you."
Under André’s tutelage, John had become a master in both
pleasure and pain. Thus it had been a simple matter for him to divert Kelly
from her terror with an orgasm. Kelly had simply been in shock. The small,
dark, enclosed space of the elevator had triggered a childhood PTSD event.
John felt a sudden need to swallow, for he had been
affected by her panic. Always physically in control, he decided to allow
himself to swallow, and did so. Yet the significance of the need was not lost
to him. Kelly Flynn was important. It had hurt him to know that she was
suffering. The irony didn't escape his notice - it was such an odd problem for
him to experience.
John continued to softly rub Kelly's back, as she rested
from the extreme violence of those multiple orgasms of hers. He hadn't seen
them of course, but he had felt every one when her body thrashed and her cunt
had tightened in convulsive waves around his fingers. The candid details of her
fantasy of him had his balls tingling, and his cock throbbed and twitched the
more she revealed.
All this time he had been masturbating nightly, dreaming
of her. And all that time she had been thinking of him. God he wanted to fuck
her. He really did, and this surprised him because he never wanted that. He
never even thought about that.
What he really wanted to do was hurt her.
6. Off the Cliff
Kelly doesn't like pain, he
thought, and disappointment stabbed at him. But maybe, like many others, I
can teach her to enjoy it.
John found it difficult to be emotionally involved with
the rest of the human race, except through pain. But with pain there could be
in his experience, no greater bond. There was always a point, a moment of
surrender when torturing someone. It was the ultimate joining, when the eyes
met and two souls linked in a place far above the physical realm.
Correctly done, pain was profound. It was a spiritual
release, and an honest connection like no other. The reward of torment, the
subs willing submission, the agony, then mercy and forgiveness. Such was a gift
from each to each other. Kelly liked a spanking and some hurt, but could she
like it enough to meet the heights he wanted to take her to? For he would never
ever take her anywhere she didn’t want to go.
God that kiss. John didn't kiss, but he had longed to
kiss her. It was as if her goodness flowed into him with that kiss. Kelly was
all lightness to his dark, all radiant white to the dirty black hole of his own
darkness. John wanted to kiss her again.
"John?" Kelly said, stirring from her
trance-like state of release.
"Yes?"
She sat up. "I know you never allow anyone…"
she cleared her throat, "I mean do you mind if I suck you off?"
"I don't do that," he replied instantly.
"Oh," she said in a forlorn voice, clearly
saddened by his response.
With logic and observation, John was attuned to others.
These were ingrained skills he had trained into himself on purpose. John
noticed everything, but even more so with Kelly. She was submissive, and most
submissive women found real pleasure through serving a Dom in that way. This
was a natural part of Kelly's makeup. John hadn't wanted to wound her. Hurting
her felt like hurting himself. What was that about? Why was that?
There was a long pause while John considered granting her
wish. Could he climax with Kelly? He had tried with other submissives both male
and female, but was utterly incapable. Only twice had he been able to climax
with another.
Once had been on his eighteenth birthday, when he had
begged his Aunt Brenda to take his virginity. That had been a terrible day.
Brenda had been kind and understanding. She knew his history by then, and felt
responsible. Aunt Brenda had been the only good thing in his life ever, and
nothing had been her fault. Aunt Brenda had been a beautiful woman. But it had
taken him most of the day to finally achieve a climax with her and it had given
him no pleasure. John grimaced. He had learned something of what he had wanted
to
Under André’s tutelage, John had become a master in both
pleasure and pain. Thus it had been a simple matter for him to divert Kelly
from her terror with an orgasm. Kelly had simply been in shock. The small,
dark, enclosed space of the elevator had triggered a childhood PTSD event.
John felt a sudden need to swallow, for he had been
affected by her panic. Always physically in control, he decided to allow
himself to swallow, and did so. Yet the significance of the need was not lost
to him. Kelly Flynn was important. It had hurt him to know that she was
suffering. The irony didn't escape his notice - it was such an odd problem for
him to experience.
John continued to softly rub Kelly's back, as she rested
from the extreme violence of those multiple orgasms of hers. He hadn't seen
them of course, but he had felt every one when her body thrashed and her cunt
had tightened in convulsive waves around his fingers. The candid details of her
fantasy of him had his balls tingling, and his cock throbbed and twitched the
more she revealed.
All this time he had been masturbating nightly, dreaming
of her. And all that time she had been thinking of him. God he wanted to fuck
her. He really did, and this surprised him because he never wanted that. He
never even thought about that.
What he really wanted to do was hurt her.
6. Off the Cliff
Kelly doesn't like pain, he
thought, and disappointment stabbed at him. But maybe, like many others, I
can teach her to enjoy it.
John found it difficult to be emotionally involved with
the rest of the human race, except through pain. But with pain there could be
in his experience, no greater bond. There was always a point, a moment of
surrender when torturing someone. It was the ultimate joining, when the eyes
met and two souls linked in a place far above the physical realm.
Correctly done, pain was profound. It was a spiritual
release, and an honest connection like no other. The reward of torment, the
subs willing submission, the agony, then mercy and forgiveness. Such was a gift
from each to each other. Kelly liked a spanking and some hurt, but could she
like it enough to meet the heights he wanted to take her to? For he would never
ever take her anywhere she didn’t want to go.
God that kiss. John didn't kiss, but he had longed to
kiss her. It was as if her goodness flowed into him with that kiss. Kelly was
all lightness to his dark, all radiant white to the dirty black hole of his own
darkness. John wanted to kiss her again.
"John?" Kelly said, stirring from her
trance-like state of release.
"Yes?"
She sat up. "I know you never allow anyone…"
she cleared her throat, "I mean do you mind if I suck you off?"
"I don't do that," he replied instantly.
"Oh," she said in a forlorn voice, clearly
saddened by his response.
With logic and observation, John was attuned to others.
These were ingrained skills he had trained into himself on purpose. John
noticed everything, but even more so with Kelly. She was submissive, and most
submissive women found real pleasure through serving a Dom in that way. This
was a natural part of Kelly's makeup. John hadn't wanted to wound her. Hurting
her felt like hurting himself. What was that about? Why was that?
There was a long pause while John considered granting her
wish. Could he climax with Kelly? He had tried with other submissives both male
and female, but was utterly incapable. Only twice had he been able to climax
with another.
Once had been on his eighteenth birthday, when he had
begged his Aunt Brenda to take his virginity. That had been a terrible day.
Brenda had been kind and understanding. She knew his history by then, and felt
responsible. Aunt Brenda had been the only good thing in his life ever, and
nothing had been her fault. Aunt Brenda had been a beautiful woman. But it had
taken him most of the day to finally achieve a climax with her and it had given
him no pleasure. John grimaced. He had learned something of what he had wanted
to
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