Nobody's Perfect

by Kallypso Masters

  He stood and returned to the position below and at the right of her, delivering several more backhanded blows between her knees and her hip joint. Her thighs burned. How much longer would he focus on the same area? Why didn't he smack her butt instead?

  "What's your level of pain, Savi?"

  Of course, he wasn't going to accept "fine" as a response. He'd taught her to number her pain level.

  "Two, Sir."

  The quirk of his eyebrow led her to amend that. "Okay, maybe a three. It's starting to burn longer after each blow now, and those places where you stung me hurt like hell."

  He grinned. "But you're doing much better at maintaining your focus. Good job, Savita."

  "Thank you, Sir."

  He nodded and moved to stand between her legs and, once again, she shielded herself. This time he stood far enough away that he would be able to look at her if she didn't have her hand in the way.

  The quirt stroked her arm from her elbow to the webbed rope on the backs of her hands leaving a path of raised flesh. She shuddered. She wasn't used to feeling anything, yet suddenly she did. She couldn't describe the sensation, but it wasn't numbness.

  He kicked something at one leg of the table and again on the other and repositioned the table more toward the center of the room. She looked at the windows, but they remained curtained. Relieved, she watched him move to stand with the cabinet behind him.

  The quirt whistled toward her with all the forward momentum he seemed capable of—quite a lot—and slapped against her butt cheek so close to her pussy that her hand jumped. Her middle finger entered her vagina and the knot of the rope jolted against her clit. A zing bolted through her.

  Again and again, he delivered harder and harder blows onto both of her ass cheeks with no indication he would stop anytime soon.

  …the Asians had opted to spread her knees wide, exposing her pussy more fully. The quirt burned against her inner thighs.

  Get into your zone. Go to your safe place, Savannah.

  Thump!

  She blinked and zeroed in on Damián's face. Why couldn't she keep her focus on this scene? She wanted to please him but was doing a poor job of it.

  "Stay with me, Savita. I don't want you thinking about any sadist but me. ¿Comprende?"

  She nodded.

  Something flashed in his eyes, and he raised the quirt at a new angle. She watched it descend, knowing where it would land before it came down hard on the top of her hand. She jerked. The blow sent another jolt to her clit. She fought against the restraints and only created more friction there.

  "When I ask a direct question, you answer verbally to make sure I hear you, Savi."

  The sting of tears burned her eyes, not from the pain as much as from disappointing him. "Y-y-yes, Sir. I understand."

  Slap!

  The quirt struck her inner thigh. "What's your pain level, Savi?"

  "Four, Sir." One very strong, motherfucking four.

  "I want to hear you scream for me now, Savi. We're going for a six."

  Six? How could she get there from a four? Not that it mattered what level he took her to. She would not scream.

  For what seemed like an eternity, the quirt landed time after time on her already raw thighs and ass, stinging more with each blow. After the last blow, a scream nearly ripped from her throat before she could capture it.

  As he began again, she became aware that she'd been stroking herself. Oh, dear lord. The quirt hurt less when she fingered herself. She moved her hand against her clit, letting the knot excite her clit. Pressure similar to what had built up when she'd masturbated earlier began to build again.

  The quirt landed on her ass, just above her anus, for five hard blows. Her finger and hand moved faster. The scream that surged up couldn't be contained. "Please don't! Stop!"

  "Where are you, Savi?"

  "With a sadistic bastard!"

  Thump!

  She opened her eyes, letting her hand still. "Why did you sting me? I was talking to you, Sir."

  "Thank you, Savita. My apologies. I thought you were screaming at someone from your past." He grinned at her with smug satisfaction. "What's your pain level?"

  Her eyes opened wider. "Oh, God, Sir. I feel a six!"

  He chuckled and bent to place another kiss on her burning ass cheek, then the other. She closed her eyes at the pain.

  "I'm your sadistic bastard, Savi. Don't you ever forget that."

  The calm way he delivered that statement at first made her want to rake her nails down his face to wipe the smugness away, but he distracted her instead by tapping the handle of the quirt against her hand. Embarrassed at what she'd been doing before he stopped, she tried to escape from his touch, but the restraints kept her firmly in place.

  "Are you ready for me to take you home, Savita?"

  They were finished? She frowned. He couldn't leave her like this. Wait. She didn't want to feel a pleasurable response to pain from her traitorous body.

  "If that's what you wish to do, Sir. I had a good time tonight."

  Damián tilted his head in puzzlement and laid the quirt on her belly. "I didn't mean take you home to the apartment. I meant are you ready to come for me again?"

  Oh! Why didn't he just say so?

  "Yes, Sir! I'd like that very much!"

  He chuckled. "Yes, you will."

  He walked over to the cabinet and opened the box. A shudder coursed down her body. No! Not with that! After removing the wand and attaching a mushroom-shaped tip on it—like the ones the sadists had used at the penthouse—he plugged the cord into the wall. He used his foot to roll a stool on squeaky wheels toward the juncture of her legs.

  She knew what was coming. She had to stop him. "Sir, you promised you wouldn't touch me there!"

  She whithered under the expression on his face. "Savi. Have I ever broken a promise to you?" She took short, rapid breaths, fighting to regain control. "Have I? "

  She shook her head.

  "Verbal answer." He reached for the quirt.

  She rushed to respond. "No, Sir! You haven't."

  "Then why don't you trust me?"

  Deep breath. Her chin quivered. "I don't know, Sir. I'm trying." Her voice sounded shaky and pathetic in her own ears. It wasn't a lack of trust really.

  Damián sat down facing her. He placed the cool purple globe against her burning skin and she fought to get away but couldn't move. Her mind registered that it somehow soothed the sting of the quirt and the unseen stinging thing he'd used to bring her back into the scene.

  He rubbed the globe against her hand, which stimulated her clit. Zing! Oh, dear lord. So close.

  "Tell me what it feels like when you touch your clit, your pussy."

  She refused to open her eyes to watch him. "Nice, Sir." But dirty.

  "What was that thought?"

  Would she never learn to school her expressions when she thought something negative? Even with her eyes closed, he could read her. But the thoughts just flitted in when she least expected.

  "Answer me."

  She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I…it just seems a little dirty."

  "There's nothing dirty about touching herself, Savi, about loving yourself, giving yourself pleasure. If I can't touch your pussy, you're the only other person I want to see touching it."

  The sound of electricity crackled in the air.

  "Nooooo!" She fought the restraints as hard as she could, hoping she might actually break them. She needed to escape. Memories of the time in her father's home office bombarded her senses. Fear clawed at her chest, leaving a burning pain behind. "Please, Sir. Don't hurt me like that. I can't do that again. Please, Damián!" She was babbling, but she needed to get through to him before he did something that would make her hate him.

  "Focus on your breathing, Savi. Inhale."

  "I can't breathe." She tried to drag air into her constricted chest. "Please don't do this!"

  Thump!

  Damián held a thin stick with a heart-shap
ed piece near the top. "I. Said. Inhale. Now, Savi."

  She'd displeased him. Still, he didn't seem angry. Concern was evident in his eyes. He cared. But how could he think she was ready for this? It was too soon.

  "In…hale."

  She wanted to please him. She tried once more to draw a breath, but it sounded more like a gasp.

  "Again."

  She tried again. A little better.

  "Do you trust me to know what is best for you, Savita?"

  No. Yes. No.

  "I don't know, Sir." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Please don't expect me to like that…that thing."

  "Savi, all I'm asking is that you trust me. You've only experienced the violet wand in a torture scene, but the sensation can be quite incredible if you'll let yourself experience it in a different way."

  She shook her head. "I can't. Please don't ask that of me, Damián." A sob broke from her throat, already raw from her screams.

  "I didn't ask you to experience it, Savi. I don't need to ask. Unless you use your safeword, you will accept whatever I decide you need. You know I will respect your hard limits, but this wasn't one of them. Your body belongs to me. You are mine to pleasure any way I wish. Isn't that so?"

  She'd enjoyed some of what he'd done. Damián wasn't a born sadist. He hadn't hurt her for the sake of hurting her or to get himself off. She wouldn't have been able to stand having him jacking off to her screams, like some of the sadists in her past had done. Why couldn't she place herself into his hands to do this? She wanted him to be pleased with her.

  Her body began to quiver. She wanted to curl herself into the fetal position and cower in a corner somewhere. She wanted him to release her and just hold her. "Not this. Please, Sir."

  "Please is not your safeword. What is?"

  Her safeword. "Tamale, Sir." She could stop him if he went too far. He'd stopped before when she'd spoken her safeword. She trusted Damián to stop, unlike those sadists in the hotel penthouse all those years ago.

  Damián won't harm you.

  Savi closed her eyes and breathed in and out several times, filling her lungs more deeply with each breath. After a moment, she opened her eyes again and looked into Damián's warm, brown ones.

  This was the final test. If she failed it, he might not want to be her Top anymore. He would stop if she used her safeword. She was certain of it.

  Perhaps she should see what he meant about it being enjoyable, rather than painful. She took one more deep breath, never breaking the connection she had with Damián's eyes, and felt some of the fear recede.

  "I trust you, Sir." Her heart pounded, as if not quite as convinced as her voice, but she would trust him to take care of her. Always.

  Damián smiled, and she forgot everything else. "I'm so proud of you, my brave girl."

  She'd pleased him. Some of the crushing weight in her chest lifted, and she gave him a tremulous smile. He placed a kiss on her inner thigh and stroked her ass cheek before lifting the purple mushroom globe again.

  "Remember, this isn't a punishment scene, Savi," he began. "I want to show you that the implements used against you earlier don't have to have such negative connotations. Every implement can be used for good or bad pain, but we're going to explore where the levels are for you to gain enjoyable, erotic pain from them."

  "But I don't feel…" She'd started to say she didn't feel erotic responses, but she just had while she'd touched herself. Heat rose through her body, frissons of excitement coursed through her body at remembering her orgasm from earlier tonight. "Yes, Sir."

  "If the pain goes beyond your tolerance level, I want you to use the word guacamole."

  The man certainly seemed fixated on food during his scenes.

  "That's not the same as your safeword. If you say tamale, the scene will stop entirely. But guacamole will let me know you need to stop, regroup, cool down, discuss what's going on. Then we'll determine when you're ready to continue."

  Using a safeword seemed so much more final when sometimes she only wanted to slow things down. Damián was doing everything he could to make her feel at ease.

  "Thank you, Sir, for giving me that choice."

  He reached out with both hands and stroked her inner thighs. She gasped. They were sore from the quirt, but as his hands continued to touch her, she felt another zing to her clit as the circuits started firing again, albeit intermittently.

  He smiled. He knew.

  "Remember. You're in control, Savita. You determine how far we go, whether we stop or continue." His hands barely brushed the skin, sending goose bumps to the surface. She shivered.

  "Yes, Sir." His hands began to make her thighs tingle. Suddenly, she needed more.

  Smack.

  Damián hand-slapped her ass, still raised off the gyno table, and she squealed in surprise. Her skin felt raw, burning from her ass to her inner thighs.

  Smack.

  When he struck her other ass cheek, she began to feel something, but she needed so much more. He smacked her thighs several more times; her skin began to burn more intensely.

  Damián scooted the squeaky stool back and lifted the purple globe again. She braced herself but closed her eyes, not wanting to see it coming at her.

  "Look at me, Savi."

  Don't make me connect on that level, Sir.

  He'd already laid her bare. Why did he insist she look at him? She'd drown in the intensity of his smoldering gaze. He'd exposed so many of her secrets.

  Vulnerable.

  Yet she couldn't refuse him. She opened her eyes but, rather than stare directly into his, her gaze zeroed in on the vile implement in his hand. He moved it to his right hand and picked up the quirt off her belly with his left.

  He brought it down several times against her thighs.

  Sonuvabitch. The blood lying so near the surface intensified the pain. Why didn't he just use the violet wand and get it over with? It couldn't hurt any more than this.

  The quirt whooshed through the air again and again, impacting against her thigh close to the earlier strike. Yes. The sting of the quirt burned.

  More. Savi moaned. She wanted more.

  As if her moans fueled him, he sped up the strikes, never hitting the same place twice, but always so very close. He began to smack the inside of her other thigh. Over and over, the blows rained down. Savi grew lightheaded, afraid she'd pass out. No, not faint, exactly. Different. Like…

  Floating.

  Belonging.

  I am his.

  As the feeling washed over her, she surrendered. Damián continued to strike her as she floated free of the bindings, free of the pain. She no longer felt anything but this intense sense of belonging to Damián.

  Her fingers plunged inside her pussy again. Memories of Damián's penis filling her left her weak, needy, wanting.

  Wanting only Damián.

  Her finger and hand moved against her pussy hole and clit. Faster. So close.

  The buzzing of the violet wand pulled her out of her euphoric state. Her fingers stopped moving. She tensed. Not that!

  "Inhale, Savi."

  She did as he told her and forced herself to relax again. Trust him.

  "Exhale."

  Again she followed his orders. He helped her find her center of focus again. She heard the buzzing of the wand but fought not to let it pull her away from focusing on her breathing.

  "We're going to start with a mushroom head, just like the one they used on you in the penthouse, but I'll be using a lower setting to begin. You'll feel the electricity like a warm current, a tingling sensation. "

  She watched him turn a knob; the buzzing grew louder. Her body shriveled up inside. Escape! Become invisible.

  The wand drew closer to her thigh. Sweat popped out at her temples.

  Crackle!

  The sensation of the violet wand touching her inner thigh tingled. It didn't hurt but wasn't enjoyable either.

  Crackle!

  The globe sent a charge through her thigh. She shook her hea
d. "Stop! I mean, guacamole!"

  Damián turned off the wand and soon filled her vision as he stood over her. He brushed the beads of sweat off her skin and into her hair. "Shhh. Deep breaths." He gently stroked her hair.

  "Tell me where you are, Savi."

  She shook her head. Too confusing. The past scene in the penthouse faded as a flash of memory bombarded her. Desk. Pressure. Pain. Crackling sounds.

  Her heart beat faster. The crackling of electricity filled the air. Had Damián turned it on again?

  "Savi. Answer me."

  No. He was standing over her. He'd turned it off.

  Desk. Face down on the desk.

  "I can't let go of the memories. It hurts. The buzzing sound…hurts my ears." She detested that thing. She needed to put that memory behind her.

  He frowned. "Has anyone else used a wand on you?"

  She'd never seen one before the clients in the penthouse pulled it out. She didn't even know what it was called until…the sound! no!

  She remembered where she'd heard the sound before.

  Father's weight crushed her breasts against the desk. Whatever Lyle used sent a searing, white-hot pain through her labia…

  "Fire!" Oh, dear lord, she was being burned!

  Zap!

  The wand touched her hand, and a jolt of electricity went through her mons and into her pussy hole. She tried to pull her hand away, tried to bolt out of her restraints, but could go nowhere. She was totally and completely at Damián's mercy.

  She trusted him to take care of her; she couldn't give in to these memories. Stay in the moment. Focus.

  Father's office. Face down on the desk, arms and legs restrained. Unbearable weight on her back. No escape. The buzzing noise filled the air. What was that sound? She'd never heard it before.

  Searing pain. Burning. Her flesh was burning.

  "Nooooooooo!"

  Damián ignored her. Had she screamed out only in her head? Wait. "No" wasn't her safeword, or even her slow-down word. She tried to squirm away from his touch, but there was no escaping him or his wand.

  Her mind. She could escape into her mind. Into her cave.

  Savi ran over the sand toward the arch to the cave, but the cave never got any closer. Gasping for breath, she finally stopped and fell to her knees. The crackling. She looked up.

  Father.