensity up served two purposes. Starting light and working up to harder impact was easier for the body to take, which let him go longer. But the lighter strokes also sensitized the skin, making the harder sensations later more intense. Anita noticeably winced every time he brought the flogger across one of her nipples, which were still raw and very sensitive from the dragon tail. With the first good swipe, fast and with just the tips to make it extra stingy, Anita wasn’t able to keep silent. She tried, and Marshall heard her try to choke the cry down, but it was too much for her to completely suppress. Three more sweeps, and she was struggling to keep still and quiet.
She was also clearly approaching the limit of the sting she could easily take across her chest. Marshall gave her a few seconds to steady, and said, “You can either make noise or stamp your feet, if it will help,” then he gave her a righteous lash on her left side. Anita stomped her foot hard on the ground several times, and inhaled sharply, but without voice.
Marshall gave her three more on the left side, then lashed her right side. More foot stomping, but still no noise from her but a heavy breath in. He got in several more lashes, giving her a few seconds between each, before she said, “Alter, Sir. Please, Sir. Alter.”
He looked at her thighs, which had a nice set of the short, wide welts that the crop tended to produce. He figured the skin there should still be warm and prepared, so he laid a few solid stripes across her legs.
She seemed to be taking it well, so he let himself pick up the intensity and the speed and went to work, until she said, “Warning, Sir.”
“Very good, Miss Rhodes. You performed very well.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said, still leaned back against the cross, still holding the rings at the tops, looking like she was close to her legs buckling.
“There’s just one more thing,” he said.
“Sir?” Anita asked.
Marshall draped the flogger over his shoulder, and gave her a really hard, open handed slap on her left breast. Anita pulled both arms down to protect her chest, and half-turned away from him.
“I imagine you were feeling very lopsided from earlier. Is that better?”
“It is, Sir,” Anita said, with a sharp look that made it very clear that she hated to admit he was right.
“Come here,” Marshall said, opening his arms. Anita came closer, and he embraced her, holding her tight. She reciprocated, burying her face in his shoulder and squeezing him. Slowly, he walked them to his chair. “Here,” he said, twisting her a bit so her side was against him. He stooped and picked her up, so he could lower himself into his chair with her curled on his lap.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Content, Sir.”
“I obviously didn’t beat you hard enough, then.” He heard Anita chuckle a little bit.
“I would still be content, Sir.”
“I know. Now shut your mouth. Keep it shut until you’re ready to stroke my cock.”
Anita lifted her head and looked Marshall in the eye, with a question clearly on her face. She studied the way he looked back at her for a bit, then slid off his lap and down to the floor. She unlaced the front of his pants. Marshall had been in her mouth several times since bringing her into The Retreat, and had enjoyed her expressing several different moods with it. She proceeded to show him an entirely new one. She curled up against his legs, wrapping her arms around his thighs and hips. The attention she paid him with her mouth and tongue was very gentle, slow. Nurturing was the word that came to mind as she rocked slightly while cuddled up to him.
It was the first time Marshall had ever given aftercare to a submissive by receiving oral from her. There was something extremely right about how it felt for him to comfort Anita by just petting her hair as she sucked on him.
“I’m not going to finish this way, Miss Rhodes, but you are welcome to continue until you are recovered and ready for your next task.”
“I understand, Sir,” Anita said, then went back to attending to him. She kept at it for several more minutes, until she stopped rocking. She gave one more hard suck, then took up a kneeling tall position. “What is your next desire, Sir?”
“Hand me the book I was reading yesterday,” Marshall said, pointing to the bookcase behind him. “Then go through every room, and make sure everything clean and in place. Empty the dishwasher, replace the towels in the restroom, and make my bed. I want The Retreat to be in order.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Marshall kept an ear on Anita’s movements while he read some more. She had certainly redoubled her efforts to serve and please him since she lost the collar the night before. He had initially worried that he’d given it back too soon, but in hindsight, it had been the right time. Taking it from her had badly shaken her, and giving it back had given her a tremendous boost to her confidence, a boost that was making he ever more alluring to him.
Soon, the story he was reading distracted him from his thoughts of Anita, and he let himself be absorbed by it until he heard her come into the room. Down to her hands and knees, kisses to the tops of his feet, kneeling tall, and she asked, “What is your next desire, Sir?”
Marshall left her kneeling before his chair while he inspected her work. Everything was clean, anything that had been taken out and used was put up or replaced. Appliances on the kitchen counter and toiletries in the restroom were all very precisely laid out. She had made his bed with an almost military precision. His shoes and tall oxblood boots even looked like they’d been buffed.
“Your favorite position, Miss Rhodes. Assume it.”
Anita climbed up onto Marshall’s chair, kneeling on the seat, holding onto the back of it. Marshall slipped out of his clothes and came up behind her. He parted her lips, and was pleased to find her body was still very ready to welcome him.
“Notice that there is nothing on your wrists.”
“Do I have your permission to climax freely, Sir?”
“Under one condition, Miss Rhodes. If you move in such a way t
hat I slip out of your body, you will lose all orgasm privileges for the remainder of the day.”
“I understand, Sir,” Anita said.
Marshall entered her, enjoying the sound of her breath letting out, and the shiver that ran through her entire body. She started to roll her hips, and did a little bit of repositioning while he started at her nice and easy, savoring the way she felt inside.
When he was ready to go at her in earnest, he reached out to grab a handful of hair, and between that and a good grip on her hip, he quickly worked his way up to a riding her hard. Once he got up to pace, she immediately went for the peak. Marshall quickly started reciting colors, “Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo. Violet!” He barely got the last word out before she went over. He had not ordered her to wait for his cue, but there was no harm whatsoever in continuing to associate her pleasure with the words he’d chosen.
He worked her through another six or seven orgasms before his own started to build. He slowed down for a short while to enjoy the preliminary escalation, the awareness that the cascade of pleasure was becoming inevitable. Sometimes, he found that first step toward the tipping point more moving than the completion. There was something about that moment of anticipation, of knowing the release was going to happen, that was just the most perfect thing in the world. Marshall was having one of those moments with Anita, her free to indulge her own pleasure as often as it would come, put him into a rare and joyous place.
The buildup of pleasure started to get insistent, though, and he started to crave that release more than the basking in the slow burn. He let go of Anita’s hair and slipped a finger inside the back of the collar, giving it just a little tug.
“Ohhhh,” escaped Anita’s lips in among the other happy noises she was making. That emboldened Marshall, and he went back to slamming his hips against hers, which got him rocketing up toward his orgasm. He slipped a second finger inside the collar and pulled back, twisting it.
Anita nodded her head. That was all he needed. He twisted and pulled even harder, started hammering his hips into hers. “Red! Yellow! Orange!” he grunted with each powerful thrust. “Green! Blue!” He found he was having to struggle to hold himself back, he was so close.
“Indigo!”
Anita started kicking her feet against the seat of the chair and slapping the back of it.
“Violet!” he shouted, keeping a tight grip on the collar as he made the final thrust into her, going up on his toes, pushing with his hips and pulling back with his hands to try and bury himself even deeper inside of her as he growled. Anita helped him, grinding her hips against his, reaching back to grab him and try to pull herself closer.
When the brutal waves of pleasure finished crashing through him, Marshall let go of the collar. Anita ravenously sucked in air and her upper body collapsed, while her hips stayed in motion, stirring him around inside of her. Marshall moved his hands to her waist and danced with her until he softened and slid out.
“Shall I get us some water, Sir?”
Chapter Five
After lunch, Sir subjected Anita to a fairly brutal introduction to caning, cuffing her ankles together, strapping her down to the spanking bench, and beating her calves and the soles of her feet until she called, ‘Alter’. He moved his attention to the backs of her thighs and kept going until she called, ‘Warning’.
“’Warning’, or, ‘Alter’?” he asked.
“Warning, Sir,” Anita cried. “Please. Warning.”
“Have you endured past your limits?”
“I have,” she said, her voice coming out in sobs. “I held out as long as I could for you, Sir.”
“Why did you do that?” he asked, setting the cane on the floor and placing a hand on the small of her back. He dragged it up her spine as he walked from her feet to her head.
“Yesterday you said you wanted to push me past my limits, Sir.”
“Yes, I did. And I am glad you allowed me to do so. Thank you, Miss Rhodes.”
“Of course, Sir,” Anita said, and then she allowed herself to cry openly.
Sir removed the straps holding her to the bench, but left the cuffs on her wrists and ankles. “Stay still,” he told her, and took the waist belt that had held her body to the spanking bench and wrapped it twice around her thighs. “Ok. Up, now,” Sir said, taking a handful of her hair and slowly lifting he upper body off the bench. He crouched down a bit, and lifted her into his arms, cradling her.
Anita rubbed her eyes, both bewildered at what he had in mind, but also feeling tremendously secure at how easily he had lifted her up. To have him demonstrate so clearly how much physical strength and power he had, and how gently he could use it, reinforced that sense she’d been developing all weekend that the harder he used her, the more he was committed to keeping her safe.
Sir carried Anita to his bedroom and laid her on the bed. Anita’s heart fluttered, as did other parts of her, while she watched him unlace his pants. His cock was as hard as she’d ever seen it. Anita put her hands on her breasts, rubbing them and anticipating whatever he was planning on doing to her next.
He stood at the side of the bed and grabbed her ankles, pulling her toward him. When her hips were up against his body, he put her ankles over his right shoulder and wrapped an arm around her thighs. When he guided himself into her, she inhaled sharply at the intense pleasure of him filling her, then said, “Ohhhhh, Sir.”
“Look at your wrists, Miss Rhodes,” he said.
Anita didn’t need to look. She knew exactly what he meant. There were still cuffs on her wrists. Unlike the round he gave her before lunch, where he’d allowed, even encouraged, her to take pleasure from him freely, she was back to needing to hold herself back. She took her hands off her breasts and clenched her fists into the bedding instead. She said, as neutrally as she could manage, “Yes, Sir.”
“I’m going to completely deny you this time. Just so you know what is going to happen.”
“Yes, Sir,” Anita said, closing her eyes and trying her hardest to start up her chant again of “Sir. Wants.” to see if she could retreat somewhat from her body while he used her. It had the additional benefit of distracting her from the pain of his body impacting on the fresh cane welts on the backs of her thighs. Still, the aggressive caning had really gotten her terribly aroused, and he filled her like she’d never been filled before. Having her thighs bound together made for a very tight fit, and he was certainly doing his best to hit her most sensitive parts. He was still going strong when she felt her body start to pulse around him, the first sign that an orgasm was coming, whether she wanted it or not.
“Alter, please, Sir,” Anita said.
“’Alter’, Miss Rhodes?”
“Please, Sir. I’m not going to be able to stop it.”
“Do what you need to,” Sir said, burying himself deep inside of her and wriggling his hips.
“Please, Sir. I’ll give you anything else you desire. I don’t want to fail you!”
“No,” he said.
Anita put her forearm in her mouth and bit down hard, hoping the pain would distract her, but it did nothing to stem the rising tide. She started pounding her fist on the bed, thinking of anything but his hard, insistent cock filling every part of her.
“I cannot, Sir. I’m not strong enough. I can’t Sir. Please. Anything, Sir.”
“Anything, Miss Rhodes?”
“Anything, Sir. I’ll give you anything.”
He pulled out. “Spin. Suck,” he said, pointing to his cock.
“Yes, Sir.” Anita flipped so she was laying on her stomach and brought her mouth to him. She gave it everything she had. It was the first time she’d ever sucked a man who’d just been inside of her. She’d never been interested in trying before, generally finding the idea quite distasteful. But she’d begged Sir to stop what he’d been doing because she wasn’t able to hold herself back as she’d been ordered. He deserved the best she could possibly give him, and that meant not hesitating at all to wrap her lips a
round him, regardless of where he’d just been.
Once she set to work, she found the taste of her own body on him to be strange, but not offensive. It was not anything she’d consider pleasant, but it was not bad. She felt she could learn to enjoy the experience if she let herself.
Things were just getting good when she felt a shift in his weight. She knew what that meant, so despite herself, she tensed up just before a solid slap landed on her upper back. Anita let out a grunt, but did not let it break her rhythm. He struck her twice more, and she kept working.
“I’m going to keep this up until you finish me,” Sir said.
Anita nodded and started to suck harder and work her hand in tandem with her mouth. He quickly brought the slaps into synch with her attentions, and somehow, Anita found herself retreating as the pattern of bob, bob, Slap! bob, bob, Slap! started to lull her. When he finally came, it was a surprise to her, and she nearly choked as her mouth unexpectedly filled up with his hot seed.
“Mmmmmmm…” she moaned when she came fully back into the moment, and swallowed what was already in her mouth, then started sucking hard to drain him completely.
When Sir stopped shivering and pulled out, he said, “I am disappointed you were not up to the task, but respect you for admitting it before you failed.”
“Holding back is new to me, Sir, and you are tremendously skilled.”
“Your inability to hold denied me something I wanted, Miss Rhodes. You understand I cannot let that go without consequences.”
“Of course, Sir.”
“I’m going to shower. Clean up in here and The Playground, then I need you to shower as well. If you have packed any makeup, apply it subtly. But first, come here.” He put a hand on her shoulder to push her down into a kneeling tall position and unbuckled the collar. “This is just until you’ve cleaned up,” he reassured her. Despite that, she felt the weight of its absence settle on her as he left the room with it.
