After that, he grabs one of the pillows and pushes it underneath my belly and pulls it down slightly, raising my pelvis and ass higher. When I look back at him, he’s checking out his handy work and I see the gears turning in that gorgeous head of his. His mean streak is bubbling just underneath the surface as his eyes dilate beneath his long dark lashes. He licks his lips and strokes himself all the while just standing and watching me, not saying a word, and I’m getting impatient and wetter with each passing second.
Dylan reaches for my hairbrush and kneels between my spread legs. As he runs the bristles across my ass cheeks, I wince from the prickly sensation. Then he draws the brush down and over my inner thighs, down my calves and across the soles of my feet, making me jerk from the ticklish and slightly painful feeling. My toes curl and I moan out.
“Don’t move. I won’t say it again,” Dylan snarls.
My sadistic Dom is now present and I’m fully aware of the seriousness of his threat. He moves up behind and on top of me, kissing my neck tenderly while he runs the bristles over my shoulder blades and spine with more pressure than before. The feeling of his warm, damp breath on my neck in contrast to the stinging on my back is tantalizing. My body doesn’t know whether to wither or blossom from the pleasantly painful assault.
Just when my body relaxes and my breathing slows, Dylan brings the flat side of the wooden brush down onto my bottom swiftly and with force. I bury my face in the bed and shriek out. Sweet baby Jesus, that felt amazing. My buttock blazes with heat and starts to throb. I don’t have time to process the pain when Dylan smacks the other cheek equally as hard. Keeping my face hidden, I yell out my acceptance and bite the sheet underneath me, wanting to tear at it and shred it like a wild animal from the searing pain. Concentrate, Isa.
Endorphins start to build in the soles of my feet and a warm feeling washes over me. I take a deep breath in through my nose and blow it out my mouth, trying to calm myself. Yes, that’s better. My ass is on fire, but it feels dirty and delicious. I remain still while my sadistic lover persecutes my backside over and over with smacks varying from light to hard, my ass jouncing and jiggling with each subsequent smack. Dylan runs his hands over my bottom gently, running his fingers up my spine. Just as I become accustomed to his soft touch and my heart rate slows, he paddles my upper thighs and the warm sensation of an orgasm builds in my throbbing Ms. Kitty.
“Beg for it, Isa. Tell me you want to be punished,” he murmurs in a deep hushed voice.
Whatever Sir wants, Sir gets. “If it pleases you, Master, punish me,” I whine out as I push my ass up, wanting more.
“I told you not to move,” he roars.
Dylan drops the brush on the bed and uses his bare hand, the skin-to-skin contact sending darts of electrifying pleasure throughout my body. The bed dips next to me and I hear rustling as Dylan prepares his next method of torture. Suddenly, something hot and liquid is dripped down my ass crack. Every muscle in my body contracts from the intense heat and my eyes well up.
Holy experimental sex toy, what is that? Dylan always has something strange up his sleeve and I can’t make out what the sticky concoction is. The gooey unknown substance pools in my puckered crevice, but Dylan spreads my cheeks wide and hungrily licks it up. The slurping sounds of his tongue in my ass make me squirm with anticipation, but I don’t dare ask what it is he’s licking up so eagerly for fear of his reprisal. Dylan has told me on more than one occasion that the sound of my voice distracts him, so I’ll just keep my mouth shut. The smell of maple and vanilla drifts past my nose and it’s then that I realize what the sticky liquid is that Dylan’s licking at. He pours more hot syrup down my spine and I cringe from the sweltering heat. He laps that up, too, and quickly soothes it with ice, letting the melting cube drip down my ass and back. It feels fantastic and soothing, and my panting begins to slow. I concentrate on my Master’s breathing and movements, and my own heartbeat in my ears. I love him so much and I want him to be pleased with my acquiescence and total submission.
I’m purring softly, yearning to be fucked. Dylan lies next to me and starts brushing my hair, his engorged prick pressing against my thigh. I turn my face to the side and gaze at him dreamily. He’s smiling devilishly at me and I’m not quite sure what to make of his expression. I watch him cautiously, knowing that my sadistic Master isn’t done playing with me yet. His eyes betray his need to give me more pain and I wait patiently until he decides to give me more.
“You belong to me, Isabel,” he says out of nowhere.
He’s not telling me something I don’t already know.