Something Brave

by Victoria Blisse

  She was surprised when he didn’t simply hit the round, fleshy parts but shifted down to the top of her thighs. That really smarted.

  “Ow,” she yelped. “Oh, ow, stop, please, no.”

  Each slap increased the sting, each strike of his strong fingers spread the burn further. Her bottom stung, the cheeks radiated pain and heat, but the throb was more pleasant than the cascading intensity of his slaps on her tender thighs. It hurt so much that her safe word danced on the tip of her tongue.

  Then that harshness changed. His impacts were no lighter, but it was like the nature of the very pain itself morphed into something akin to great ecstasy. It still smarted, but instead of recoiling from it, she wanted more.

  When he stopped, Felicity found herself crooning and pushing out her bum. She missed the heavy strike of his hand.

  “I knew you’d love it.” He growled, tracing his fingers over her sore cheeks.

  He made her moan. She longed for more.

  “But I haven’t forgotten the crop.”

  She stiffened. It had been quite erotic having his hand on her bum, but she really didn’t know if she’d be able to take the strike of his crop.

  “Relax, Felicity.”

  He gasped, obviously he’d really exerted himself in the hand spanking. She wondered if some of the huskiness of his tone could be attributed to his own arousal too.

  “I suggest you lay your body across the desktop. It will help you keep still better.”

  She followed his instruction, stretching out and resting her hot body against the ice-cold table. She squeaked with shock, and he only laughed. She thought to herself how wicked he was, then he picked up the crop and she realized she hadn’t even begun to find out the extent of his wickedness.

  He made a few swings, the noise buzzing in the air, but the implement didn’t impact on her arse, no matter how much she cringed. Felicity relaxed and that was her mistake. He must have been watching her body language because that was when the first blow shook her right buttock.

  The soreness from his hand spanks had been rounded, spread across a palm length and width. In contrast, the crop exploded a square of intense pain in just one small spot. The worst thing was that she knew he hadn’t hit her very hard that time, and even when he lifted the instrument off her skin, it stung as intensely as when it had landed.

  The sting melted into burning pleasure but then he let another slap land close to the initial impact spot. She yelped, the sound grounding into a gurgle as the shocking pain zapped directly through to her clit. The next few impacts were light slaps, as if he was drumming the crop on her as he might drum his fingers on the desk when he was thinking.

  If he was thinking, she was scared. What was he going to do next?

  The crop came down on the other buttock to even up the two sides, she presumed. She was amazed by the variation in pain radiating from her bottom. Some was mellow, some burning, some stinging, some throbbing. Her whole bottom was a patchwork of delightful pain.

  “Are you okay, Felicity?” he asked.

  She whimpered, the sting equal in both buttocks once more.

  “I’m okay, Sir,” she replied in a pant.

  “Can you take more?”

  The question hung in the air. She really didn’t know, but a tiny spark somewhere deep inside made her want to try.

  “I think so, Sir.”

  “Harder too?” The tone intimated the question.

  “Yes, Sir.” She gasped. It would push her boundaries—she knew it would—but she wanted to find out how far she could go.

  It was definitely the waiting that she hated the most. She strained all her senses to hear or feel some movement that would indicate the next blow was imminent, but he was still, the air was undisturbed, and she clung on to the desk like a life raft and waited for the blow to land.

  When it came, the pain cracked through her with such quick intensity that she scrabbled her toes into the carpet and screamed into the desk. She didn’t have time to recover, though. She heard the tell-tale whoosh and her opposite buttock exploded in the same level of incandescent pain the other had. She sobbed and panted, clenching her whole body against another strike.

  “Oh, baby,” he purred, “you took that so well.” He ran his fingers over the first impact site, making her inhale sharply through her teeth. “Yes, that’s going to leave quite a mark.”

  He stroked over the twin on the opposite side, and she wiggled and bounced, wanting him to stop and never stop touching her all at the same time. She’d barely had one concrete thought today. She was constantly a jumble of fear and desire. The only time she’d been certain of anything was when she’d submitted to him. Felicity might have had reservations, but deep inside, she knew she wanted it.

  “Do you want more?”

  She did and she definitely didn’t. Could he hit harder? What would happen if he did? All these questions ran through her mind.

  “I’m not sure, Sir,” she admitted.

  “Shall we try one more on each cheek?” he asked. “Then you can have a treat for being such a good sub.”

  “Okay, Sir,” she agreed. Two more. She could ride out two more, especially since she was caught up in thinking about the future treat.

  Felicity expected the final blows to land somewhere in the vicinity of the last marks. No, that infuriating man let the crop fall just at the crease where her butt met her thigh on both sides. It sent her into screaming palpitations.

  “Well done.”

  He stroked down her back and over her buttocks. They stung so much, so intensely, but that smarting pain contrasted against the mellow thrum of desire building inside her pussy. Every strike had made her wetter. She sincerely hoped the treat involved an orgasm. She was desperate to come.

  “Turn around and face me,” he demanded.

  Felicity wasn’t even sure she was capable of standing. She pried her fingers from the edge of the table and pushed up. She winced when she turned and felt the air move against her bottom.

  Felicity barely had time to register what was happening when he pressed his mouth to hers and scorched her lips with a desperate kiss. As it deepened he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tighter to his chest. She gripped his open shirt sides and rode out the intensity of the kiss, enjoying being carried away on the waves of lust.

  He ran his hands down over her buttocks, purposefully squeezing and making her gasp against his lips. She felt them bend into a smirk and barely refrained from slapping his chest to protest his cruelty. It wasn’t the worst he had planned. A moment later, he pushed her back and the desk rammed into her tender flesh.

  “Ow,” she exclaimed “You…” She thought better of what she was going to call him and kept it inside her head.

  He laughed wickedly and encouraged her to climb up onto the table until her hot and pained buttocks were pushed into the tortuous yet heavenly cool desktop. The edge of it pushed against the tender crease that he’d spanked so thoroughly. It hurt. She wanted to jump off, but he pressed in between her thighs and trapped her there.

  “Felicity,” he gasped, pulling out of another scorching kiss. “I’m going to fuck you now. Is that okay?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She groaned.

  He leaned over, pulled open a desk drawer and extracted a condom.

  “Touch yourself for me,” he commanded, “while I get this on. Show me how you get off when you’re on your own.”

  Felicity panted. His words turned her on, but she was frightened. What if she did it wrong? What if he didn’t find her pussy attractive? What if it made a strange noise? Even she knew her fears were crazy, but still she hesitated.

  “Right,” he exclaimed, grabbed the crop and slapped it gently against her thighs until she spread them. “Finger yourself for me or I will use this crop.” He left it lying across her open thighs while he concentrated on the condom. Felicity moaned, closed her eyes tightly and ran a hand down over her stomach and into her pubic hair that was already sticky with her juices.r />
  She let the tip of her pointer finger touch her clit and a bolt of pleasure zapped through her with surprising intensity. She repeated the move and continued to rub her clit, enjoying the vibrations of pure pleasure as her buttocks pulsed with pained desire.

  “That’s it,” he whispered softly.

  Felicity fluttered her eyelids open and saw him staring directly between her thighs. She tightened with imminent orgasm.

  “I want to be inside you when you come.” He gasped and pressed forward, knocking the crop onto the floor.

  His legs scratched against her inner thigh, and his protected cock nudged against her fingertips. He stroked down, between her lips, until he found her entrance and pushed forward. Felicity arched her back and shifted her pussy closer to the edge of the table, angling her body so he could slip inside her, despite the flaming pain in her arse.

  Felicity wound her legs around his thighs. He’d trapped her fingers between their bodies, but with her other hand, she clung to him. She didn’t want to fall. His lips seared a path along her shoulders and into the dip below her collarbone.

  He thrust deeply into her and pulled back, the rhythm rubbing her abused bum backward and forward, making her croon with the pain-filled pleasure.

  “Don’t stop touching yourself,” he whispered against her neck, “but you must ask my permission to come.”

  She nodded eagerly. She hadn’t purposefully stopped rubbing her clit. She’d just been distracted by how he felt filling her. Their moans and sighs blended as they rocked in rhythm. She smelled his musk, the heaviness of their joined sexes and the heat of the wood and leather that they fucked upon.

  She was lost in a cocoon of ecstasy and soon she felt her internal coil of desire tightening to breaking point.

  “Can I come, please, Sir?” she asked.

  “No.” He growled, fucking into her with extra force.

  “Oh, please,” she whimpered. “Please, let me come, Sir.”

  “No,” he repeated through gritted teeth. He was close himself. She could feel it in the tenseness of his frame.

  “Oh, Sir, please, I need to come. Please let me come.” She continued rubbing her clit in light circles, anything less and the orgasm would be lost—anything more, and she’d be in trouble for coming without permission.

  “No,” he snapped.

  But she knew he couldn’t hold out much longer.

  “Please, Sir!” she begged. “Please can I come now?”

  “Yes!” he roared.

  He pumped into her with ferocity that constricted her thighs around him and knocked her own orgasm into overdrive. She bucked, moaned and squeezed him tightly to her as she shook with great pleasure.

  They clung together, panting and gasping, treasuring each other’s body heat.

  “Wow.” He gasped. “Felicity…wow.”

  She giggled and buried her face in his shoulder, blushing again.

  “I hope I’m going to get your phone number now,” he whispered and kissed her neck.

  “Only if you tell me your name,” she replied with a wink.

  He looked deep into her eyes.

  “Samuel,” he said, “but you still have to call me Sir, remember?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She smiled.

  “And I will call you very soon to see how my commission is coming on.”

  “What if it isn’t ready when you call, Sir?” she asked with a teasing purr.

  “Then you will have to be punished.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” She giggled. “I will make sure I take my time.”

  Chapter Three

  Felicity really had tried to take her time over Samuel’s commission, but it had all come together quickly, and she couldn’t help working on them. Crafting something personalized for her Master had helped her feel connected to him. She’d put her heart and soul into it. Samuel had aroused something in her that she hadn’t realized existed. Well, a libido for a start.

  She’d tried desperately to be cool about it all, to carry on with life as usual, but he so often jumped to mind. Every time she sat or somehow knocked her bottom, the blossoming pain had reminded her of him. Simply seeing a man in a suit on the street would make her think of him Even looking at her own business cards and stock made her think of how they met. Had he touched them when he’d been watching her stall? Even sounds brought him to mind. Felicity dropped a book in the kitchen and the slap of the paperback on lino sounded like the slap of his hand on her buttock.

  The cufflinks were completed within a week, but Samuel didn’t ring. Felicity had no way of contacting him unless she went to his office and she wasn’t that brave. So she waited and waited and waited.

  Three weeks later, she was relaxing in a warm bath when the phone rang. She was tempted to ignore it, but every time the phone pipped, her stomach lurched and Sir jumped to mind. She leaped out of the bath, out of the room and didn’t even pause to pull a towel around her. She rushed to the phone.

  “Hello,” she gasped, heart bouncing like a ping pong ball on a bat.

  “Hello, Felicity,” a deep, dark sensuous voice replied.

  “Hello, Sir.” She gulped. At last, it was him. She was relieved and petrified in the same moment.

  “Have you finished my commission?”

  “Yes, Sir, I have.”

  “Wonderful. Can you bring them to my office?”

  “I’m sure I can, Sir, yes. When would you like them?” Felicity picked up a pen and poised it over the memo pad that always sat beside the phone.

  “Now.”

  “Now? I can’t do now. I was just in the bath.”

  “Felicity,” he snapped.

  “Sir, I was just in the bath and it’s quite late and—”

  “I am asking you to bring them to me now. Your Master is commanding you.”

  “But—” Felicity was going to explain that she lived in a particularly nasty area of town and that she really didn’t like to go out of an evening, especially in summer when the long, warm nights meant the unsavory sorts hung out on the patch of grass outside, drinking cheap lager and swearing. She couldn’t face that.

  “No excuses. Even as my sub, you have choices. You can choose to obey me and bring the cufflinks to me now and receive a reward, or you can choose to bring them tomorrow and receive a punishment. It’s up to you.”

  “But—”

  “Felicity, I said no excuses. You have your two options. I look forward to seeing you.”

  He hung up and Felicity held the beeping handset, stunned by what had happened.

  “Why that infuriating bastard!” she exclaimed, slamming the phone into the rest and stomping back to the bathtub. Determined not to give in, she climbed back into the bath and settled down. Felicity decided she would visit him the next day and explain exactly why. Then he was bound to show mercy. Or at least that’s what she hoped.

  * * * *

  She was less confident as she strolled up the street toward his office in the harsh midday sun. Her light, sleeveless navy dress with small white spots was cool in the summer heat and matched with a pair of strappy sandals. Even wearing so little, and capturing her hair in a large clip at the back of her head, she was still hot and red when she arrived at the reception of Samuel’s company.

  It was only when she walked up to the desk that she realized she only knew his first name. Luckily, it was the same man who’d let them in the last time.

  “Erm, hello.” She smiled hesitantly. “I’m here to see Samuel.”

  “Samuel Hughes?” he asked, looking at his list.

  “Erm, it might be. I er, don’t know his last name.” Felicity blushed and looked down at the shiny wooden top.

  “Hold on a moment, miss. What’s your name? I’ll ring and see if he’s expecting you.”

  “Felicity Hope,” she replied with a nervous smile.

  The guard picked up a phone and dialed a number.

  “Hello, sir, are you expecting a Felicity Hope at all?” He waited for a momen
t and nodded. “I’ll send her up.”

  “I’ll escort you up to Mr. Hughes’s office. I know you’ve been there before, but I’ll make sure you don’t get lost.”

  “Oh, okay, thanks.” He had remembered her from the other time she’d visited. Felicity’s cheeks flared red as they waited for the elevator.

  “A little advance warning.” He leaned in. “He’s in an awful mood today, grumpy as sin.”

  “Oh,” Felicity gasped. “Erm, thanks.”

  All the way up in the lift, Felicity questioned her decision. Maybe she should feign illness and leave. If he was in a bad mood, what might happen?

  “Right, miss,” The middle-aged man walked carefully down the corridor toward a familiar door. “He said for you to knock and wait for him to let you in.”

  “Okay, thank you, erm…”

  “My name’s Joseph, miss.”

  “Thank you, Joseph.” She smiled and remembered Sir had called him by name last time she’d been there. Joseph seemed like a genuinely nice chap, even if looking him in the eye made her blush. Felicity didn’t enjoy knowing that such a sweet man probably knew she was engaged in sexual relations with his boss.

  “You’re welcome. Good luck!” He waved and walked back to the lift.

  Felicity exhaled deeply, turned to the door and knocked.

  Samuel Hughes CEO

  She stared at the name for ages, waiting for the door to open or to hear his voice beckon her in, but she heard and saw nothing. Had he not heard the knock? Should she knock again? What if he was in there with someone else? She didn’t want to disturb a business meeting.

  Felicity nibbled her bottom lip, stopped, then she tapped her fingers against her thigh, stopped and sighed. She stretched forward and hovered her knuckles in front of the wood of the door. Her hand shook, her stomach tippled over and over itself like a circus artist and her mouth was painfully dry. She was about to turn and re-enter the lift, leave and never come back when she heard his voice.

  “Come in, Felicity.”

  She took a shuddering breath, pushed down the handle and walked in. Samuel sat behind his desk, jacket draped across the back of his chair, shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbow.