He drags his hand over my ass cheeks, then bends and kisses them.
"Oh," I gasp, shivering.
His finger slides to my pussy, gliding back and forth. "Always wet for me, even when you need pain, aren't you?"
"Yes. Please, Red. I need it," I plead.
His lips trail my spine, and I squeeze my thighs together, whimpering. He orders, "Count for me, Bluebird. Let it out."
The first strike lands with a crack, the leather meeting my ass cheek in a burst of fire.
"One," I choke out, tears flowing freely now, but they're cathartic, washing away the shame and emotional pain I carry.
"That's it. You need more?" he asks, taunting my pussy again.
"Y-yes!" I blurt out, dizzy from the relief and adrenaline.
He doesn't rush, spacing each smack out, letting each one build on the last. Between each one, he plays with my pussy, or tightens the tension on the nipple clamps.
The pain layers, sharp at first, then throbbing into a deep warmth that spreads through my limbs. My mind quiets as the destructive thoughts fracture under the onslaught of sensations.
By five, I'm sobbing from the release. "Red...please..."
He pauses, his hand rubbing soothing circles over the heated flesh. "What do you need, Bluebird?"
"More," I whisper, the word slipping out unbidden. The clamps tug with my movement, amplifying everything.
He slides two fingers inside me, pumping slowly, and curls the chain around his other fist so the clamps tighten. Another warm sensation spreads from my breasts to where his fingers play.
His voice drags low and heavy. "More what? More of me inside you? Or more spankings?" He bites the bottom of my ass cheek hard enough that I arch off the bed.
"Oh God!" Sensations and buzzing chaotically fight. "I-I-I?—"
"You what, Bluebird?" he asks, rubbing his palm over the bite.
Flames detonate straight through my spine. My body lifts again before my brain catches up. A broken sound tears out of me as everything short-circuits at once. Pleasure spikes sharp and frantic, and pain hums just beneath it, impossible to separate. My thighs shake. My breath stutters. More relief releases throughout my body.
His palm follows, grounding and cruel all at once, smoothing over the sting until it turns molten. My skin feels too tight, too alive. Everynerve buzzes like it's been stripped bare. I can't finish a thought. Words scatter the second I try to grab one.
My hips rock without permission, chasing his hand, chasingsomethingI can't name. My pulse thunders everywhere. My ears, throat, and between my legs turn loud enough, I swear he can hear it all.
"I—" It comes out wrecked, desperate. My voice breaks like it's been pulled thin. I swallow and fail. My body answers for me, arching again, opening, betraying every secret I haven't said yet.
His hand lingers, warm and possessive, and I melt into the space he's holding me in. I'm caught, aching, and trembling on the edge of whatever he decides to give next.
"More?" he questions.
"Yes!" I answer, not ready to let go of it all.
He obliges, the paddle descending again. Six. Seven. Eight. Each count pulls me deeper into subspace, where the world is just him and me, pain and love intertwined.
At ten, he stops, setting the paddle aside to gather me into his arms.
I'm limp, spent, and the buzzing morphs into pure arousal. I barely get out, "Don't stop. I need you, Red."
He kisses me, mumbling between my lips, "You got me," and removes the clamps, tugging them one last time.
Surges of sweet stings erupt. I arch into them, letting my head fall so all I see is the blurred ceiling. "Oh!"
