Page 35 of Be Careful What You Wish For

Again and again he struck, squeezing from her the words, ‘Master... I’ve forgotten what the question was!’

‘I was instructing you that you do not cum until I say so.’ He paused, listening to her rapid breathing. Watching the fire in her belly coarse through her veins to redden her skin, knowing she was struggling to hold the rapidly growing feelings inside.

He changed to a Python rubber flogger. Each instrument brought its own particular brand of pain. The trick was to build the sensations in such a way as to create a tsunami of feelings so great, so overwhelming, she wouldn’t be able to hold back the torrent whether he ordered it or not.

Soon it would be the turn of his favourite tools. He was enjoying the session, the bond it was creating between them, and again he wondered if it had been wise to use Shadow to train her. He concentrated often on one type of play when there was so much more to use to tantalise and tease and draw out hidden feelings. Shadow had the tools of his trade. He used his experience well. But perhaps he had served his purpose. They had shared friendship and the common experience of grief, but maybe it was time to move on.

Pandora was writhing on the table. There was a growing sense of urgency. A need was building and would not be denied; at least not for much longer. She was ready for the grand finale, so he replaced the flogger and grasped his ultimate toy.

He held her ready, preparing her with words, yet knowing that words were so inadequate when she would ride the feelings which, in turn, would carry her to some far and distant place within her mind. He wished he could join her, but it was her own space and he would be an intruder. This was a journey she needed to travel alone. It was what he had promised her from the beginning, and there would be other times, and soon, when they would travel there together.

‘Listen now, my sweet...’ He was aware the sensations were already taking her, but he continued all the same, saying it perhaps more for his own benefit than for hers. ‘A pleasurable BDSM experience depends on an experienced Dom or Master and the bottom or slave attaining the correct state of mind. We have achieved both. We are Givers. This day we have served one another well. And there will be other times, and soon... soon.’

With one hand he took firm hold just below her ribs on one side, and gently with the other hand caressed the soreness of her bottom, where the strokes of his favoured instrument would fall.

‘Together we have played the symphony of love. And you need to think of each sensation as a musical note set in our composition, which we have created together. It belongs to us. To this day. Now you are about to take it to another level and experience those different sensations in a medley of mixed emotions, taking you to our grand finale... and beyond.’

She was raising her buttocks towards him, seeking his hands, urging them on, wanting it... needing it... crying out for The One to finally complete the symphony and to make her cum.

‘Remember what I promised from the beginning; it is now time to release the endorphins and to truly make you fly.’

As an accompaniment to his words he was toying with her, playing with the valley between her buttocks, teasing it with the cane. The rattan was made up of three canes in one handle. Sweet! Anything else was too clumpy. Finally this would push her over the edge.

The swish of air was the only warning that came.

Her scream followed.

The endorphin rush h

ad begun. Steadily it had been building even as she entered the room. Now it was time to give it wings, to let it fly free and take her beyond, to experience euphoria.

‘There will be six, six strokes of this very special cane, and on the sixth you can cum. But I think you will be ready for so much more by then.’

Again he brought the cane down hard across her bottom. The sting curdled a further scream, but in that scream was the sound of something else, something far deeper, and he knew with absolute certainty by the sixth stroke she would be gone.

The third stroke was yielded. He knew this was what being a Master was all about. It wasn’t about the power to do this; the control and having someone subservient under him. This was about giving pain, but teaching the recipient how to give in to it, and to understand and know the absolute experience that comes when endorphins kick in. After all, it’s the reason people dice with death in all manner of ways in order to achieve the kind of experience she was experiencing now; base jumpers, white water rafting, sky diving...

‘Four...’ He felt the surge of energy within her.

‘Five...’ Her body was twitching, gyrating.

‘Six...’

She lay still. At peace. Her bottom was like a badge of courage. Her head lolled down over the edge of the table. Gently he stroked her hair. She really was beautiful, and she was his... all his. No one else would have her or mark her or play with her. She was too precious. Too special.

It would take her a while to emerge from the deepest of sub-space where he’d sent her. He worked at the knots which held her, then gently carried her to the sofa, laying her on cushions to rest.

There was now time to settle the remaining loose end before he shared an evening meal with her.

A Loose End

It was cold, dark and dismal. Not a nice place to be. The cage hadn’t been used in a very long while. The room was damp and smelly, but the overriding feeling was one of abandonment, and Shadow didn’t like that at all.

He might not be a big figure, but he was bulky, fit, muscular. Fitting into the cage was like putting a shark in a goldfish bowl. He hadn’t been there more than five minutes and he was stir crazy. He could well understand tigers caged at the zoo, banging their heads against the walls of their imprisonment, hearing the call of the wild, longing to break free.

Richard had taken the warning bell with him. It was usually kept within reach just outside the cage. The lock was secure. The bars thick and unyielding. He couldn’t even sit comfortably, his back wedged tight while his knees were drawn up under his chin. And there was nowhere at all to put his arms except pushed right in close to his body where his movements weren’t just restricted, there wasn’t room for movement at all. Worst of all was that the flogging with the switch had turned him on. Yes, it hurt like crazy; it wasn’t his chosen means of corporal punishment by any means. He’d been flogged before, many times in all different positions and situations, but always with paddles, floggers, crop or cane, or if he was excited enough, one following the other. But he’d never experienced the switch. The bite was similar to a cane, but much more whippy, and it did something to him deep inside. He hadn’t expected such a powerful reaction. His body rebelled, trying to fight against the pain, and yet at the same time was flooded with the overwhelming feelings of satisfaction. He’d been careful not to let it show, but now, trussed up in the cage, he could do sod all about the urge that continued to grind and growl inside him, setting him on edge, needing the act of fulfilment. And that wasn’t good!

His whole body was wound up like a tight spring. He was ready to explode.

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