On Your Knees

by Brynn Paulin

  “And pain…”

  “At first, perhaps.” The thick, cord-wrapped handle of the flog dragged over her ass while he continued to assault her tiny opening with his fingers. “Many couples use spanking as part of their sex play. The position, the pain, the dominance of one over the other all enhances the encounter.” The handle slipped into her folds rasping across the tender flesh. “Now the flog is different. This is not for play, Jessica. This is because you were willful and disobedient.”

  She pressed her lips together before she protested that she didn’t know.

  “The flog is a tool of punishment,” he went on. “Yes, it brings some pain. Still in the end it will bring you pleasure, as it does most.”

  She doubted that. In her head his voice twined with Madam Zelda’s telling her to have faith.

  Jessica gasped as the corded grip nudged past the lips of her open pussy. Each ridge caught on her tender walls, sending a riot of sensation to her womb. She pressed her face into the bench overwhelmed by the sensation of the handle tormenting her sheath while his fingers filled her ass. She moaned when he pulled them free but she had little time to ponder it as he drilled the handle in and out of her. His knuckles knocked against her clit with each stroke.

  Her inner walls grabbed at the corded rod, amplifying the reaction shooting through her. Release coiled inside her, drawing tighter and tighter until she danced at the edge of explosion.

  She jerked when he pulled it away and draped the flog across her back and over her bound hands, the damp end cradled against her ass.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered. “The flog will shift if you disobey.”

  Taking deep breaths while her body rattled with protest against being left at the brink, she listened to him move around the room. How long would he leave her here in this torment?

  She heard water running, followed by silence. Straining her ears, she listened and anticipated his approach. When nothing came, she started to lift her head. A leather tail shifted and she froze, planting her forehead in the cushion.

  “Naughty, slave,” he admonished.

  Oh no, he was watching.

  “I’m sorry, Master,” she replied, her voice muffled by the seat.

  “Um-hmm.”

  Not seeing him, not knowing what he doing, was killing her. And he didn’t seem to be in a big hurry to return to her, either. Didn’t he need to fuck her as much as she needed to be fucked? For that matter would he ever fuck her? Was this some psychological torment to take her to the edge then leave her there without ever giving her what she needed?

  He’d said he’d fill her needs. He’d better or that hapless pedestrian was in trouble again. This wasn’t easy kneeling here and effectively being put on display. She tried to forget about it but damn it if it didn’t turn her on a little. How had she not known this about herself? She’d always had submission-like fantasies still she’d never thought she’d actually want to be in the center of one.

  Though she was listening for him, she started when he returned to her and moved aside the flog. He walked as silently as a cat.

  “Don’t move,” he reminded her. A moment later, the cuffs were released and he positioned her so her arms draped over the other side of the bench and down to the floor. A metallic click announced one wrist had been attached to a ring driven into the cement. She yanked at it and found there was no give.

  “You can leave me loose,” she told him. “I won’t move.”

  It wasn’t true. She was worried about what was coming. She wanted to be able to dart for the door if need be. If she went screaming for the exit of Pleasure Palace with the dungeon master on her heels, would people help her or help him? Would they think it was just a game and look away?

  “I think maybe you might need a little help.” His fingers closed around the other wrist and he dragged it to join the other. The lock clicked into place as he fastened the cuff to the same loop as the other.

  “Lift up a little,” he told her.

  She couldn’t move. Her breaths came in shuddering pants as she pressed her face into the cushion of the bench. She couldn’t do this. She needed to leave. For the first time since entering the dungeon she felt truly helpless. He could do anything and she couldn’t stop him.

  “Jessica?”

  “I’m scared,” she admitted. He’d told her to be completely honest. She hoped it didn’t backfire on her.

  Gently, he lifted her and pulled the bench from beneath her.

  “Elbows down,” he told her, at the same time he guided her into position. Her arms stretched out in front of her, her ass stretched up in the air as she knelt. He stroked his hand over it and onto her bowed back.

  “My sweet slave. This is what you wanted. Total release from responsibility. Total surrender. Total loss of control and power. You are entirely mine. At my mercy.”

  Oh God! Why did her body have to respond at the idea of being completely at his whim?

  He slid a small, thin pillow beneath her head. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself against the cement when you jerk. You’re scared right now but in a few moments, you’ll learn that with the flog comes pleasure. Your body will experience things you’ve never imagined and you’ll never want to leave. You’ll crave more. You’ll want me to do more.”

  She couldn’t imagine it, yet she’d never imagined being this aroused before. Heck, she’d never imagined any of this—any of her secret dreams—coming to fruition before.

  Dreams will become reality…

  Thank you Madam Zelda, Jessica thought. Duly noted.

  The waiting was the worst part. Regardless of what the psychic had said when she’d scanned the cards, Jessica didn’t foresee this going well. Her captor—when she thought about it, that’s what he really was—didn’t seem inclined to want to get on with things. It was a head game. He was just fucking with her. Putting her in this ridiculous, revealing, unfortunately arousing position. Watching her without really touching. Making her feel totally helpless without her control. Was that all this was about? Playing with her?

  Please, he couldn’t be toying with her. She needed to fuck almost more than she needed to breathe. Even the air touching her exposed pussy was driving her need higher. She shifted, adjusting the weight on her knees and flexing her inner muscles. If she rushed home her vibrator would help with this relentless need. She wouldn’t make any stops—except darn it, she needed batteries. She’d just have to make do without the vibrating function. She was vibrating enough to do the job anyway. The way she was feeling, she could pickup and screw the clerk from the 7-11 right on the counter, security camera running and all.

  “If I ask really nicely and tell you I’m done playing and I want to go home, would you let me go please?”

  “No.”

  “I’m serious. I know you get paid to do this whole thing… I’m sorry. I’m done. I won’t ask that my friend’s money get refunded. I’d just really like to go home.”

  He sighed and a moment later, his boots appeared in the corner of her vision. His heels tipped up as he hunkered down beside her and touched her cheek. “Poor Jessica, so confused by all this.”

  “Stop patronizing me and unlock the cuffs!”

  “And here I thought we were beyond this… Are you taking back the gift you gave me?” He leaned down so his mouth was near hers and stared directly into her eyes. “I’m not getting paid. I’m only here because of you.”

  Stabbing his fingers through her braided hair, he turned her and covered her lips. Jessica groaned as his tongue speared into her mouth taking possession of it as easily as he’d possessed the rest of her. Ravenously, she met him, tasting him and feeling the open need in his urgent kiss. She breathed in his spicy scent, losing herself to him as he consumed her soul.

  “Shall we continue?” he said unevenly when he pulled back and stood. “Or do I let you go and we both fruitlessly try to forget this ever happened?”

  She turned back to the head-down position she’d been in before.

/>   “If you don’t work for Pleasure Palace…” Why was that even hotter? “Then I’m chained up and naked with a stranger.”

  “You were before.”

  “That was different. It was almost therapeutic, like sex counseling. This is…”

  “Wrong? Sinful? Exciting? Arousing? Exactly what you’ve dreamed of since you were old enough to understand sex?”

  Her fingers clasped around the loop of metal holding her cuffs. It was all the things he said. “Yes.”

  “I won’t endanger you, Jessica.” His deep, sexy, almost-familiar voice sank through her. He could take her to the verge of orgasm just with his confident tone alone. Every word proved he had complete control of this situation.

  She loved how he said her name as if just that was his claim on her.

  “You’re completely safe with me.”

  So this was it. Again she was presented with a decision. He was offering exactly what she’d asked for. She could go home unfulfilled. Or the alternative…explore this unknown lifestyle. She wanted both. Her mental pendulum swung back and forth like a wind chime caught in a tornado. She should reassert that she wanted to leave, yet she didn’t really want to leave. She wanted to see what happened. Wasn’t it true that the only real reason she wanted to leave was because she was scared of the flog? Jessica Rush, who wasn’t afraid of anything?

  “I want to go on,” she said, tightening her fingers on the ring.

  She yelped as the flog thudded against her ass before she could beg him not to hurt her. Much. Deep down, if she examined her hidden fantasies, all those dominations, all the captures, all the force, this was in there too.

  “Let it out,” he said. “Scream if you must. Personally it makes me hotter for the frenzy that will take you.”

  Tears welled in her eyes and the sting spread against her buttocks. Frenzy? Hah!

  “Again,” she whispered. The flog fell, the knots biting into her tender flesh and she bucked unable to hold back a loud cry. He didn’t give her time to react before another caught her thighs, another on her back, on the crease where her leg met her ass so perilously close to her needy cleft.

  Her mind went fuzzy as she anticipated another stroke and the backslap as the ends ricocheted and connected again. She angled her hips toward it. He ignored her silent plea and let it fall on her upper back.

  “Please, oh Master please,” she begged, widening her knees and dropping her shoulders to the floor. This time he gave in to her but the extra strength in the blow made it clear it was his decision and his alone. No amount of angling or begging would sway him from his mission of total power.

  She didn’t care. He could have it. All of it. As long as he wanted.

  Ryan watched Jessica’s body quiver as he doled out the promised flogging. He’d purposely chosen a medium weight flog to give her an intense experience without risk of really hurting her. He’d meant to count how many strokes he’d given, but instead he’d lost track, just watching her body and listening to how her screams had segued from pain to intense pleasure. She rocked toward him wanting more.

  He weighed his options.

  He could go on, give her the release needed by this loss of control and total submission while he denied himself or he could drop his fly and plow his rock hard cock as deep into her as it would go. Either way, their pleasure would continue.

  Maybe a few more strokes. He didn’t think either of them could take much more. Sweat had broken out on his brow and not from exertion. Just working Jessica, whose body also glistened with her perspiration, drove his temperature up too.

  Drawing back, he angled the flog, letting the tails fly down toward her delicate folds. Jessica jerked and he knew one had connected. He suddenly had the urge to kiss it better while he drove her straight over the edge with his mouth.

  He’d never had a slave affect him like this. Each thud of the flog jerked his cock, pulling her toward him and waiting oblivion.

  “Again,” she begged, her body sagging with the extreme pleasure attacking it. She felt his discipline everywhere—he’d seen to that—and now it overwhelmed her. She cried out passionately even when the tails weren’t connecting with her. Her hips rocked in search of someone to fill her.

  Him.

  Not one more stroke. He flung the flog aside and reached for his zipper. He shoved down his pants just far enough to expose his cock. Jessica looked over her shoulder, her face tearstained and her eyes dazed.

  “Oh thank heaven,” she whispered when she saw what he was doing. Quickly, he rolled on a condom and knelt behind her. Grasping her hips, he drove into her with one powerful stroke.

  “Yes!” Jessica shrieked, straightening her arms and shoving back into him. Her molten passage branded him, the burning honey of her extreme arousal coating him and dripping down to his tight balls. He moved just to relieve some of the pressure of her clutching walls, only to find he needed that tight squeeze more than he needed to breathe. Urgently, he rammed back inside, giving everything over to her. She thought she was helpless? Her writhing body had the power to give or refuse what he’d desired for so long. Her sharp little tongue honed his need. He couldn’t survive without both of them.

  Reaching between them, he rasped his thumb over her exposed nub. Her cry echoed off the stone walls and back into his ever-tightening body. He wouldn’t last long and he wanted her flying with him when he finally erupted inside her.

  She bucked under him almost throwing off his wild rhythm as he pistoned in and out of her cunt. Her “Yes!” and “oh God!” alternated with “Please!” and drove him on. Her fleshy walls convulsed around him.

  “No! No!” she wailed, going rigid while he continued to pull her back onto his erection. The tight grip closed around him. He drove on, fighting the release until the last moment when she was spent in his arms and a ball of vibrating nerve endings. Knowing it would drive her to another orgasm, he dragged his fingers over her clit again, coaxing another explosion.

  “Take it,” he rasped, knowing it would complete this scene in her head. She needed it. She needed his command over her. “Yeah, squeeze my cock. Milk it.”

  She made a strangled sound and her body shuddered beneath him. Another wave of release tore through her, even stronger than before. It pulled him with it. Urgently, he made one last drive and blasted inside her.

  “Mine!” he bellowed, filling her. She was his and he never intended to let her forget it.

  Chapter Three

  Jessica slowly became aware she was curled on the cool stone floor with a very male body wrapped around her. Sometime in her haze, he’d released the cuffs holding her. Her arms were crossed over her chest with his crossed over them.

  “You did well,” he murmured. “I was proud of you, my little slave.”

  She nuzzled her head back against him, warm with the praise. It pleased her inordinately that she’d pleased him. “Thank you for convincing me not to run.”

  “Hmmm,” he replied. He sounded distracted as he pulled back slightly. She winced when he touched his fingers to her back. The flog didn’t feel so good now. She smiled, despite the pain. This would be a constant reminder the next few days of the intensely perfect time she’d spent in the Pleasure Palace dungeon. Every time she moved, the dungeon master would be with her.

  Getting up, he carefully lifted her in his arms. He kicked the pillow toward the bench.

  “On your knees. On the pillow,” he told her. “Then lean over the bench.”

  She immediately complied, though she couldn’t stifle her groan. She didn’t know if she could take any more quite yet.

  He’d had somewhat kind moments before but now he was almost tender while still commanding her. He smoothed his fingers over her brow. “There won’t be more right now,” he promised, somehow knowing her thoughts. Why should she be surprised? He’d known them up until now.

  She didn’t move as he left her and crossed the room. She heard him open cupboards and run water but didn’t look at him. Slowly, she took mea
sured breaths while she leaned her head on her crossed arms. The dichotomy between earlier and now made her head spin.

  “Master?” she asked, figuring she’d better continue to use the title. Especially since she still didn’t know his name. She had a feeling he still wouldn’t tell her, either. Not tonight. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Ask me anything.”

  “How did you…um…when did you…”

  He returned to her side and sat on the bench beside her, a square bowl on his lap. He’d completely removed his pants while he’d been away from her. “How did I get to be a Dom?”

  She flinched as he dabbed a warm, damp cloth over her bruised skin. “Yes. I’d imagine you don’t just say one day ‘I think I might like to be a Dom. All I need is a submissive’. There has to be some process.”

  “There wasn’t really.” He dabbed cool cream onto her back, carefully rubbing it in to each mark. “I was raised in a D/s family. My father is a Dom and my mother’s a sub.”

  That surprised her. She’d never thought of this in a family setting. “How does that work? I mean with kids and all.”

  “It was subtle. My mom didn’t run around naked, wearing chains. We never saw our father do anything that any other dad wouldn’t do. Sometimes they’d disappear to their room, even in the middle of the day.” He shrugged continuing his ministrations. “My father was always in charge and Mom mostly complied with what he said. That didn’t mean she was weak. She’s extremely strong and successful in her own right. Just like you are. I have total respect for her.” He lifted her chin so that she looked into his eyes—she still wished she could see their color. His thumb smoothed over her swollen bottom lip. “And believe it or not, I have total respect for you too. Submitting doesn’t make you weak. You have to be very strong to do it.”

  She’d never thought of herself as particularly strong. Actually, she spent every day trying to prove herself. Maybe she didn’t need to do that.