Read Online Flesh & Blood by John Argus - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: John Argus
Tags: S/M, vampire, BDSM, Twilight, submission, bondage, domination, Erotic, spanking, submissive, dom, spank, punishment, femdom, dominatrix, chimera, tied, damsel, corporal, pattinson
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strips binding her arms to the rail and holding her ankles wide.
A crack of pain across her buttocks made her cry out, and again she heard – almost heard – a throaty chuckle. Her eyes were wide as they stared down at the car park below, her mouth open as her breaths came in deep, ragged gulps, and she orgasmed.
But still her body was jolted forward again and again by the deep thrusts of the cold rigidity within, and her hair spilled over her face as she wailed in wondering pleasure and discomfort. Her mind, overwhelmed by the intensity of raw need and hunger, tumbled amid the waves of bliss as her body was used violently by a force she did not understand.
She felt another numbing crack across her raised bottom. Her breasts were squeezed and kneaded by harsh hands, her nipples tugged, and then she sensed a hovering presence just behind her head. Her hair was tugged back and she felt a sudden sharp stab at the nape of her neck. She screamed in agony, yet the agony was washed away almost at once. A crescendo of pleasure that made everything else pale into insignificance tore through her nervous system, and her voice rose in a long, undulating scream of ecstasy.
She collapsed against the rail, limp, chest heaving. Dazedly she heard doors sliding open in the apartments below, people stepping out onto balconies, muttering unintelligible comments. The silk strips unwound and she sagged to the floor of her balcony, slumping onto her back, panting for breath as she stared up into the moon.
Chapter Four
Leah rolled over with a sleepy groan, her eyes fluttering for a moment. She brought her hands up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, then yawned. It felt as if she’d only just gotten to sleep.
Grumpily she slapped the alarm and stilled its buzzing. She lay on her back, naked but for the sheets bunched across her midriff. She did not normally sleep naked but her skin felt tender to the touch when she went to bed, and she’d not wanted to feel anything against it. She’d even replaced her normal cotton sheets with the black satin set she bought on a silly romantic whim a week into her last relationship.
Her skin still felt raw, but there was nothing to see but healthy pink flesh. She sat up, her eyes dropping to her breasts. When she went to bed they’d felt bruised and sore, but that had faded and there were no marks to see. Her hand dropped lightly to her groin and she winced ever so slightly. She was still tender there.
Her mind shied away from thinking about what had happened to her. It was Friday, and she had work to go to.
It was a struggle to lift herself out of bed, but she did and shuffled her way to the kitchen, turned on the coffee, then shuffled to the bathroom. Having showered she felt a little better, until she caught something out of the corner of her eye, half turned and looked closer, and then her stomach fell at the very visible image of a blotchy handprint across her bare buttocks. Her pulse quickened and she grasped the edge of the basin to keep her legs from buckling at the incomprehensible and disturbing discovery. She remembered with shocking clarity the pain, as if… as if someone had spanked her.
She tore her eyes away, struggling to deny what she saw, stumbling out the door and hurrying to the kitchen for a mug of hot, strong coffee.
‘Good morning, detective.’
‘Good morning, sergeant,’ Leah returned, as she pushed through the office door. She wore a sleeveless black turtleneck sweater beneath a cream linen suit jacket. The sweater was a little too formfitting for work, but the jacket offset it, and more importantly it hid the bruising on the nape of her neck.
She continued on to the briefing room, where she found her colleagues gathered around the long tables, and Sara sitting amongst them, uncharacteristically quiet, her back rigid. Her dark hair was tied in a pair of loose pigtails, which gave her an oddly young and out of place look for a police detective, and she wore a dark
A crack of pain across her buttocks made her cry out, and again she heard – almost heard – a throaty chuckle. Her eyes were wide as they stared down at the car park below, her mouth open as her breaths came in deep, ragged gulps, and she orgasmed.
But still her body was jolted forward again and again by the deep thrusts of the cold rigidity within, and her hair spilled over her face as she wailed in wondering pleasure and discomfort. Her mind, overwhelmed by the intensity of raw need and hunger, tumbled amid the waves of bliss as her body was used violently by a force she did not understand.
She felt another numbing crack across her raised bottom. Her breasts were squeezed and kneaded by harsh hands, her nipples tugged, and then she sensed a hovering presence just behind her head. Her hair was tugged back and she felt a sudden sharp stab at the nape of her neck. She screamed in agony, yet the agony was washed away almost at once. A crescendo of pleasure that made everything else pale into insignificance tore through her nervous system, and her voice rose in a long, undulating scream of ecstasy.
She collapsed against the rail, limp, chest heaving. Dazedly she heard doors sliding open in the apartments below, people stepping out onto balconies, muttering unintelligible comments. The silk strips unwound and she sagged to the floor of her balcony, slumping onto her back, panting for breath as she stared up into the moon.
Chapter Four
Leah rolled over with a sleepy groan, her eyes fluttering for a moment. She brought her hands up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, then yawned. It felt as if she’d only just gotten to sleep.
Grumpily she slapped the alarm and stilled its buzzing. She lay on her back, naked but for the sheets bunched across her midriff. She did not normally sleep naked but her skin felt tender to the touch when she went to bed, and she’d not wanted to feel anything against it. She’d even replaced her normal cotton sheets with the black satin set she bought on a silly romantic whim a week into her last relationship.
Her skin still felt raw, but there was nothing to see but healthy pink flesh. She sat up, her eyes dropping to her breasts. When she went to bed they’d felt bruised and sore, but that had faded and there were no marks to see. Her hand dropped lightly to her groin and she winced ever so slightly. She was still tender there.
Her mind shied away from thinking about what had happened to her. It was Friday, and she had work to go to.
It was a struggle to lift herself out of bed, but she did and shuffled her way to the kitchen, turned on the coffee, then shuffled to the bathroom. Having showered she felt a little better, until she caught something out of the corner of her eye, half turned and looked closer, and then her stomach fell at the very visible image of a blotchy handprint across her bare buttocks. Her pulse quickened and she grasped the edge of the basin to keep her legs from buckling at the incomprehensible and disturbing discovery. She remembered with shocking clarity the pain, as if… as if someone had spanked her.
She tore her eyes away, struggling to deny what she saw, stumbling out the door and hurrying to the kitchen for a mug of hot, strong coffee.
‘Good morning, detective.’
‘Good morning, sergeant,’ Leah returned, as she pushed through the office door. She wore a sleeveless black turtleneck sweater beneath a cream linen suit jacket. The sweater was a little too formfitting for work, but the jacket offset it, and more importantly it hid the bruising on the nape of her neck.
She continued on to the briefing room, where she found her colleagues gathered around the long tables, and Sara sitting amongst them, uncharacteristically quiet, her back rigid. Her dark hair was tied in a pair of loose pigtails, which gave her an oddly young and out of place look for a police detective, and she wore a dark
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