Night of the Senses Read online

  His sub.

  “It can also be for punishment. If it’s meant as punishment, it will usually be delivered perfunctorily. I will never beat you when I am angry. It will be meant to reinforce a lesson. Generally you will not be beaten without first being made aware of the rule.”

  “Generally?”

  “There are things I expect you to know without being told. Common sense. Or if you’re trying to goad me.”

  She didn’t think she’d do that.

  “Most times, I will warm you up before beating you, to get the blood flowing to the area I intend to torture.”

  She squirmed again.

  He smacked her again. “It will minimise bruising and lessen the actual pain. There are times you won’t be warmed up.”

  Being upside down, the blood rushing to her head, wasn’t nearly as romantic as it sounded in her books. His muscles beneath her stomach were hard. There wasn’t a single thing comfortable about this.

  “I’ll give you five smacks to warm you up.”

  She nodded.

  She gasped when he landed the first one. It stung. Good God, this was a warm up? She wasn’t sure she’d survive it.

  By the time he’d spanked her five times, her entire arse felt like it was on fire.

  She whimpered and tried to wiggle away.

  “Right,” he said.

  Instantly he reached across her, capturing her right arm with his left hand and using his arm to push down on her back, keeping her completely ensnared. “That is an example of when I might punish you without you being aware of the rule first. Common sense says you don’t try to escape when your Master is chastising you.”

  Trapped, she stilled.

  “See how red your buttocks are, and your upper thighs, as well.”

  Mercifully, she couldn’t see her exposed pussy.

  “I’m adding three strokes to your punishment, for a total of eight spanks. Tell me to begin.”

  Was there no end to her humiliation?

  “Please, Master, punish your sub.”

  “And for that, Marnie, I’ll deduct one of the strokes. Count them off.”

  He spanked her hard. If he hadn’t been holding her, she would have run away.

  “Count?” he prompted.

  “One!”

  “Ask for another.”

  “Mas-ter!”

  “Ask.”

  “Please, Master.”

  He delivered a second brutal slap right across the middle of her butt cheeks.

  She arched her back. He was unyielding. “Two.”

  “Why are you being spanked?”

  “Sub is being punished.”

  “Why is the sub being punished?”

  “For having an orgasm without Master’s permission.”

  “Will you do that again?”

  “No. No, Master. Sub promises to never break that rule again.”

  “Good girl.”

  Did that mean he’d let her off the hook and stop spanking her?

  His third slap kissed the side of her right buttock.

  “Three, Master.”

  “Do you see how red your arse is?”

  She nodded, blinking back tears.

  “Do you feel my cock against your stomach? Can you tell how hot I am for you?”

  Before she could answer, he delivered the next stinging slap.

  “Again, in the mirror. Look at your body, look at me. See how much I desire you.”

  Unbelievably as she shifted, she realised her pussy was wet. Despite her protests and the pain, the spanking aroused her.

  “How many strokes have you taken, sub?”

  “Four.”

  “Spread your legs a bit more.”

  She had to fight her own instinct for self-preservation.

  He slapped her hard, between the legs, scorching her pussy.

  “Fuck!” She gasped.

  “Hated that?”

  As the intensity of the blow diminished, heat suffused her.

  “Marnie?”

  “It was… It hurt…”

  “But…?”

  She couldn’t form a coherent sentence.

  “I can smell your arousal,” he told her softly, capturing her gaze in the mirror.

  “It’s not possible.”

  “And if this were a pleasure beating, you would have come when I slapped your cunt.”

  She blinked at his coarse language.

  “How many was that?”

  “Five.”

  “Two more,” he said. “Across your upper thighs.”

  She yelped as she counted off the final two punishing spanks.

  “A weekend of firsts,” he told her. “Your first public scene, and your first punishment.” He slowly released her. “Kneel.” He helped her into position. He pushed back her hair from her face. With exquisite tenderness, he wiped away her tears, then kissed her forehead.

  She nearly came undone.

  “You’re an excellent sub.” When she dragged her breathing back under control, he added, “Now, into the bedroom, and take the lube with you.”

  That dreaded lube. Surely he was making her carry it around as a form of torture.

  “When I join you, I want to find you on all fours.”

  In her bedroom, she used the few moments of solitude to compose herself. This experience with Master Zachary was everything she could have hoped for, everything she’d yearned for. And yet…unbelievably, it was so much more, taking her to places she hadn’t dreamt of.

  His touch, his demands, him making her watch, exploiting what he knew to be her weakness for voyeurism. Under his dominance, she was sometimes able to forget her issues with her body, and instead, like he would say, get out of her own way. When she did, she enjoyed every moment of the experience. She never wanted it to end.

  She got into position. Thankfully, the floor was carpeted and not as difficult to kneel on. She took a few steadying breaths, intent on being the sub he wanted.

  When he entered the room, her heart skipped a beat. So much for the steadying breaths. When he was near, she lost her ability to have a rational thought.

  She wondered if she’d ever get to the point where she had no reaction when he entered a room.

  He carried the mirror. He leant it up against a wall. Then he took down the mirror she had hanging over her dresser and placed that one at an adjacent angle.

  “Turn a bit,” he instructed, “so that your arse faces the mirror.” He indicated the one to her right. “I want your arse towards the mirror.”

  Her body trembled from the pain, and from the emotions she didn’t know how to sort out.

  “Tell me what you see,” he urged.

  She sought his gaze in the mirror. From this position, she saw her reddened buttocks. “The sub’s arse has been well beaten, Master.” And her thighs were thicker than she wanted, but she didn’t add that part. “I…she…can see the shape of Master’s handprint.”

  He waited, arms folded over his chest.

  She wiggled a bit, then, a bit reluctantly, she said, “Sub thinks it looks sexy.”

  “It does,” he agreed.

  His quick smile of approval on his face softened his features, made the jagged scar less prominent, and made her want to please him even more.

  “I’m not finished with you. Present,” he snapped.

  Slowly, having to remember the position, she lowered herself into present.

  “Reach back and spread your abused buttocks.”

  Her skin stung as she parted her arse cheeks for him.

  She felt him squeeze some of that dratted cool lube onto her anus.

  “Don’t break position,” he warned.

  Having been punished once, she wasn’t anxious to repeat the experience anytime soon. She’d much rather Master was pleased with her.

  “I’m going to insert my finger,” he told her. “I’ll be properly lubed, but it won’t be comfortable your first time. I will be pushing past your sphincter muscle. You can make it easier o
n yourself by bearing down.”

  She moved her hips from side to side, silently asking for mercy. He gave none.

  She felt his fingertip slide in a bit.

  Good God! How big was his finger?

  He worked it out, then back in, a little deeper, then a little deeper.

  “Bear down.”

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she did.

  He slipped past his first knuckle, and he continued on until he was buried to the hilt.

  She tried to get away, but he placed his free arm across her hipbones and drew her back, holding her firmly.

  “Not so bad?”

  “Terrible,” she complained.

  He laughed. “I’m going to finger fuck your arse,” he said. “And you’re going to watch.” He knelt behind her. “Open your eyes, Marnie.”

  She so didn’t want to do this.

  He smacked her left flank. Instantly she opened her eyes.

  In the mirror, she saw her bare pussy lips, her swollen clit, and the way her anal whorl was presented to him.

  “Keep your head on the floor. Keep your arse spread with your hands. Watch.” He pulled out his finger, then he inserted it all the way, his motions, slow and easy. “Quit fighting. Follow my rhythm.”

  She did.

  After a few seconds, it was uncomfortable, but not unbearably so.

  The sight of him entering her arse filled her with shivers. It was so intimate, so naughty. And, oh, so damn hot to watch.

  He stopped for a moment and flipped open the cap of the lube to squirt some gel onto a second finger.

  “Uh…”

  “Position,” he warned.

  Her skin still stinging from his earlier reprimand, she hastily put her head back on the floor and kept her buttocks parted. Wasn’t this akin to a condemned man having to carry his own noose to the hanging?

  “Don’t fight it,” he said. “Just enjoy.”

  “Enjoy?”

  “You’ll get more pleasure out of this than nearly anything else, if you let yourself.”

  “Right.”

  Instead of arguing or correcting her, he continued the pace he’d set earlier, then, without warning, he slipped a second finger beneath the first.

  “I can’t…”

  “Don’t tense.”

  She gasped. But after only a few seconds, she relaxed into it. Unbelievably, she began to enjoy the sensations. All her nerves felt on fire. Her pussy became moist.

  Her hair was wild, her breasts were against the carpet, her back was arched, her buttocks were high. His masculinity served as contrast to her femininity.

  “You’re lovely, Marnie.”

  In that moment, she believed she was.

  An orgasm began to unfurl. “Master…” She started to whimper. “I…”

  “You may not come.”

  She tried to move away from his penetrating touch. There was no other way to avoid the orgasm and being in trouble.

  He touched her clit lightly, and she moaned. Then he applied more pressure and she screamed.

  “Don’t come,” he warned again.

  “No.” She took deep breaths; she tried reciting the alphabet backwards, anything to distract herself.

  He stopped his motions, and he removed his fingers.

  She dragged in huge draughts of air.

  “I think you’re ready,” he said.

  “Ready?”

  “For your first butt plug.”

  Chapter Six

  “Remain in position.”

  He left the room and she seriously considered getting up and locking herself in the bathroom.

  “Don’t even think about it!” he called from the next room.

  Where was it written that Doms were mind readers?

  Her entire nether region felt like it was on fire, from her burning buttocks to her tortured anus.

  He returned a few moments later. He crouched next to her. “I brought this from home,” he told her.

  She stared at the silicone plug. Thankfully it wasn’t as big as she’d feared it might be. Compared to the one Master Theodore had inserted into Susanna’s equally abused rear, this was nothing. This one couldn’t even stretch her as wide as his two fingers had.

  “You had it in your coat in hopes I’d agree?”

  “I had it in my coat pocket in full belief that you’d surrender to what you really want.”

  Her mind spun. How was it possible that he knew her so well? “And that’s you, right?”

  “Me.” His grin made her smile. “You’re a sub, Marnie. We both know it.”

  Without conscious thought and without being consumed with the knowledge of all her body’s flaws, she arched her back a bit.

  “Beautiful. But later, I won’t forget, you’ve added three stripes for each time you’ve referred to yourself in the first person. I’ve been counting.”

  “You’re merciless.”

  “Truly.” He went into the bathroom to wash the plug. “Hold your position just a bit longer.”

  The waiting, the anticipation, the uncertainty was as big of a mind-fuck as their actual play, she realised. There wasn’t anything about BDSM that didn’t heighten anticipation and keep her on edge.

  “Practice taking deep breaths,” he coached from the bathroom. “It will keep your body more relaxed and stop your mind from playing games with you.”

  Easier said than done when it was your arse sticking up in the air waiting for a chunk of silicone to be inserted.

  Still, she did as he instructed.

  After a few seconds, it actually seemed to help. She was still aware of her vulnerability, but her mind wasn’t running away from her.

  “Keep your eyes open and watch me.”

  He crouched near her head and squirted lube on the plug. Her mouth suddenly dry, she swallowed.

  “Now, watch in the mirror.”

  He got on his knees behind her and placed one strong hand on the small of her back. His touch was forceful and sexy. She wanted to be his.

  “This will feel different than my finger.”

  She nodded.

  “Again, bear down when you feel the pressure.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut at the intrusion.

  “Open your eyes!” He smacked her arse.

  She gasped against the onslaught of the pain. But she opened her eyes and watched the not-so-slender plug disappear up her most private place. Then the fattest part was all the way in, and he continued pushing until the base was against her skin. “Master!”

  “See how beautiful that looks, my lovely sub?” He moved a mirror a few centimetres so she had a better view. “Sexy.”

  “Strange,” she countered.

  “How does it feel?”

  “It’s a bit maddening.”

  “Meaning?”

  “It makes me…I mean, it makes the sub…” She saw his nod of approval in the mirror. Then he captured her gaze and refused to release it. More than anything, the way he regarded her, paid attention to her, noted her every reaction made her very much aware of being a submissive to his Dom. A man had never demanded so much from her; a man had never given so much of himself to her. “It’s hard to stay still,” she said. “It makes the sub feel even more submissive.”

  She licked her lower lip. This would be the most raw and honest confession yet. “I want, she wants, more.”

  “You’re horny?”

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  His blue eyes seemed to darken. “Should we do something about that?”

  “Yes!”

  “Beg for it,” he said.

  “Please.”

  “That’s not begging.”

  For her, it was.

  “Tell me what you want, Marnie. Tell me how you want it.”

  She’d told men before what she wanted, but this was different. He wouldn’t turn off the lights, wouldn’t let her hide.

  “Please, Master. The sub wants to have an orgasm. The sub wants…” Marnie paused, then found her courage. “Th
e sub wants Master’s cock. The sub wants Master’s cock in her mouth, in her pussy—”

  “Cunt,” he corrected.

  The verbiage was part of it, too, she realised, even though she’d never used such coarse language before. “Cunt,” she repeated in a whisper “The sub wants Master’s cock in her mouth, in her cunt.”

  “Good girl.”

  “She wants Master hard and fast, filling her.” The more she said it, the more she wanted it. The sight of his hand on her back, the erection straining against the front of his jeans. “She wants to see Master’s body. She wants him naked.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “Please, Master.” She kept meeting his gaze. “The sub is hungry for her Master. She wants you. She wants your touch, your possession.”

  “More,” he prompted.

  Surrendering to the inevitable, to being the slave he demanded, she said, “The sub wants her Master to claim her, to make her his. The sub wants Master’s cock and wants to be pleasing.” Taking a breath, she added, “The sub wants to prove what Master already knows…that sub is a natural sub and is Master’s to command.”

  “Kneel up, sub.”

  Chapter Seven

  Zachary thumbed open the button at his waistband. Ever obedient, Marnie watched his every move.

  He’d enjoyed a half dozen subs over the past few years, but none had been as eager to please as Marnie. She had her own natural reluctance, but, like a proper sub, was willing to put aside her own insecurities in order to make him happy.

  And she was.

  Her gaze was on him. Her mouth was parted slightly, as if in invitation. It took all his self-control not grab her and kiss her senseless.

  As he’d told her, BDSM was about control. She had to be able to trust his control. Hell, he had to able to trust his control.

  His hard, insistent cock made that a whole lot more difficult than it usually was.

  He sat on the edge of her bed and started to remove his boots. Her tentative question stopped him.

  “Master? May sub remove Master’s shoes?”

  Damn and hell, how had he gotten so lucky? “Indeed, slave.” He wondered if his own voice betrayed his emotion. He’d wanted a woman who understood the subtle nuances of sensual servitude. Clearly, she did.

  He allowed her to remove his boots, then his socks. Some Doms he knew expected this kind of attention from their subs. He didn’t take it for granted. He appreciated every sincere gesture.