Page 32 of Mischief Mayhem
“You really are amazing,” she murmured. “You know that?”
For one heart-shattering moment, I met her gaze and saw adoration behind it. This wasn’t supposed to be that type of scene. She wasn’t supposed to shower me with pretty words.
Then, she grabbed my chin between her index finger and her thumb, forcing my head to tilt up to face her. “So self-sacrificing. Such a fucking martyr.” Her words had turned angry and vicious, fuck yeah, and the sneer in her eyes hinted it wasn’t good I was those things. “Get up.”
I shoved to my feet like my ass was on fire.
“Go stand in front of the cross.” She nodded toward the metal apparatus, and I went, stretching my arms out and spreading my legs. My muscles trembled when she reached up to attach the restraints, circling the furry cuffs around my wrists before checking the tightness to make sure it wouldn’t cut off my circulation. She squatted behind me to do the same to my legs, and I tightened my thighs to keep from shivering. “Are you cold? You can answer.”
“No, Mistress,” I said, although the winter draft coming in from the window breezed across my flesh and pebbled my nipples. Luckily, I was a grower and a shower, so I didn’t have to worry about my dick shriveling up.
“Hmm.” She dragged her fingertips up the back of my legs, over my ass, and across my spine, her nails adding to the prickling goose bumps. My shoulders shook, and I took a deep breath in through my nose to try to calm my nerves. “Now, I remember you saying something about a cat-o’-nine-tails and clothespins.”
I cleared my throat and nodded, grabbing the top of the cross to brace myself. She hadn’t told me to answer, so I stayed quiet as she walked to her dresser, seemingly exchanging the crop for something else. I couldn’t help the moan that tumbled out when she came back and massaged my shoulders, rubbing her talented palms down my ribs and back up again. I melted into the contact, relishing in how good it felt to have someone else touching me.
The cool kiss of leather straps dangled over my deltoids, drifting from side to side as I firmed my stance.
“Tell me your safeword again.” She leaned in to press her lips against the nape of my neck.
“Full house,” I answered.
“Good boy. Keep it close, just in case.” Cool air rushed in when she stepped back, making me quiver before the hiss of disrupted atmosphere preceded a loud crack. I jumped at the sharp zing on my ass, sucking in a breath because she’d gone zero to a hundred. No warm-up. No preamble. Just right into a five on the pain scale.
Fuuuck me.
The ache that came afterward made me sigh and melt into the X-frame.
“Oh, I think he likes it,” she teased with a giggle.
My heart jumped at the sound of her lighthearted taunt, my balls seizing as she brought the leather straps down on my other cheek, harder this time, making me groan. God, I fucking loved it, and I wanted more. I arched my back, sticking my ass out in invitation, purposely showing her how much I ached for it.
She gave it to me. She alternated soft taps with hard zings that had me panting and sweating much quicker than I would have thought. My cock strained in front of me, leaking precum from the tip, and every time she said something degrading, I almost came all over myself.
“Look at how pink your cute little ass gets,” she said, dragging her nails across my butt in deep scratches that would certainly leave marks. I leaned into it, which only made her laugh. Then, she spanked me. Hard. I gasped and collapsed against the cross, jostling my restraints. “Such a depraved pervert, aren’t you? I bet I could make you come without touching you.”
I blew a small chuckle through my nose, knowing I was moments away from that very thing happening. My dick throbbed painfully, desperate for attention she wouldn’t give it. I’d never felt more out of control than that moment, like I’d have no say over whether I shot spunk all over the place. My fate, and my penis’s, were in her capable hands, and there was no place I’d rather be.
“Let’s see how you like this, huh?” Her boots sounded toward the dresser, and I glanced over my shoulder to see her pulling the top drawer out. She reached inside, returning with a handful of wooden clothespins and a long leather whip with a pink handle.
I gulped and tried not to get too excited, but that went out the door when she circled in front of me and grinned, her eyes sparkling so bright, I thought she might be the one to come in her pants unprompted. She held my stare while she fastened a pin to the skin over my ribs, just under my armpit.
“Ahh.” The groan barreled over my lips, a surge of euphoric agony twisting down that side of my body, making me curl into the zing.
“Too much?” She raised her eyebrows and paused. “Do you need to say something?”
Swallowing against a dry throat, I shook my head and straightened. “No, Mistress.”
“Good boy.” She smiled and added another just under the first one. Then a second and a third. The pinch stung at first in a delicate, passionate way, but then dissipated when she went to the other side and did the same thing. She glanced down at my nipples, running her fingers over my chest before scratching the sensitive skin with her claws. I braced myself as she lifted the wood to the right and fixed it in place.
Fuuuccckkk . . .
It smarted in the best way possible, and my lower stomach twisted with arousal. I didn’t know why the pain turned me on so much; I’d learned a long time ago not to look too closely at that. It was best to revel in my kinks without thinking about the reasons why they were there in the first place. I repeated this to myself when she put another clothespin on the other nipple before squatting down to put more on the insides of my thighs. I watched her while she worked, and when she stopped to focus on my balls, I sucked in a breath, thinking she planned to attach a few there as well.
Instead, she just looked up at me and stood, running her nails up my abs to my pecs and over my shoulders.
“Are you okay?” Her voice drizzled over me like honey, sweet and decadent and soothing.
I nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”