Riding the Storm by Candace Blevins Page A

“Yes Sir, I think so.”
    “You’re ready for a flogger now, as I can give you a better
rhythm with it. I won’t restrict your orgasms today — you don’t have to
warn me or ask me. You won’t always have this kind of permission, but you have
enough other things going on today, I think.”
    “Thank you, Sir.”
    The first few strikes weren’t hard, but as she sank into the
rhythm, he added force. Each stroke hurt, but it also felt good and she didn’t
want it to end. As he kept it up, the cadence combined with the mix of pain and
pleasure had her so close to orgasm she couldn’t stand it, but she couldn’t
bring herself to ask for help finding release. Her skin was on fire, each
caress of the stinging strands lighting a new fire as it fanned the old, but
she couldn’t move her hips without pulling her hands farther up her back. She
could only lie still and take it.
    When he stopped with no warning, she moaned at the loss.
    “You want more pain, don’t you, Kendra?”
    Damn, he was right. She didn’t just want it, she needed it. She pushed her bottom up, and gave a small yelp as her shoulders were
torqued more than she expected from the pull, but still told him, “Yes, Sir. Please .”
    His hand felt cool on her bottom, and she relaxed as he
rubbed and soothed her, but then tensed as he said, “I think you’re ready for
the cane.”
    He hung the flogger back in the chest, and lifted something
else. When he turned, he held the cane so she could see.
    She’d used it on others plenty, and was well acquainted with
what it could do. If not used properly it would split the flesh open, if used
correctly it would create bruises and welts. She’d heal from whatever he did,
but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt like hell.
    “I’m going to give you two strokes before I decide how many
you’ll get.”
    The first cut landed and she couldn’t believe the pain. When
it first hit, she could handle the burn, but then two seconds later it was unbearable .
However, as the burn spread it felt... good. Not good like a massage, but in a
tortured, heat filled, sensation-you-can’t-ignore kind of way, and she wanted
more.
    She gasped and gave a small yelp as the second cut landed,
but as the pain once again morphed into warmth, her moan was of bliss, not
pain. She didn’t think she could take too many of these, but damn , what
a sensation.
    “Okay Kendra, six in all, which means you get four more. I
want you to count out loud, the next will be three. When it hits you’ll say,
‘Three, Sir,’ understood?”
    “Yes, Sir.”
    Another caress over the top of her hair, down her back, a
pause to feel of her hands, and then a smooth glide to her heated bottom.
    Kendra was no longer conflicted about submitting. He was
Dom, she did as she was told, and nothing else mattered.
    As the next stroke fell, she gasped, “Three, Sir,” as she
fought to deal with the pain until it blossomed into bliss and fire, and her
moan vibrated through her body.
    She screamed a little at the next — not terribly loud,
but there was no denying it was a scream, and then she got out, “Four, Sir.”
    He rubbed across her bottom with his hand and she moaned
again as she tried to move her hips. Her shoulders were screaming from being in
the reverse prayer position, and she hoped he changed her arms around when he
was done with this part.
    His hand came off her ass and the next blow fell, and this
time she screamed a little louder before getting out, “Five, Sir.”
    “One more to go. This one’ll be harder than the others, make
sure you count it out as number six, otherwise it won’t count.”
    And then it hit, and she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe,
couldn’t speak. She finally pulled enough air in to say, “Six, Sir,” but it
wasn’t very loud and she hoped it was good enough. Her ass was literally on
fire, and her pussy felt so empty , if he untied her right now she might
rape him.
    Eric rubbed her bottom a few minutes, soothing and