Chapter 28
“Look at how desperate you are for me, solnyshko. You want me so badly, don’t you?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
And fuck, I do. Every atom of my world has narrowed to Mila.
I’m strung up by my wrists to a hook she must have had installed in the ceiling, and even though she’s probably only had me here for ten minutes, I’m as relaxed as I’ve ever been.
Her flogger feels nothing like I expected, less pain and more pure, heavy sensation.
The rhythmic thudding of her pattern has become more pronounced than the beat of my own heart, and I swear I can feel every impact sending more blood flowing to my cock.
Everything’s faded away except her. The excitement of getting back onto the ice, the subtle black cloud of melancholy that’s lived here alone with me since I left the compound…
gone. Nothing but warmth on my back and thighs, scratches on my abs from her nails, and an ache that I’m not sure I’ll be able to take for much longer in my balls.
A long exhale is the only way I can think of to try to relax back into the blows, forcing myself to ignore my need for release.
“You’re making too much noise. Don’t make me second-guess your reward. You’ve been so good this evening. Control yourself.”
Fuck. I didn’t mean to whine. I just…it’s all too much. The rhythm of the flogger finally stops again, and the vision who’s been haunting my dreams circles to face me.
“One day, I’ll get you nice and pink on both sides.
Would you like that? You might find out you like a little pain on your cock.
” She punctuates her statement with a slap to my weeping erection, and I barely rein in my whimper as the pain travels up my spine and melds with the warmth still spreading from the flogger.
“Yes, Ma’am,” I grit out, barely able to keep my eyes open to enjoy her curves, poured into her bodysuit and taunting me as I dangle here.
“Good boy,” she purrs. “You’ve taken my hand and my flogger tonight without a single complaint. Did you enjoy them?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Would you like to fuck me now? Do you think you’ve earned it?”
“Yes. Please, Ma’am. I’ve been so good. I need to fuck you. Please. Please.”
“Mmm, you beg so prettily for me, sweet boy. Alright. I think you’ve earned it. I have a special treat planned for you.”
She backs away, but doesn’t move to release me, and I’m not sure how she plans to make this position work for us.
Not my problem. Mila is in charge and will take care of everything.
I float back toward reality when I notice that she’s slowly unzipping her outfit, starting at the neck and revealing more and more of the body that couldn’t be more beautiful if it was carved from marble.
Muscle, her rounded shoulders wide and framing her perfect breasts…her abs that aren’t defined but solid, the dark curls I’d stay buried in if she’d let me. She was bare underneath, and when she removes her boots and pulls her legs free, she’s gloriously exposed.
My dick, still so excited at any morsel of attention from her, twitches when she presses her abdomen flush to mine, my length straining toward her breasts between us.
“You don’t even care if you get to fuck me, do you? I mean, sure, you want to. You enjoy it. But if I never let you fuck me again, you’d be right here, begging me to flog you and give this pathetic little cock any attention at all. Wouldn’t you?”
It’s impossible to focus as she trails her nails through the sheen of sweat I’m covered in, but I knew the answer to her question before she even asked it.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Mmm, that’s my good fucking boy. I believe you. And I’ve been craving something I haven’t had for years. I’m going to lower your chain from the ceiling, just enough for you to be on your knees. Let me know when you’re comfy.”
My hands are still above my head, but she relaxes the tension as promised until I’m comfy on my knees. My shoulders are less taut, but I’m still completely at her mercy. After she ensures I’m right where she wants me, I’m forced back onto my heels with the force of a kiss that takes me by surprise.
Even though I’m more used to keeping my hands to myself than when we started, my palms itch to touch her. To feel her smooth skin, grip her hips as she rides me…
“You’ve been so good. Now prove you’ve got the stamina I deserve and fuck me from behind.”
Black spots cloud my vision as the goddess I’ve worshipped turns and drops to her hands and knees, backing up toward my thighs.
Oh fuck. She drops her cheek to the floor and reaches back, spreading her lips to help me find my way inside.
I take too long, apparently, mouth watering at the sight of her wetness, because she wiggles her hips and admonishes me.
“Thatcher! Don’t make me wait. You’ll have to watch me make myself come if you don’t—”
I surge forward, afraid to wait another second and risk my chance to be in this perfect fucking cunt. Every time, every goddamn time, regardless of how far into space I’ve floated, it feels like coming home.
“Yes, that’s so good. You’re so good for me, solnyshko. So deep for me like this.”
She’s working her own clit, and I hope this angle is doing as much for her as it is for me because I’m not going to make it.
Even without being able to grip her hips and drive into her, this is the first time I’ve ever seen her ass bounce back on me, and I’m about to embarrass myself.
No amount of distraction will pull me back from the edge.
“Ma’am, I—”
I can’t help the anguished wail that escapes me as she scoots away, ruining what was going to be an explosive orgasm. She stops just beyond the reach of my dick, and I swear a tooth cracks as I clamp down and try not to come.
“You’re not getting off that easily. Do you really think I deserve to be fucked for five strokes?”
“No, Ma’am, but I—”
“I don’t care. Do whatever you need to do, but do not come until I give you permission. I plan to enjoy your cock for a while yet.”
The following minutes, or hours, pass in a similar daze…
Mila teasing and giving me more or less time in her perfect warmth before denying me, whether I was on the edge or not.
She doesn’t deny herself at all, coming three times at least, based on the telltale vise grip of her release, testing the bounds of my self-control.
Technically, if I played this right, I could come before she even knew it was happening. If I kept an unbothered rhythm and didn’t show my intention…
“Don’t even fucking think about it. Toys don’t get to decide when they come, and they don’t fucking trick their way into orgasms. Be better. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Ma’am. I’m sorry.”
She’s even worse now, more torturous, displaying herself for me as lewdly as possible to ensure I’m overstimulated. The ache deep in my core feels almost unbearable, but I continue, pounding her relentlessly every time she backs up and allows me to.
Finally, she’s had enough, and her permission transforms her from my damnation to my salvation as she spasms around me one last time.
“Come for me. Come for me now, Thatcher.”
Thank fuck for that. With a roar, I push myself as deep inside her as I can, the familiar endorphin rush wrapping around me like a warm blanket as the entirety of the evening breaks like water from a dam.
Within a few breaths, Mila’s lips are on mine again, a languid, appreciative kiss that I want to taste every day for eternity.
“Very few people have ever had that privilege. I hope you know how lucky you are. Now, let me get you down, and we can take a bath.”
Hissing as the lukewarm water hits my sensitive skin, I try to relax.
The drop I now know to expect isn’t the same this time.
I feel drowsy but more aware of my surroundings.
Mila seems to sense that I’m not feeling chatty, though, and gathers my snacks and electrolyte water before joining me quietly in the bath.
“I won’t sit behind you today, since you’re sensitive,” she explains, facing me and scooting as close as she can to feed me a cracker with meat and cheese. “But I do have a cream that will help once we get out. If you feel like it. Otherwise, we can just sleep.”
“I’ll take your hands on me any chance I can get.
” She laughs, but I don’t, and when she notices the serious look on my face, she simply hums and feeds me a grape.
“How do you have a cream for after you beat the shit out of someone? Do you search like flogger cream online? Is there a dominatrix essentials shop?”
She laughs again, a full, throaty thing that makes her throw her head back, and it does more to soothe me after our session than a million baths or snacks ever could.
“There actually are a number of really excellent sites these days, although when I was starting this journey, the internet wasn’t quite so readily available or advanced.
Most of my knowledge and product references come from people who taught me, almost always at clubs or workshops.
It was mostly word of mouth then, a friend of a friend would send you somewhere, or—”
“Clubs? In real life? I thought those were just in books and movies.”
Based on her raised brow, I’ll be getting spanked again for interrupting, but I don’t even care. Maybe I’m a bit of a brat. And she just glossed over the word clubs as if it was common knowledge.
“Yes, clubs. As I said, mostly word of mouth. The ones that are worth going to have high standards for membership, and it’s often a cost barrier for people just looking for a thrill.
Of course, having money doesn’t mean someone can play well with others or have a moral code.
That’s what background checks and stringent recommendation requirements are for. ”
She’s fully captured my interest now, and even when we get out of the bath, I keep asking questions. It’s distracting me from the soreness from the flogger, even as her gentle hands applying the cream threatens to put me to sleep.
“So there isn’t necessarily one that offers everything?”
“No, it really just depends. Some are much more geared toward people who want to share or find swaps. Others are more so for things that can’t be as easily organized without the help of the club management like orgies, hunter/prey parties, gloryholes, reverse gloryholes, and dark rooms. Things like that. ”
“Dark rooms?” I groan as she rubs into my instep, having finished her bruise cream application and treating me to a full-body massage.
“Basically an orgy in the dark. You can’t see anything, so everyone operates on feeling alone to grope, penetrate, etc. Ideally, you leave never having seen who you sucked or fucked.”
“Are those the clubs you prefer?”
“You know me well enough to know the dark room is a huge no from me. The places I enjoy certainly feature things like that from time to time, but I tend to enjoy bondage demonstrations, themed rooms for private play, exhibition areas, and places where submissives or pets can just exist as themselves.”
“What do you mean?” I’ve flipped over, and after a hard week of practice, her strong hands on my quads are therapeutic and heavenly.
“One club in London is just a fine dining establishment with multiple Michelin stars. People can bring their submissives and have them eat nude and on the floor, or nude in their lap. Masters can leash their pets and bring their dog bowls to eat out of while enjoying good conversation, food, and wine. There’s no intercourse allowed at all. ”
“Hmm…ugh, that feels good. You’re a saint.”
“Not sure I’ve ever heard that one before.” She laughs. “Demon, certainly. Succubus, a time or two.”
By the time she pulls a blanket over both of us, I’m almost asleep, but intrigued.
“What would you do with me in a club?”
She thinks for a long moment before answering.
“It would depend on what you were comfortable with, solnyshko. I could string you up with more intricate patterns than before and use you as a mannequin for a Shibari workshop. I could edge you to within an inch of your life and let everyone watch you struggle and sob for me.”
“Hmm…” She’s playing with my hair, and I’m drifting fast.
“Or I could leash you and display you but not let anyone touch you. Just parade you around like my little toy, because you are. Mine.”
I try to reply, but I’m already halfway into dreamland, and I’m not sure if I heard her right, anyway. But if I did, that’d be alright with me.
She can do anything she wants to me if I’m hers.