Kathryn Goes Shopping Ch. 02

He undoes the clip that links her handcuffs and uses it to secure them once more around one of the bars at the head of her bed, "I'm helpless now, at His," her mind capitalises he word as her insides fill with its warmth, "mercy, cruel though it may be." She tests the strength of her bonds, more to ensure herself that she is indeed powerless than out of desire to escape them.

He caresses her raised, offered derriere with each of her newly acquired instruments of torment in turn starting with the soft flogger, a the sensuous suede strands of its falls delight her skin she says a silent word of thanks to Annette, her "co-conspirator" for her kindness, she marvels that she is almost eager to feel its kiss, she realises how her captive body is responding, flushes and then glows at the realisation that, with his skill at reading her responses. Next she feels a silky touch, then flat, straight edge, and decides it is the paddle, she remembers lying across William's kneel with a shiver of trepidation just a few weeks ago, the way the pillows raise her hips prevents her from pressing herself into the bed, but her movement makes her response clear to him.

The table tennis bat in its turn offers two new sensations, the pimples are rough as he rubs them gently across her buttocks, while the smooth side is cold against the skin of her thighs, "He's never used something quite like this on me", her mind ponders reaches out to torments unknown and her rebellious body warms to her imagining.

Next come the soft suede falls of "Annette's flogger", and oh, my they are as soft as those of any in William's treasure trove of a playroom, she imagines and remembers all at once sensations like being beaten with warm liquid chocolate and stung by tiny biting kisses, then wonders at her choice to name this "Annette's flogger" he caresses her with them long and slowly delighting in the way she used the little movement he has allowed her to retain to follow them and open herself to them. He trails them tenderly along her folds and she feels them carry her own wetness from her proffered vulva to her offered bum and at this gentle touch it is the cheeks of her face that burn, "This is so wrong but so wonderful" her guilty mind tells her as it files the sensations and the fantasy of more for moments when she is alone.

Her reverie is brought to a sudden end when the tip of the riding crop slaps her hood and Mons lightly but loudly, she yelps in surprise and the rush of sensation has her panting, despite her response, her expectation and her fear the blow the only one that lands however again he proceeds to caress her, calves, the insides of her thighs and the outsides of her breasts, and yes her Mons again, the soft leather of the slapper and the smooth springiness of the shaft explore her vulnerable body in leisurely fashion.

Finally she feels the long thin, vicious looking dressage whip, again, as with the crop he does not merely caress her thighs and derriere he draws the tip of the wicked thing along the length of her wide open inner labia from its head over her hood and urethra and between her inner lips he runs it back and as it makes its way it rubs her hood clear of the infinitely sensitive pearl it protects. A wild thought breaks loose in her mind of him bringing this feared tool of pain that she has herself bought down onto her with all the force at his disposal. The thought has her writhing in agony and cumming with even greater force than ever, of those waves of pain and pleasure washing away the barriers between the fantasy of light that she has lived since becoming William's lover and the fantasies of darkness of her best and worst dreams. This thought and the bizarre fact of his loving touch delivered with this cruel whip almost send her spiralling over the edge.

She hangs there even after she feels the whip's touch end, and senses his weight next to her, his hands trace across her body with confident caresses, and she finds herself floating, adrift, helpless but somehow completed, she has so far not borne a single blow from any of the five implements or William's hand, but her nerves are popping and frizzing, he isn't touching her clitoris, breasts or even her Mons and yet the contact and her predicament have her utterly. The gentling ceases, and his places one brief kiss on her shoulder, and in the rest bite her consciousness tries to swim as close as it can to the surface in her bound state and then...WHACK, her body leaps in shock more than pain as the table tennis paddle crashes into her left buttock, she groans, gasps and WHACK it strikes her right, the sounds bounce back at her from the walls of her bedroom as her helpless body bounces on her bed.

She is now expecting and prepares herself for further blows, she can't quite bring herself to think wanting, but he takes her by surprise, as he so often does, caressing her reddened skin eliciting sparks of pleasure he slides an arm around her hips, lifting her slightly and then lowers her again, , she feels something pressed between her and the pillows, hears and feels it buzz into life, her new wand? Her body and bonds hold it in place, she wonders, not for the first time, how he became so practiced as without his even checking she finds that pressing her hips downward brings the hood of her clitoris into contact with the wand's head. He hasn't turned it up high, and he has set it to a frustrating undulating pattern of vibration, enough, she fears from her experience of past torments to get her to and keep her on edge without giving her the slightest hope of release, she presses her hips as low as she can but no, she's certain, he's such a bastard, her silent voice taunts her once more now that she is once against powerless to do anything about it.

He caresses her thighs and buttocks, "Six to each cheek my sweet." And she braces herself, Whack, a pause, Whack again, this time there is a little more pain and a little less shock, "That's two now." Again the caressing touch, and again afloat in her world of sensations she does not consider her safe-word, rather she pushes her Mons onto the wand and in so doing tilts her buttocks invitingly upwards and William not being a man to ignore such an invitation does not do so, Whack, Whack and this time she calls out, the blows have landed on the sensitive skin at the points where her thighs and buttocks meet. This time his caresses last longer and he slides his thumb into her, and his fingers around the head of the wand, pressing it more closely onto her and her body at first shakes in response and then her hips begin to rock reflexively, he allows her to continue, her breathing becomes more shallow and stops, and he takes the hand away.

Whack, Whack, this time back to the rounds of her buttocks, and though there is more pain than when he last struck here the sensation is still more one of shock and stimulation and when his touch returns she is closer than she had been, "That is four." This time he uses his hand in more leisurely fashion, much to Kathryn's frustration but her rising excitement still means that he is only able to refrain from making her cum for so long and so again he has to take his hand away.

A brief whimper escape her lips as he does so, and, when he caresses her fast warming bum with the paddle for the first time she makes to move away from it, though with the way she is bound there is no-where for her rosy cheeks to hide.

He lifts the paddle and once again Whack Whack, her gasps come swiftly and are almost as sharp as the sounds of the paddle striking her. Her bottom is now glowing brightly and his soothing caresses are almost uncomfortable as her body longs for the expected return of his hand to her entrance. Once more he edges her and once more she whimpers at the loss of his skilful touch a moment before her need is satisfied, though this time the whimper includes more fear, she is certain the final blows with genuinely hurt.

He makes her wait for them and as she does so she reflects on the fact that she is being beaten with a piece of equipment from an innocent game and that she herself bought it for just this purpose. Then with these thoughts distracting her and lessening her resistance WHACK WHACK and she really does cry out this time. She hears him place the paddle down with some relief, but rather more expectation. She knows his habits and his skill, to both her pleasure and her cost (though that cost has often, she recalls with a rush, given her much pleasure). His hand returns to her now sore buttocks but makes no move towards her pussy or the buzzing wand.

When he does not immediately move to satisfy her she first wiggles as enticingly as she is able, "Sir, please..." She begins to beg.

"I haven't heard you thank me yet young lady."

It's a rare thing in their relationship, a demand, he does not make demands and does not allow them, but after each spanking or whipping he insists that she thank him. She has come to admit openly to herself that yes, this aspect of their relationship, crazy though it may seem is something she is indeed thankful for, its catharsis a benison, it's sharp spice the defining edge that elevates their banquet above a mere good meal. Yes psychologically the act of thanking him was always hard on her.

She pauses while, all patience, he caresses, and in that pause and that patience she finds the simple words, "Thank-you Sir."

Her words complete the moment, complete her submission and her body so willingly bound and perfectly rosied derriere so wantonly offered. She hears him undress, senses his weight on the bed and then the reassuring solidity of him, feels the residual soreness of her skin as his smooth hips meet her upthrust buttocks melts as he fills her emptiness, rises as his mass presses her down and in so doing forces the head of the wand tight against her, winces and then purrs as his hands find her breasts still hypersensitive from the effects of the clamps.

Their earlier exertions have eased his own urgency and he takes long, slow delight in her first orgasm, moving insider her with his accustomed irresistible force yet with no hint of frenzy, and after and between his strength and endurance allow her to revel in their closeness until she feels her own need rise once more and only then does he unleash his full power and take his own pleasure in full.