Read Online Rich Pickings by Ashe Barker - Free Book Online Page B

Take it. Don’t try to fight me, you’ve no need to. I’ll hurt you, because that’s what you need from me, some of the time at least, but I won’t harm you. Ever. You can trust me.”
    His fingers are on my shoulders, both his hands so he must have put the flogger down. He massages my shoulders firmly. “Relax, Summer. Just relax and let yourself feel. Just be, and stop fretting.”
    I roll my head, my neck muscles stretching and releasing, and with that the crippling tension of a few minutes ago dissipates. My body loosens and melts under his probing, demanding caress, as though he’s drawing all my pent-up anxieties out through his fingers. He keeps up the motion for a few minutes, working his way down my spine to my buttocks. He slips one hand between my legs, probing through my wet folds to rub my clit before plunging two fingers inside me.
    “I think you’re enjoying yourself a little more now, Summer. Am I right?”
    “Yes, Sir.” My voice is a hushed murmur, but all trace of distress is gone. “That feels so good, Sir.”
    “Hot and tight. Your perfect little pussy, just waiting to be fucked. Am I right about that too?”
    “You are, Sir.”
    He withdraws his fingers, and I moan slightly as he steps away, the intimate, soothing contact broken.
    “All in good time. First, I have plans for you. Ten strokes I think. I’ll count, you concentrate on breathing. Breathe in before each stroke, and out afterwards. Clear?”
    “Yes, Sir. I’ll try.”
    “Summer?” Trying isn’t enough this time.
    “Yes, Sir, perfectly clear. I’m ready.”
    There’s a slight rustle of clothing, and I assume he’s bent to retrieve the flogger. It’s to be now then. The talking’s over at last. I remember my instructions and draw in a deep breath, wondering how long I’ll have to hold it for. Not long at all. A breath of air, just the merest whisper as the suede strands fly. I gasp as they connect with the tender skin across my shoulder blades. The beads sting, each one its own pinprick of pain, sharp and vivid but not too intense. I arch instinctively, but don’t cry out.
    “One. Breathe out now, Summer.”
    I do, releasing the air trapped in my lungs. Dan waits patiently while I refill them. The air shifts and whistles again as Dan aims the flogger, this time at a spot just below my shoulder blades. The sharp bite of the beads causes me to wince, but the strands themselves are gentle, soft on my skin. I hadn’t expected that. I sigh as I exhale, sagging into the large V space between the arms of the cross, relying on just the restraints to hold me up.
    “Two.”
    I breathe in, and hold, waiting for the swish of the flogger. Dan lays the strands across my lower back this time, slightly harder than before. I do cry out, but softly. He hasn’t hurt me, yet. Soon.
    “Three.”
    I let out my breath, draw in the next in calm anticipation.
    “Four. Five. Six.”
    I’m settled, comfortable in my rhythm. Dan’s increasing the intensity, but only marginally, maybe. I’m not entirely sure.
    “Seven.”
    I squeal, now I am sure. That was hard. That hurt.
    “Just wanted to make sure you were still awake.”
    “Thank you, Sir.”
    “Was that more sarcasm, Summer?” His tone is deceptively mild.
    “No, Sir. I’m sorry.”
    “Breathe in again, girl.”
    I do, and scream as the next stroke lands across my shoulders, the pain now sharp and burning as he flogs my tender, sensitized skin. I’m gasping, my body tensing, listening for the telltale whoosh that signals the next stroke.
    I hear it the merest moment before the pain explodes across my back.
    “Eight. The last two will be harder still. Ready?”
    I nod, unable to get any words out just in this moment. My skin is smarting and burning, each tiny point where the beads have struck me now tingling and throbbing . Two left? Only two? I can do this. I want this.
    The air shifts again as the flogger whistles its descent. I jerk, my head flying back. My eyes are wide