Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
She’s impossible and refuses subspace almost willfully, like she’s so desperate to hold onto every second of feeling and sensation.
But I’ll take her there. I’m determined to give her that gift. To take her so far inside her body that she’s able to float out of it.
I withdraw my fingers and quickly wash my hands at a sink in the corner, then return and pick up a soft leather flogger.
“You trust me, so give yourself over to me.” I run the flogger over her ass and then flick it, smacking her bottom with the tresses.
I continue in a rotating infinity pattern, raining down smacks in a pattern that has her ass quickly turning a beautiful pink.
Every couple of minutes, I pause and check her face. I’ve been keeping it light. At this point, I just want the buildup of a slow intensity.
But I think I’m getting where I want to go, because her moans have been getting lower and deeper and her eyes have dropped to half-mast. We’ve been at it for about twenty-five minutes.
Her inhibitions are down. She’s giving in. It’s an almost unconscious process, but for it to work, it requires absolute trust.
I want to prolong it. I’m not nearly ready to let this go, I feel like a fucking conqueror with her so limp and compliant and riding high beneath me, her body a ship I’m carefully captaining.
It’s time to relax for a little now, to prepare for what will eventually come. I massage her ass, rubbing in the sting while not creating any more. Again her moans deepen. I want to record the sound to play back on repeat.
I’m hard as stone but it’s not important right now. I have a job to do and I mean to do it perfectly.
For the next ten minutes, I keep her at altitude by applying a heavier smack with the flogger every minute or so and then continuing with my massage. In truth, I’m as desperate for the contact with her flushed skin as I’m hoping she is. If her satisfied moans are anything to go by, she’s loving every single thing happening to her.
When I check her face next, she looks even further gone and I know it’s time. Higher impact, another intense five-minute push. I switch out the flogger for a cane and start to stripe her ass, up and down.
She jerks and groans with every strike, her body trembling and pussy suctioning and slurping and making fucking pornographic noises around the vibrator as it thrusts in and out of her.
At the end of the five minutes I toss the cane away and pick up the small pocket vibrator, switching it on and moving to her side. I reach underneath her hip, around to her clit.
She jolts and cries out in ecstasy the moment I make contact. I bend over her body and hold onto her ass, one finger curving towards her hole. I want to touch every inch of her possible.
“Break for me,” I whisper, pressing my forehead to her ear. “Break for me and give me everything.”
She howls and shudders as her orgasm breaks, tears streaming down her cheeks in huge rivulets.
“That’s right,” I murmur, bending even closer. “Yes, that’s so good. Don’t hold back. Give me it all.” The whole time I keep mercilessly at her clit and she howls from the bottom of her lungs.
She’s magnificent. I’ve never in my life seen or even experienced such a pure exaltation of pleasure and abandon. But I experience it through her. With her.
I don’t know how long it goes on but it feels like forever, and at the same time, over far too soon.
But when she’s limp and laying crumpled over the bench, I know she’s had enough. I hurry to turn off the machine and slowly, gently disengage it from her drenched, dripping pussy and roll it backwards.
I’ll come back for cleanup and sterilization later.
Right now she’s the most important thing.
Swiftly I untie the soft shibari ropes and free her. She continues lying limp against the bench even though I’ve released her.
Holy shit, I really took her there, didn’t I?
And I know what comes after is every bit as important. Gods, she’s gorgeous when she’s like this. As magnificent as she was howling in the heights of her pleasure, subdued and limp in the aftermath, she glows with a purity that stabs me through the chest.
This is Daphne. My Daphne.
The woman who knocked me off my ass the first time she came strutting down the beach in a red bikini. The woman who laughed with me and teased me and splashed in the water with me all one glorious summer. The woman I held in my arms after her mother died and her world fell apart.
This is Daphne.
The woman I—
The woman I love.
Terror chokes me even as I gather her into my arms like the precious thing she is. She curls into me and her fingers brush my bare face, her touch making me harden all over again. The softest butterfly brush and then her hand drops as if she’s too tired to hold it up.