Free The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotica by Barbara Cardy Page B

surprise than pain, and balled her hands into fists. I could feel the tension, her every muscle taut with the
desire to flee. But she stayed. The next few lashes were lighter, just a sting on her ass, then I surprised her with faster, harder lashes, alternating from one ass cheek to the other. Her
breathing changed, her gasps following the rhythm of the whip. When I stopped, she wiped away a tear with the back of her hand.
    “Pull up your skirt.”
    She stayed bent over the bed but reached behind her with both hands and pulled up the skirt, bunching it around her waist. I smiled at her choice of a black thong, made mostly of lace, and so
delicate that it begged to be torn. I ran the riding crop up between her legs and followed the thin string of the thong between her ass cheeks. I caught one string of the thong with the end of the
whip and twisted, then tugged it. She understood and reached back with both hands to push the thong down. When she had pushed it just below her ass, I slapped her hand lightly with the whip to stop
her. Her skin was already pink from the earlier lashes, but I spent a few minutes slowly whipping her bare ass until it was bright red, the thong around her thighs acting not as a restraint, merely
as a reminder that she was not to move away from the pain.
    Without any warning, I thrust a finger into her cunt. She was wet, as I knew she would be, but wetter than even I had imagined so soon into her submission. She whispered, “Please . .
.”
    “Are you still a virgin?”
    She tried to laugh but it came out more as a sob. “No.”
    “But has anyone fucked you?” I asked quietly.
    Her whole body froze, her “yes” barely a whisper.
    “Are you sure?” I asked, letting her feel the thick riding crop handle parting the lips of her pussy so that she knew I wouldn’t ask again before I fucked her. Her
“yes” sounded even less convincing the second time. Slowly, I dragged my wet fingertips from her cunt up to her asshole. I let my fingers rest there a moment, enjoying the sensation of
her sphincter muscles spasming in anticipation of pain.
    “No,” she whispered, and I could tell she was begging me not to ask.
    “Has anyone fucked you up the ass?”
    She just shook her head. I stood her up then, and told her to remove the rest of her clothes except her heels. I opened the window seat lid and pulled out everything I needed.
    Bending her back over the bed, I drizzled a few drops of lube down the crack of her ass. “This is mine, then,” I said making small circles around her asshole with the tip of one
finger. “Do you understand? Mine to do with as I please.”
    “As you please,” she echoed in acquiescence.
    For a few minutes, I did nothing more than tease her asshole. But each time I felt her relax a little, I increased the pressure until I heard her first reluctant moan. “That’s
right,” I murmured, pushing the first ring of the butt plug into her. There was a sharp intake of breath, and her knees buckled for a moment.
    “Say it,” I commanded her, my voice more stern than before.
    “I don’t know . . .” She hesitated, her voice muffled by the bed linens.
    I pushed the butt plug in to the second ring and she lifted her head, her back arching, and cried out in pain. I waited. When she had caught her breath, she managed only another “Please .
. .”
    “Please what?” I replied, aroused by how sure I was of her answer.
    “Please . . . fuck me.”
    I trailed my hands gently from her neck, down her back, then over her ass. “Say it.”
    “Please fuck me in the ass,” she groaned.
    I moved in close to stand against her, my body steadying hers. She took a deep breath, and released it raggedly between her clenched teeth as I pushed the butt plug in to the hilt.
    “Oh, God,” she shuddered in pain, and then said again, “Oh, God,” with something more like surprise.
    “Get on the bed, lie on your back.”
    She moved awkwardly, the butt plug still buried deep