Page 109 of The Dommes

“Do you understand why you’re here now, Katie?” Ira steps away, opening a drawer nearby. I can’t see what she’s looking for. “Do you understand why you need this?”

I bite my lip until it almost bleeds. “Because I’m ashamed of what I want from you.”

“That’s right. You shouldn’t feel ashamed. You need to have your mind and body purged of this shame you’re carrying around.” The drawer closes again. “Open your legs, my love.”

She called me that again. She called me her love. Does she mean it?

I obey, forcing my legs farther apart and feeling the warm air against the crotch in my corset. Ira undoes the buttons giving her easy access. Soon enough, my ass is exposed, and my opening experiences pleasure for the first time tonight.

If I’m wet, she doesn’t comment on it yet.

Something soft and leathery taps my bare ass. My mind struggles to figure out what it is. Once I feel the broad shape of a crop caressing my skin, I seize, a single word all over my lips.

“Pink!”

She continues to caress me. I have to trust that she heard and understood. “I’m going to smack you until you forget your shame. I’m going to bring you to the brink of immense pleasure. Your punishment is just, Katie.”

“Yes, Mistress…” I bury my face in my hands. “Thank you, Mistress.”

After a quaint chuckle, Ira thwacks me with the crop.

It’s a different pain from her bare hand, which until now is the only thing I’ve experienced. While Ira’s hand is harsh, but intimate, the crop offers such a unique touch and narrow pelt that I’m almost coming from that first thwack alone. Coming! I can barely believe it.

The leather stings. That’s the best way to describe it. An aching, sudden sting that awakens neurons that have never been stimulated before. I brace myself against the ottoman, panting, my moans falling so freely from my lips that I’m sure to get punished for it.

Soreness settles in.

My lips are trembling, and I hold in a sob. When Ira strikes the far side of my ass with the crop – a place yet untouched – I cry out in pure pain. “Pink,” I mutter, squeezing my eyes shut and hoping I don’t have to say the more obstinate word.

I’ve spanked a ton of subs before. Including with a crop. I know how partners react to them. Some people love having those welts cover their asses for a few days. Others sit there screaming, begging, wanting nothing but a hard spanking to bring them to nirvana.

Then there’s me, on the verge of tears.

“Ah, Katie.” Her tender touch on my wounded flesh makes me squirm. “I wish you could see how stunning you are right now. So pink all over.” Her thumb dips between my thighs and toys with my slit. Ira pokes me, sinking that thumb into me to the first knuckle. I gasp. I can’t tell if it feels good or not. I’m so overwhelmed with pain and that deep ache of a spanking that any pleasure I feel is…

Is so fucking good.

“You’re not letting go of your ill-feelings yet. I am not going to stop until I hear you crying out in ecstasy. Then I’ll know you’re ready to obey me for the rest of the night.”

Her hand holds my hip, bringing me against her prosthetic. Oh, fuck. Even through the pain, all I can think about is her sinking it deep within me, fucking me in this position until we both come.

Instead, she moves her hand back and hits me with her spread palm.

That’s it. I accept. She really is going to spank me until I scream for her to stop or I finally give her what she wants.

What I want.

Each strike of her hand or crop, all over my ass, my thighs, and even on top of my pussy, reminds me that I’m here to have this done to me. I willingly walked into this. I knew she was probably going to spank me again tonight. I knew there would be restraints. Pain. Dirty talk. I spent all of last night thinking about it, wishing Ira was there with me so she could whisper her reassurances into my ear.

“It’s okay to want this, Katie. It’s okay to let go of your power. It doesn’t make you weak. It doesn’t mean you aren’t respected. All it means is that you’re human. You need to release your anxieties like anyone else. This is how you want to do it.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” I whimper, wondering if she can hear me over the snap of the stinging crop. You know what? I don’t even feel it anymore. My flesh is so numb that all I get off on is the sound of the leather meeting my soiled skin. My legs shake, trying to keep me up. It’s barely working. I’m about to completely lose it. “I’m gonna come, Mistress!”

Perhaps it’s impeccable timing. Or maybe Ira still has enough of her bearings to hit me once more, a raging sting spreading through my body and making me fucking fuck you holy shit.

She’s not penetrating me. She’s not stroking my clit or pinching a nipple. All Ira has done is strike my ass, and here I am, panting into the ottoman as my thighs shake in orgasm. Wetness covers my thighs in quick, gushing trickles.

I’m already spread, so it’s not hard for Ira to see what has happened.

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