I wanted to complain, to yell at him not to get me all worked up, then leave me there helpless with no way to satisfy myself, but I knew this was precisely the state he aimed to put me in.

Once he had me bound, he sat at the edge of the bed between my legs. I felt so vulnerable, with my pussy exposed, no way to close my legs. Modesty was nonexistent in our relationship, but I’d grown up with the concept so ingrained in me that it was hard to ignore my wish for it now.

“Close your eyes. Focus on the sensations.”

“Yes, sir.” I had no idea what would come next, but I shut my lids and tried to breathe evenly.

He took one of my feet firmly in his hands and began to massage it. Rubbing the length of my sole, he squeezed and worked my heel, kneaded inside my arch, pressing his thumbs in just the right spot. I relaxed completely, savoring his touch. He massaged the balls of my feet, then wiggled each toe, stimulating them in places I didn’t even know were there. He blew on my little piggies and rubbed the crevices between them. It felt like I’d died and gone to heaven. Then he gave the same amazing treatment to my other foot.

When he finished, he must have picked up the wheeled toy I’d first chosen because, even though I didn’t dare open my eyes, I felt the cold steel run up the bottom of my foot then up to my thigh. He ignored my pussy, but dragged the wheel over my breast, and up to the top of my head via my hairline.

“Is that what they call a Wartenberg wheel?” I asked.

“It is. Do you like it?”

“So far…”

“Yes, it can be evil as well. It depends on how you use it.”

He raked it down my other side, down my other breast, over my abdomen, down my inner thigh, ending at the bottom of my foot. Each place he’d rolled it over had awakened and it invigorated my skin.

Suddenly something cold and wet entered my vagina. A hard object, definitely not human. I stiffened, trying to keep myself from peeking. “What is that?” My voice trembled.

“A nightstick, actually. Not as pliable as a dildo, I know, but it will suffice for now. If you’re a good girl, you might earn the real thing.”

“A real dildo or a real cock?” I asked, half joking.

“My cock.”

A shiver of anticipation zipped through me. God how I wanted to have his cock inside me now, though my body did seem to be responding to the current intruding object as he fucked me with it. I tried to relax again, to focus on the fucking. I was happy that it was my Master doing it, pleasuring me…

But my thoughts were interrupted by a vicious roll of the Wartenberg wheel zinging across my breast. This time he dug in deeper, and it hurt. Well, it almost hurt. Confusingly, it felt rather nice at the same time. Another zinging combination of pleasure and pain.

He fucked me with the nightstick while he wheeled that baneful tool over my nipples one at a time. I tugged at my arm restraints and groaned through tight lips.

“Relax. It will hurt less if you do.” He finally stopped with the wheel, but as soon as he did, I felt the whack of what must have been the crop on one breast, then the other.

“Aye-yi-yi!” I cried out.

“Do you need to be gagged while I abuse your body, sub? If you make too much noise the hotel is going to send someone up here, and I don’t think you want me to explain to them that there’s a naughty little schoolteacher in here who needs her cunt fucked relentlessly, but that she has to earn it first. Or do you?”

I shook my head wildly. I must be quiet. There was no way I wanted him to explain that to anyone!

“Then be silent.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, and he went back to swatting my breasts with the crop. Each blow stung, and I was certain my skin was bright pink by now.

Then as quickly as he’d started, he stopped.

The “cock” in my pussy slowed. He dipped a finger into my cunt and smeared my juices on the rest of my lips, coating me with my sweet nectar all the way to my clit. I felt my folds being spread apart, and to my dismay I felt the mean little pricks of the wheel rolling slowly, menacingly, across my clit.

I let out a shriek.

“What’s your safe word?” he asked.

“Bluebird,” I managed through gritted teeth.

“Do you need to use it?”

“No!”

“You sure?”

“Yes, sir. I’m sure.”

He rolled the wheel back and forth over my clit, making me jerk against my bonds. Growls erupted from my body, but then his tongue lapped gently at my tortured nub, and I felt tears well up in my eyes. The combination of rough play mixed with tenderness—that was what captured me, bound me to him. It wasn’t just about pleasure and pain. It was about the sweetness of the juxtapositions of mean and thoughtful, hateful and loving, giving and receiving. For a split second it was as if he’d opened the door to the deep, dark secret of the world. Then it was gone as fast as it came when he rolled that freaking instrument over my pussy again.

I howled, which got a washcloth shoved in my mouth, and just when I was about to utter a muffled safe word, he put his tongue to work again, licking and sucking me. The more he pleasured me, the more I forgot about the pain. All that was left was that ultrasensitive little bud and him. He pulled my clit into his lips, rolled me around in his mouth, released me, then licked me up and down again. Finally, using the tip of his tongue, he located my most sensitive button and made teeny circles around it until finally every muscle in my body tensed and I collapsed.

“Take a breath, but don’t worry. I’m not done with you yet.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Sunday morning, I awakened to a tray of bacon and eggs as well as pancakes, served by my beloved Sir along with tall glasses of frothy mimosas.

I stretched like a cat, the corners of my mouth stretching wide across my face. “Breakfast in bed?” I asked. “You’ll spoil me.”

He tilted his head. “You’ve earned it this weekend, my dear. You’ve been quite the compliant submissive.”

That thrilled me. “I really want to please you, sir.”

“Well, you have. Now eat up your breakfast. I have many more things I want to do to you, and we’re running out of time.” He speared a bite of eggs on a fork and offered it to me.

“Yes, sir.” I sat up and, not bothering to cover myself, took the bite he fed me.

After we finished breakfast and he’d gotten rid of our room service tray, he asked me to lie on the bed spread-eagled again, but this time on my tummy.

I did as he asked, and I felt the fwap of several silky fingers landing on my skin. The impact made a light thud as it hit me. “What’s that?” I asked.

“It’s a flogger,” he said, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him wield it in a deliberate arching motion before its tails landed on my rear end.

“Awesome! I’ve wanted to know what those felt like. I kept seeing people use these online and I was dying to try one.”

“I know. And, while they aren’t as useful for cyber, I knew you would enjoy getting acquainted with this one.”

“What’s it made out of?”

“Leather. All right, enough talking, girl. Silence. I want you to focus on what I’m doing.”

As much as I hated to be shushed, he was right. I needed to focus my attention on the delicious blows he delivered to my arms, back, legs, and tush. The rhythm of his strokes mesmerized me, and when he was finished he almost had to wake me up again.

He rolled me over. “What did you think?”

Gazing up at him lazily, I managed, “I loved it.”

“Each swat triggered a pain receptor in your brain.”

“But it didn’t hurt that badly.”

“That’s because I made sure to straddle the line between pain that makes your brain say ‘Danger! Danger!’ and pain that barely gets the brain’s attention. The goal is to make your brain release endorphins. That’s what we want.”