Free Rich Pickings by Ashe Barker

open as I stare at the ceiling, but I don’t scream. That was harder, but the pain was less. I feel strangely welcoming of the next and final blow, wishing it wasn’t the last. Just as I’m beginning to love the sharp intensity of the beads striking my back and shoulders, to crave it, he’s about to stop.
    “More please.” Is that my voice, my breathy whisper?
    “One more, then we stop. With the flogger at least. I have lots more planned for you, though, greedy little sub. Breathe.” His voice is all Dom, stern and unrelenting. There will be no extending this experience, no point asking again.
    Obedient, I draw in a long, deep breath. The final stroke is excruciating. And wondrous, and uplifting. Liberating. I scream, but whether in pain or mindless joy I have no idea. I’m aware only of pure sensation, clean, sharp white-hot pain, an agony of pleasure.
    I’m hanging on the cross, my body suspended between pain and something else, something only now starting to unfurl. Something deeply satisfying, cleansing, almost spiritual. Even as I’m trying to process what’s happening, what I’m feeling, I sigh as Dan slides his fingers between my wide-spread legs. He strokes my slick, hot pussy tenderly. My wetness is smeared across his fingertips, and he spreads it everywhere. He slides upwards, backwards, between my buttocks to my arsehole. Without uttering a word he slips the tip of his finger inside, working the hole as he did yesterday. My resistance is non-existent, and in moments his entire finger is deep inside my arse.
    “Good girl. Now two.”
    I nod, though my consent is obvious. I’m groaning my pleasure, my delight at his gentle but insistent probing, and soon my arse is stretched to accommodate two fingers. He thrusts, and twists his hand to work me even looser before easing a third finger in. Now it’s hard, really difficult. I moan, he’s hurting me. He knows it, and his movements are slow, giving me time to adjust and to accept. I don’t ask him to stop. I want this. I know where this is leading, and I want all of it.
    The discomfort recedes as my arsehole relaxes, the muscles there loosening to accommodate Dan’s fingers. He leans in close to me, his body resting against my smarting, inflamed back as he reaches around me to caress my clit. It’s enough, more than enough. I orgasm instantly, shaking and quivering in the restraints as my body convulses. Dan thrusts his fingers deep, my arse now totally conquered and accepting the intrusion. He finger fucks me hard and sharp, and I’m astonished at how sweet it feels, how erotic. Intimate, profoundly personal, his connection to me emphasized, his possession assured, every other sensation intensified by the deep and unfamiliar penetration.
    My orgasm seems to go on and on, wave after wave of sensual pleasure thrumming through my veins. I shift, seeking more friction, harder, faster, deeper. Dan delivers, and my release soars again, shaking my core and blossoming through my outstretched arms and legs. Even my fingers and toes are tingling with pure delight. It’s carnal, animalistic almost. And the most intensely satisfying experience I have ever encountered. Sex with Dan has always been good, always left me purring, but this is on a different plane. Now, I’m flying.
    At last, at long last, the sensations fade, start to recede. I’m dimly aware that he’s withdrawn his fingers and is unfastening my restraints. His arm around my waist prevents me from collapsing in a heap at his feet. He bends to release my ankles, then lifts me. He places me on the bed, rolling me over onto my stomach. A sharp pat on my bum tells me to stay there. I’m going nowhere in any case.
    The sound of running water from the en suite tells me that Dan’s attention to hygiene is very much to the fore, and I’m grateful for it. He cares, takes responsibility for me. I’m beginning to understand why. This power transfer he talks about means he’s accountable. And I can