Her Billionaire, Her Wolf(37)

“Oh yes...please, Master.”

Braze nodded then abruptly got up from the bed to pad barefooted over to a chest of drawers in the relatively limited confines of the sleeping compartment.

From within, he withdrew a series of objects, each still in their clear plastic wrappings.

“I think you’re ready,” he murmured then began to unwrap the cellophane away from something that reminded Sara of a children’s toy. Except that it’s color was ominously black and that it was much larger than a plaything for small hands.

One end was shaped like the top of a bowling pin, relatively narrow in form. Then it grew thicker in a series of stepped diameters, each one larger than the last.

The thing caught the light as Braze turned it in his hands, then he was climbing back across the bed.

“On your hands and knees, slave,” he commanded.

Sara did as she was told, then smiled despite the serious tone of Braze’s voice. She had just heard an intake of his breath as she had brought her bottom up to present herself plainly to him.

“There are no words,” he whispered, but she heard him continue just the same, “Your shape beckons to me the way that it must have been for Botticelli or Raphael. Such exquisite curves, darling girl.”

She felt him moving behind her, then something cold and wet touched her back opening.

It made her shiver and it was not only because of the strange sensation but because she understood that it was but a prelude to other things of which she had yet to learn.

Illicit things. Wrong things.

The thought of it made Sara flush. It might have been with some embarrassment, but the heat she felt was also one that centered itself between her legs and she knew that she was glistening wet with juices that she was helpless to control.

Oh, how she wanted whatever Braze meant to do.

Then she felt something warm and hard press against her. It felt like it could be the thing Braze had in his hands a moment before and it rolled through the lubricant that he had just applied to her back entry, spreading it around with a feeling that quickly had Sara panting.

There was pressure that gradually increased and she willed herself to relax, to not fight the unfamiliar sensation of it. Then, suddenly the butt plug was easing inside of her, stretching her gently open.

The feeling was absolutely bizarre, but that did not stop Sara from pushing back toward Braze.

“Very good,” he said, “Now don’t move.”

He left the bed again. Once more, the sounds of plastic being torn away from something, then he was back again.

Sara felt something tickling her down her spine. Braze drew this new object along her vertebrae, then pulled it up and over Sara’s shoulder to where she could see.

A multitude of black leather strands hung like a horse’s tail from a short handle.

“This is known as a scourge, slave, and was once meant for the worst kinds of punishment. But, for you, and in my hands, we shall make it sing.”

There was no warning. No words to prepare her.

Those many strands of leather crashed into the skin of Sara’s bottom, some wrapping around to her hips, everywhere they touched stinging and hot.

It came again, and again, slowly gaining in force until Sara cried out. It hurt her, of that there was no doubt. But, those strands just as often impacted against the shining plug still in her back passage and the jolt of pleasure there was amazing.

He was relentless, striking her over and over, and Sara could feel when the beast began to surface in the man who mastered her.

The scents of a deep pine forest invaded the room. As before, it seemed as if the air darkened around them, as if they suddenly walked along dark paths and the ground underfoot gave up the rich odors of raw, black soil.

Suddenly the scourge was cast aside and she felt him come to her. Braze eased himself between her legs and she felt his cock slip past her opening, only to rise up and stroke through her folds.

Oh, my God, she thought, then even thinking turned to animal instinct and desire and words meant for humankind escaped her.

His member slipped back and forth through her folds, her juices practically dripping across him. The strokes rippled across her apex with spikes of such intense pleasure that it was like pain, and all the while, the plug rocked with their motions, its rhythm drawing groans from between Sara’s lips.

Braze drew back from her. Perhaps to admire his handiwork, perhaps simply just to admire her.

Then, his cock was at her cleft, pushing into her, then slipping deep, deep inside.

The feeling of him encased within her carried Sara over the edge. Her gasping breaths came up short as she felt him stroke in deep, his entire length running thick and hard, when with a shuddering sigh, Sara’s hands gripped the bedsheets in a white-knuckled spasm.