Tell Me - Ashe Barker Page 0,1

her. Once he had her secured he had taken his time removing the corset which she had laced so carefully before leaving her flat. It now lay beside his bag of toys, a brilliant, shimmering pool of crimson. She was next to naked, but her self-consciousness had evaporated quickly, as they both knew it would.

The pinch of nipple clamps, the caress of the collar around her neck, these grounded her, gave her the solid foundation she craved. And Tony’s voice, like liquid lust poured into her soul, just swept her along and carried her with him on this journey.

Thea counted the strokes in her head, picking up where they had left off before she begged for a time out, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. She had enough experience now to recognise the moment her endorphins kicked in to blunt the intensity, to welcome that heady rush that felt like flying but through treacle. She was straining, reaching, almost, not quite…

“Enough.” The sweet whipping stopped, and Tony stepped back in front of her. His expression was stern. She cringed, but still couldn’t stem the words of protest.

“No, not yet. I need more. Sir, please.” Thea shivered, her pussy clenching, her clit swollen and throbbing. So close, so fucking close.

Gentle, firm hands unfastened the buckles securing her wrists. Thea slumped forward to be caught in Tony’s arms. He hauled her against him, holding her for the few moments it took for her legs to regain enough sensation to support her.

“You stopped too early, I was almost there.”

Her petulant tone was not to his liking if the sharp slap to her bottom was any indication. “I decide when you’ve had enough, not you. I’ve warned you enough times about topping from the bottom.”

Thea was contrite instantly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. You know best, I realise that. Thank you Sir.” Despite her desire for more, Thea had no wish to earn a punishment, not in her current delicate, fragile state. She was physically close to her limit, and emotionally strung out to the point where she couldn't think straight. His anger now would be unbearable. She hesitated for a few moments, waiting for his response. Was he displeased?

It would seem not. His arms remained around her body, offering support, comfort, security.

Relieved and reassured Thea attempted to stand upright, damping down the bitter frustration of unmet need, unsatisfied lust. Tony pulled her back against him, turning her now so her shoulders rested against his chest. He cupped her breasts in his hands. Thea gasped, the forgotten nipple clamps now back in sharp focus. Tony chuckled as he pressed his palms against the pebbled nubs, pinched mercilessly in the clover-leaf grips.

“Not done yet, my sweet slut. I think we need something a little more—severe—to satisfy you this evening. Would you agree?”

Thea nodded, her yearning almost palpable, like a living, breathing entity snapping around her ankles, demanding satisfaction.

“The bench. Lay across it.” He turned her in the direction of a spanking bench a few yards away in another part of the dungeon. Thea was oblivious to the presence of other couples engaged in similar play to her own, and to her own near-nakedness as she walked slowly over the warm, polished wood floor. She wore only her thong, as a passing nod to The Wicked Club’s rule forbidding nudity in public areas, and the studded leather collar which Tony insisted on locking around her neck at the start of every scene they played.

Her body was sore, delightfully so, every movement reminding her of what she was, what she craved and why she was here. She reached the bench and draped her body across it, knowing exactly the right position to gain maximum exposure to whatever Tony would offer her next.

She turned her head to see her Dom crouch beside his bag, the rucksack he always used to carry his toys and equipment. He rarely played with anything other than his own personal items, things he knew, and could use with consummate skill. He selected his next implement.

The cane.

A ripple of terrified anticipation spiked through Thea’s nervous system, causing her to jerk on the bench. Tony caught the movement and turned to regard her, his expression stony.

“Will you need me to tie you in place?”

“No, Sir.” Thea bristled a little at the suggestion. She was no newbie, she knew what a caning was like, and she loved the bite of the rattan against the backs of her thighs. Maybe not while it was actually happening, but always afterwards.