Free A Hard Bargain by Ashe Barker Page B

anticipated the cruel sting of the lash to strike me where it would hurt the most, he turns it into the most delicate caress.
    “Come now, little sub.”
    His voice is soft, a command, but murmured so quietly I have to strain to hear him. But it’s enough, and as he draws the soft strand once more across my clit, I explode. Or implode. Whatever, it just about knocks me senseless as the powerful punch of orgasm whips through me. I would have hit the floor but for the restraints holding me in place. He continues to stroke my clit, caressing me. He’s skillfully drawing out the moment, stretching it impossibly. I now know why he forced me to wait. He knew the impact of anticipation, he appreciated how much better this would be for letting it build. I’m shaking with the sheer, intense force of the sensations rocking my body, shuddering under this onslaught which seems to be endless. Deliciously, mind-blowingly, superbly endless.
    And even when the shudders and pulsing energy start to subside, he starts them up again by slipping his expert fingers into me once more. He twists his hand, stretching and caressing me to bring me back up to melting point again, just to hold me there for a few moments before angling his fingers to hit that spot and send me hurtling back into orbit. He’s relentless, but generous too. Both demanding and giving, playing me expertly. I’m gasping for breath, dragging oxygen in when I can remember to, but mostly just caught up in existing in this tiny world which now comes down to my pussy, my clit and his beautiful fingers doing their work. The pain in my breasts, the sting of the lash, every other sensation is driven from me by the intensity of what’s happening at this moment, in this moment. There’s nothing else.
    It seems an eternity before my body is even remotely mine again, before the swirling, commanding grip of orgasm gives way to the sweet aftershocks—the more gentle, intimate pulsing of grateful surrender. I start to become aware of my surroundings once more, and of the pain elsewhere in my body. I want, need, to be released from this cross, the clamps removed, but I can’t ask him.
    I don’t need to, he knows.
    “I have you, you’re safe. I’m going to take the blindfold off first…”
    I blink as the light, dimmed though it is, hits my eyes. He cups my chin, smiling at me, and I smile back. He’s so beautiful, so damned beautiful. He kisses my mouth, sliding his tongue quickly past my lips to caress and explore. I feel…precious, valued, cared for. He lifts his head, regards me ruefully as he drops his hand to cup my left breast.
    “It’ll hurt when I take these off, but I’ll help you with that. On a count of three, first the left, then the right. Are you ready?”
    I nod, trusting him.
    “One. Two. Three…”
    On the third count I rear back. Searing pain grips me momentarily when he releases the clamp biting into my left nipple, and the blood flow rushes into the hard, distended bud. Then, just as suddenly, the pain’s gone. The tender tip is once more held, pressed, sucked hard as he drops his head and takes it between his lips, using his tongue to press my tortured, delicate nipple against the roof of his mouth. Once in control he releases the pressure slowly, allowing me time to adjust. God, where did he learn tricks like this? Long moments pass, and I’m still again, quiet, relaxing as he helps me back.
    “Now the right one, okay? One. Two. Three.” He repeats his clever trick, squeezing my nipple hard in his mouth, only relaxing the pressure little by little to restore the blood flow in easy stages.
    At last, I’m there, and he lifts his head, one eyebrow raised in query. I nod my confirmation, I am well. Bending, he retrieves the nipple clamps and weights from the floor where he tossed them and hands them to Frank who has appeared behind him. Frank accepts them and the discarded blindfold. He’s already holding a brown suede flogger, which I assume was