Free Love Beat by Flora Dain

the chains for support. They swing and clank, making it awkward to stand still. He watches calmly while I strain to balance, tensing every muscle.
    At last he reaches for my other ankle, pulls it wide and clips it to another ring. Arching my feet, I’m spread wide and helpless.
    He walks slowly around me, eyeing me critically. “I think we’ll spice this up a little.”
    He takes something out of his pocket—a soft black sleep mask. He slips it over my eyes, instantly blotting out the light. As my senses sharpen I become aware of the sounds of my own body, the rush of blood in my ears, the insistent private pulse of arousal deep between my legs that matches the drum of my heartbeat.
    I’m making my own music. It’s strangely soothing.
    But if this is music I’m just the rhythm section. The melody is all him—the heavenly scent of his skin, whisper of his fingers on mine, the warm sigh of his breath as he runs his hands lightly over me, his electric touch making me shiver.
    He leans close, his breath hot on my neck. It sends tremors all down my spine. “Have you any idea how beautiful you look at this moment?”
    He finds me beautiful? Is this a good thing?
    Moisture trickles down my back in a thin line. “Did you really try to give this up?”
    He strokes my tense, quivering flank. “Yes.” His low murmur caresses me like velvet. “When I saw you on the replays your reaction intrigued me. From that moment I’ve wanted to see you like this. So yes, I gave it up. At first it was easy. Once I’d got you into my head nobody else came close. And guess what? Now you’re here of your own free will.”
    He kisses my thigh then pulls away and slaps me hard, making me yelp.
    My mind races. “I suppose you want revenge?”
    Of course he does. How stupid I’ve been. And now he’s got me right where he wants me.
    “Revenge?The dish best served cold? Oh no. I want something much more interesting. I want something hot. ”
    “What’s that?”
    He laughs softly. “If we do this right you’ll find out soon enough. And by then you’ll want it too.”
    At that instant there’s a movement in the air around me, and I feel his head between my thighs, his breath on one leg and the faint brush of his hair against the other. His breath is hot on my skin as he leaves a trail of soft kisses along each side. Tiny flames sparkle all through me as he draws achingly close to my splayed slit.
    The air around me cools like he’s stepped away then, without warning, a flogger lands on the back of my leg.
    It’s not the springy beaded one. The strands of this are long and smooth. They curl lovingly around my leg before slithering away, their snap and their sensuous slide sounding the sweet, piercing top notes in the music we’re making.
    I cry out in surprise and it lands again, this time on my belly. It falls again and again, sometimes soft, occasionally harsh—excruciating and exquisite. Each new touch is a shock as my sensitive skin tries to decide if it stings or soothes.
    Soon it hardly matters. I’m twitching all over, fizzing with arousal from both its sting and its caress. I begin to tremble.
    His fingers slide into me, sending steady, pulsing bolts of arousal all through me. A trickle of juice, warm as honey, runs down the inside of my thigh and I hear him draw in a labored breath.
    This affects him too.
    “You’re very wet and swollen now. Does this arouse you, Tunis? Tell me.” He sounds husky with emotion, almost hoarse.
    I gasp as the whip lands again, close to my nipple. It’s barely a tap, but I jerk at the shock.
    “I said tell me.”
    “Yes. Yes—it does.”
    It lands again, harder this time, on my still-tender bottom.
    “It does— what ?”
    “It does—S ir.”
    It goes on, light, teasing—but relentless. Sometimes the blows whisper over my skin like silk, sometimes they sting. Each one sends a jolt of electricity straight to my groin, too sharp to ignore, too light to make me come.
    I’ve no idea