Read Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine's Day Stories for Free Online Page A

he said, “there’s no possible chance of you getting away, or moving away, or throwing one of those naughty hands back to impede me.” He took the hands in question and extended them to the edge of the upper platform. Two convenient cuffs appeared, and he buckled my wrists into them. I could rattle the connection point, but that was about it.
    “So, Christine,” he said, leaning down to catch my gaze. “Your safe word is going to be ‘tiramisu.’ Can you remember that?”
    I nodded. I possibly panted.
    “ Yes, Sir ,” he prompted.
    “Yes, Sir,” I said. “I can remember that. But...how hard...?”
    He shook his head. “It’s not a matter of how hard I go. There are a lot of reasons you might need me to stop. A muscle cramp, or some bondage cutting off your circulation. You have a pretty good tolerance for pain, so I doubt you’ll use the safe word because of the intensity of the spanking. But who knows what else will come up?”
    Oh God. He cared . He was taking care of me, and Jesus, he was binding me to kingdom come. Now that my arms and legs were restrained, he produced another strap and cinched it around my waist so I could only squirm an inch or two in either direction. I couldn’t move. I was at his mercy.
    My pussy was on fire.
    “Wow,” I whispered, squirming in the bonds. “This is...wow.”
    “Does everything feel okay?”
    It felt spectacular. I laid my head against the bench and blinked at him. “I’m okay, I think.”
    “Do you feel scared?”
    “Yes. A million times, yes.”
    He bared his straight white teeth at me in a predatory smile. “Good.”
    He crossed to an armoire and swung open the doors. When I’d glanced at that armoire earlier, I thought it might be for an entertainment or gaming system. Nope. Full of spanking stuff. “I get to choose what I use on you today,” he said over his shoulder. “I thought, since you were bound, you might want to try some things that are a little harder to take.”
    Ack. Harder to take?
    He pulled out a thick paddle. The heavier riding crop. The thin, leather-wrapped implement he’d put away the last time. That made me shudder. It looked so black and slender and severe.
    “How...how many...?”
    He returned to me and slapped my ass. “Stop asking how many and how hard. Let me judge that. I won’t make you do any counting today. I just want to play with you, and let you get used to the bondage. I want to see if you like how it feels to have no control.”
    My pussy clenched. Then he growled and ground his teeth with sexual frustration. My pussy, that is, not Mateo. Mateo was cool as a fucking cucumber, as cool as the cucumber in his pants that I wanted to grind on with every word that came out of his mouth.
    For a spanking freak like me, who’d dreamed and fantasized and masturbated to spanking porn for years now, he was saying and doing all the right things. My toes curled and my body moved even though I knew I was at his mercy for the immediate future. He took my restless fingers and made me lace them together atop the platform in a specific, orderly way. Once he was satisfied, he patted my hands, checked my bonds one last time, and went to stand beside the bench. This time, I couldn’t see the implements. I couldn’t tell what order he’d use them in.
    “We’ll start with a warm up,” he said.
    He used his hand for that, and I found it strangely comforting, even though it stung progressively worse with each firm smack. He spread the spanks around, over both my ass cheeks and even down to the tops of my thighs, until every part of my backside felt alive and glow-y. Then, without warning, I felt a sharp flick on my left cheek. I jumped and squeaked, and immediately felt the same lick of fire on my right. He was using the riding crop, delivering quick, sharp bursts of pain to my sensitive skin.
    Each flick of the crop made me more aware of my powerlessness, of the bondage that held me captive on this bench. When he began to flick the