Time Out Of Time - Volume Two - BestLightNovel.com
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I had her begging already.
She closed her eyes to better feel the soft gentle touches over her silken skin.
Abruptly I stopped and stepped off the bed. She cried out as the stimulation left her soft skin. I rummaged in the pack as she watched, not saying a word.
I carefully slipped a blindfold over her eyes, which she allowed without complaint. I couldn't gag her, because the safeword was verbal. I didn't want her gagged anyway.
I picked up the crop, realizing that I hadn't used it on one of the women in a long time. I let it fall gently into my palm, feeling the sting of the leather. This was going to hurt her. I hoped that she wouldn't safeword out. I wanted this to work for her.
"What are you doing?" she asked quietly, unable to see the crop but hearing it.
"I'm going to whip you," I spoke gently to her.
"Oh G.o.d," I watched as she shuddered in her restraints at the words. "Not too hard. Okay?"
"I'll hit you as hard as necessary. Now I want you to do something for me."
"What?" she asked breathlessly.
"I want you to concentrate on turning the pain into arousal. Alright? And I want you to count."
"Count?"
"Everytime the crop touches your skin, I want you to count for me."
"How high?"
I was thrown again by this helpless girl. She switched tracks so quickly.
"What?"
"How many times are you going to hit me?"
"How many do you deserve? You pick."
"I can't. Don't ..." she began.
I relented. "Ten."
"Only ten?" she spoke mischievously.
"Would you rather have fifteen?"
She shook her head. She inquired quietly. "Where?"
"Where am I going to hit you?" I asked her for clarification.
"Yes. Please not on the b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Please?" She began to beg, even before the first blow fell on her helpless body.
"You have a safeword. I'll hit you where I think you need it," I reminded her. "If it's too much, safeword."
"I. I don't want to."
"I don't want you to either."
I took a deep breath and let a soft stroke fall onto her stretched belly. A red stripe appeared contrasting against her pale skin.
"Arrrrghhhhhhhh," she screamed into the room, twisting in the bonds. Her fingers twitched as she struggled with the steel bands. All she wanted in the whole world was to get her hands to her bare belly, to protect it and comfort it.
I waited until she calmed herself. The stroke had been light, not anything to cause her too much trouble. I'd increase the strength as she could take it, but I was more interested in getting her to feel her helplessness, her vulnerability than to actually hurt her. This was nothing compared to what Jane, or even Amy, had endured at my hands. And they hadn't had a safeword.
"Concentrate," I whispered to her.
"Christ. That was a light one, wasn't it?" she spoke in ragged breath.
"Yes."
"Oh G.o.d. Nine more?"
"Nine more."
The numerals she had spoken reminded her.
"Christ. One," she spoke without further hesitation. "I can't take ten. Even like that."
I let the crop fall against her right thigh, marking it as well. She screamed again, not expecting the pain. I watched as she struggled to control her voice, her pain. Her face contorted with the effort. That blow was slightly harder. Finally, after some incoherent gasps, she managed to remember to say, "Two."
I wasn't in this to punish her. I wasn't going to restart the count or anything if she forgot to count. This was her game, and she'd remember on her own time.
Her bare body was sheened in perspiration as my sixth stroke fell onto her bare left foot. The third had graced her left thigh. The fourth had kissed her right calf. Five and six had caressed the bottoms of her bare feet. Each blow was slightly harder than the last.
Eventually she gasped out the word, "Six."
She didn't stop there. She began to beg coherently.
"Please. I need you. Please stop hitting me. I. I'm so turned on. Just touch me. You don't need to hit me anymore. Please? I'll do whatever you want. I'll f.u.c.k you. I'll suck you. Anything. You can make me do anything anyway."
Her lips formed the words in a tumbled rush, her teeth gritting against the pain.
"Elizabeth?" I ventured.
"Yes, master?" she was breathing heavily. I still hadn't touched any of her obvious erogenous zones. I had purposely avoided her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and between her legs. She was pulling rhythmically against the ropes holding her.
"Are you ready for something else?"
"If you don't hit my feet again, I swear, I'll do whatever you want."
"Beg me."
"Beg for what?" she asked, slightly confused. I didn't answer her right away. After a moment, the blind bare girl tried something. Anything was better than lying there not knowing what I was going to do to her. "Please. Master. This slave begs to be f.u.c.ked. f.u.c.k me. Please?"
Well, that certainly increased my arousal. If it was possible.
"Beg me to hit your b.r.e.a.s.t.s," I whispered to her gently.
"Oh Christ. I can't. No," she responded, fear reflecting in the set of her lip. She had probably been wondering why I'd avoided her b.r.e.a.s.t.s up until this point. They were beautiful there, protruding from her chest, heaving with her breathing. Bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s, just aching to be touched with the crop. No defenses.
"Beg me."
"I can't. Don't make me do that."
"Concentrate, Elizabeth. Concentrate on turning the pain into pleasure."
"It's hard. It hurts."
"I know it does. Concentrate."
I could see the concentration flow across her lower features. Her eyes still hidden by the blindfold.
"Hit my b.r.e.a.s.t.s? Please, master?"
I nodded to myself, she was ready. I lifted the crop and let it fall against the tops of her sensitive and helpless b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The cry far outstripped any other I'd wrung from her.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Oh G.o.d. Oh G.o.d. It hurts. f.u.c.k. Please no more. f.u.c.k me. While I'm hot. Please. You'll kill me. Argh. b.a.s.t.a.r.d." But she remembered to count. "Seven. f.u.c.k. Only seven."
I waited patiently for her heaving body to settle. I could see her tears running down her face, leaking from beneath the strip of cloth covering her eyes.
When she had managed to get her breathing back down to a somewhat normal voice, she squeaked out a request.
"Please, sir. I. I don't think I can take another one, but hit my b.r.e.a.s.t.s again. Please?"
I smiled at that one, but I gently swung the crop up at the tender undersides of her small b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Again, the response was instantaneous as the red stripe appeared. She screamed out her pain, pulling in futility against the ropes holding her. I was sure that she was going to bruise herself. I could see all her desires to stop this pain. She wanted to cradle her b.r.e.a.s.t.s that had become the center of her world. She softly sobbed after counting out the eighth stroke.
She swallowed heavily and spoke again.
"Please. My b.r.e.a.s.t.s hurt. Hit me somewhere else? I can't take it again. Please? Why are you hitting me? I'm ready for you. I've never been more ready. Touch me."
I obliged her. True to her word, she was sopping wet. I could feel her heat before I even ventured a finger between her lower lips. She was lubricated beyond belief. She tensed and screamed as my finger lightly stroked her swollen c.l.i.t. I withdrew, determined to finish this properly.
She cried out in frustration as the sensations left her c.l.i.t.
I waited patiently, and finally her small voice spoke again.
"Hit me again. My b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Please. Make me hurt."
I smiled, an evil thought crossing my mind.
"Your nipples?"
"Oh G.o.d. No."
"Beg me."
"No. I can't. Not anymore. I'll safeword."
"No, you won't. You won't climax if you do."
She struggled in vain with her restraints. Frustrated. Wanting to touch herself even if I wouldn't. She didn't care.
"You b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Okay. Hit my nipples. Please."
I took a deep breath, watching her tense. When she finally relaxed her muscles, I let the crop fall against her swollen nipples. She wasn't expecting it and she opened her mouth and screamed soundlessly into the room. Her entire body tensed thras.h.i.+ng against the ropes. Her ankles nearly pulled the bedposts from their sockets. Her wrists were bright red from fighting the steel trapping them.
Then her voice finally made it down to normal human hearing range she sounded like a wounded animal. I hadn't softened the stroke, leaving her with the ever increasing power of the crop. I couldn't imagine the pain that she must be in.
"Ieeeeeeeieeeeeeeee. Ow. Please G.o.d. Make him stop. f.u.c.k. Nine. One more. I can't do it. Oh G.o.d it hurts. Not my t.i.ts. Anything but that."
She collapsed into hysterical crying, constantly pulling at her wrists. I could tell that all she wanted was to curl up into a ball and alleviate the pain was.h.i.+ng over her. After a few minutes she slowed her breathing. I gently kissed at her red and swollen nipples, caressing them as best I could, trying to help her turn that agony into pleasure.
"Lazarus," she spoke with a shudder in her voice.
I immediately pulled away from her, honouring our agreement. She was still in tears, but she must have been in serious pain to use the safeword. Perhaps I was being too rough with her. I reached for the blindfold, but she spoke as she felt my fingers at her face.
"Please. Leave it on me."
"Alright. What's the matter?"
"f.u.c.k me. I need you now. I can't take anymore pain to my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Please understand."
"I understand. But I'm not going to f.u.c.k you."
"Please? Oh my G.o.d. Why?"
"Because you stopped. I told you that we both had to agree to continue. And I'm not sure I want to."
"Oh G.o.d. I went through that for nothing?" she cried out pitifully.
"I will continue if you like," I spoke gently to her, stroking her face with my fingers. "You can finish." I wasn't sure of that. She wasn't the type of girl to call safeword for no reason. She was nearly beat.
"Please. I can't take anymore on the t.i.ts."
"I know."
"You won't hit me there?"
"I'll tell you what. You can safeword back in by saying *Lazarus' again. If you immediately beg me to hit you between the legs for the last stroke, I'll play," I said to her with a grin on my face. I was curious what she'd do. Stop. Or continue.
"You can't be serious. Not there. Hit my thighs. My feet again. You liked that." She swallowed. "Hit my b.r.e.a.s.t.s again. I'll take it somehow."