Say Please: Lesbian BDSM Erotica (24 page)
Read Say Please: Lesbian BDSM Erotica Online
Authors: Sinclair Sexsmith,Miriam Zoila Perez,Wendi Kali,Rachel Kramer Bussel,Gigi Frost,BB Rydell,Amelia Thornton,Dilo Keith,Vie La Guerre,Anna Watson
“Karin.”
“I remember,” I said, thinking of our moment in the kitchen, and then blushed again.
“It’s all right,” Karin said, taking a moment to look me up and down, from my glasses and bun to the tips of my brown granny boots, “I find you attractive too.”
“I’m normally more erudite than this.” I smiled quietly. “Ask anyone.”
“I’d rather poke you with sharp pointy things,” she said, gently running her fingers down my neck while watching my eyes to see if I’d object.
“Oddly enough,” I blushed again, “I’d rather that too.”
The next thing I knew, I was lying naked on a towel at the foot of Sam’s bed, with one of the sexiest women I’d ever seen kneeling on top of my hips.
“Piercing for me,” she’d said seductively as her hands gently swabbed my breasts with disinfectant, “is like fucking through skin.”
My eyes had closed at the sound of her voice, and her statement made my thoughts go soft and liquid. I wasn’t usually very submissive, but there was something about her that made me just want to give myself to her, to give her power. I let myself drift in her words as she finished preparing for the scene, and then I felt her hot breath by my ear.
“Do you want me inside you?” she whispered.
My breath caught. “Yes,” I said. Perhaps I had been thinking less of needles in my breasts and more of fingers in my cunt, but I meant it all the same.
Then as I breathed out, she pushed the first needle in.
I gasped as I felt the first pop of the tip slipping under my skin, and she breathed with me as it slowly moved below the surface of my breast until she was where she wanted to finish the piercing.
“Are you ready?” she asked. “This is the part that hurts.”
“I like it when the fucking hurts,” I responded, and she laughed when I jerked as the now-duller tip once again pierced my skin, this time from the inside out.
“Oh, we are going to get along,” she said, looking down at where the tip of the needle was just touching my nipple. Then she whispered in my ear, “I like to make it hurt a lot.”
I held her eyes during the next needle, once she had started it in my skin, and it really had felt like she was fucking me with the piece of sharpened metal—the ache of the initial penetration, the feeling of it sliding inside me, the intimacy of her eyes on mine. By the time she had put in eight more, five in each breast, the towel beneath me was soaking wet, and we both were breathing fast.
“You like having me under your skin, don’t you, girl?” Karin asked, carefully playing with my breasts so that I could feel the needles pulling inside me.
“Yes,” I paused, “may I call you ma’am?” It hadn’t been a question I had thought I would ask. Not, at least, of someone I just met.
Karin had stilled for a moment, stroking one of the needles where it lay beneath the surface of my breast. “Yes,” she said, smiling thoughtfully, “I think you may.”
“Yes, ma’am, I do.”
That time it was Karin who had taken the deep breath. “Would you like having me in your mouth?” she’d asked, running one gloved finger across my lips.
In response, I opened my mouth and sucked her finger deep.
She stroked her finger down my cheek, asked, “Would you like having me in your cunt?” and all I could do was moan.
That was when I heard a gentle throat-clearing noise from by the door. Apparently Sam had been watching the scene, because she said, “Unfortunately, as much as I’d like to see that, it would be against the party rules.”
“Oh, I know.” Karin smiled wickedly down at me where I opened my eyes at the interruption of the moment. “I just wanted to know for future reference.”
I glared up at her and then turned the look on Sam where she stood, laughing, in the door.
“Well, this one’s a keeper,” Sam said, and then she turned and walked out the door.
Karin brought my focus back to her by pushing deeply against the needles in my left breast.
“You were saying?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Karin raised her eyebrow again.
“Ma’am.”
“In the meantime,” she grinned, “I’ll just have to fuck your breasts.”
That, after replacing the glove that had been in my mouth, was exactly what she did. She moved the needles so they pulled and tugged under my skin until the sensations had me writhing under her, and then she pulled them out one by one and dropped them into the sharps container. When the last one clattered into the plastic bin, we were both exhausted, and her hands were speckled with little dots of my blood.
“And now for the fun part,” she said, and after grabbing my wrists in one hand to hold them to the bed, she picked up an alcohol swab in the other and began to run it across the surface of my breasts.
I’d been relatively quiet through the whole scene, but when the alcohol hit the first piercing, I screamed. The alcohol felt like fire every time it hit a spot of open skin, and I enjoyed fighting against her restraint almost as much as I loved the intense sensations of the pain.
By the time she finished cleaning us up, we were both out of breath, and after moving all of the sharp objects safely out of the way, Karin collapsed next to me on the bed.
“Was it good for you?” she asked, a goofy smile flashing across her face.
“Oh yes,” I answered, and we lay there talking quietly until Karin’s friend found her, let us know that it was after two a.m., and wondered aloud if it might be time to leave.
She smiled ruefully and touched my cheek gently before saying good-bye, and I fell asleep right where I lay. I barely woke up enough to move over when Sam crawled into her bed beside me and turned out the light.
The first thing I saw the next morning, when I woke up curled up next to my best friend, was Karin’s card sitting on the floor, where it had fallen out of my boot. It had taken all the willpower I had to wait until I got home after work that evening to call her, and, amazingly, we’ve been together ever since.
My knees were beginning to ache from the cool tile floor when she finally returned to me, holding a cane of deep red Lucite.
I looked up at her with a question.
“You’re in a quiet place tonight, aren’t you, Emily?” she asked.
I nodded.
“But you’re happy?”
I looked up at her, trying once more to let her see how I felt, and nodded again.
“Good.” She smiled down at me. “Come lie down on the bed.”
I rose to my feet as elegantly as I could and walked down the hallway to the bedroom. She’d pulled the covers back, and there was a pair of leather cuffs attached to the headboard and another pair at the footboard.
“I know you don’t like to be bound,” she said, “but if you wouldn’t mind tonight… I don’t have to lock them.”
I shook my head and, catching the disappointed look in her eye, walked around to the nightstand. Rummaging around in it, I pulled out a small bag containing a quartet of brass locks and the matching key.
She glowed at me as I handed them to her, and asked me, “Truly?”
My answer was to climb up onto the bed and lie down on my back, placing my wrists in the cuffs.
“Turn over, actually,” she said, and then she locked my wrists and ankles into the restraints and started caning me.
I loved the cane, I always do. I loved the way she used it on me, building from a warm thuddy shower that felt more like sex than pain to deep, stinging blows that had me biting my lip and trying not to scream. Over and over, she’d build to the point where I was almost ready to give up, almost ready to ask her to stop, and then ease back down to an intensity that was easier to bear. She beat me for what felt like hours, until it felt like my ass and thighs were covered with bruises, until the pain and pleasure had become one and I thought that if she asked me to I could fly.
“I love doing this to you,” she said, running her fingers over the welts she’d made, pinching and poking to make me squirm. “You’re so beautiful when you’re in pain. I love how much you give me.” She dipped her fingers between my legs and found me drenched with desire. “I love how much you enjoy it.”
“God, it turns me on to hurt you,” she continued, moving her hand lower to stroke my clitoris and make me moan. “It makes me want to fuck you and hurt you even more.”
“Please,” I whispered into the pillow.
“What was that, girl?” I could smell my arousal on her fingers as she used them to turn my face to her ear.
“Please,” I repeated.
“Since you ask so nicely,” she said, “I suppose I will.”
She walked around to the bottom of the bed, where I couldn’t see her, and I heard the sounds of her buckling on her harness. Then I heard her rustling in the bedside drawer.
When she came back into view, she was nude except for the big green cock that curved up from the leather at her hips. It was her largest one, the one that hurt me if she used it for too long, and she smiled as she saw the fear and arousal in my eyes.
“Good girl,” she said, “I’m going to roll you over now,” and she released my ankles and did.
“Now,” Karin continued, “I know this cock is going to hurt you when I fuck you, but it’s not going to hurt enough, is it?” She pushed two fingers between my legs and they easily slid inside me. “You’re already so wet that I know you’ll need more.” She continued to fuck me slowly with her fingers as she asked me, “Isn’t that right?”
I blushed as I nodded my agreement, and she smiled.
“That’s what I thought,” she said, “which is why I took these out,” and she held up a bag of fifty clothespins.
I shivered.
“Every one of them is going to go on you before I fuck you, and they’re going to stay there until I’m done.” She smiled down at me. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? For me to hurt you and fuck you until I’m through?”
It was, I realized, exactly what I wanted, but that didn’t mean it didn’t frighten me to agree.
Slowly she started to cover me with clothespins. First she placed painful lines across my breasts. Then, when she ran out of skin to torment, she started on my inner arms. After my arms my nipples, previously spared, were squeezed in a deep ache. Then the insides of my thighs, where she’d rub against them while she fucked me, were given five pins each. Two more pinched each earlobe and then, when I thought I could take no more, she clamped the final one right across my clitoris.
It was agonizing, and it was glorious. Constant, intense, and inescapable pain that rolled across me in waves, and I was ready to surrender to it until she started to fuck me.
Her cock hurt as it slid inside me, but it hurt in a different way than the clothespins. It hurt in a way that focused my attention on her. I looked up at Karin’s face and saw her eyes gleam and her nipples harden every time I winced in pain, and it made me even more aroused. There was nothing more exciting to me than seeing her get turned on by hurting me. There was nothing better than knowing she was getting off on the pain her cock drew out of me as it pushed in deep against my cervix and then slid out to shove again home.
I began to beg, quietly, “Hurt me, please hurt me, use my pain to get yourself off, anything, I’ll do anything,” every time her hips slowed or her hands stopped moving across the clothespins covering my body, until she held her hands across my nose and mouth to quiet my screams as she worked my body until she was done with me—orgasming with her cock pressed deep inside me and tight against her clit.
I couldn’t stop myself, and without a thought I came too, my body clenching tightly around her firm, green cock.
“I’m sorry!”
They were the loudest words that had come out of my mouth all night.
Karin looked concerned as she asked, “Why are you sorry?”
“I came without asking. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.” I felt like I was on the verge of tears, and looked away.
Karin turned my face toward hers. “I’ve never asked you for that. You don’t have to apologize.”
I tried to turn my face away, but she held me tight.
“Wait,” she said, thoughtfully. “That’s not why you’re embarrassed.” She paused. “It’s because you want me to ask for that. You want to apologize.”
“I’m sorry,” I said again, my voice breaking, “It was wrong for me to presume.”
“No, sweetheart,” she said, “it wasn’t wrong at all.” She paused. “Do you want me to punish you?”
I nodded.
“Do you want to give me your orgasms?”
I blushed, and nodded again.
“Then this,” she said, “is going to hurt.”
“Every ten clothespins I take off,” she continued, starting to pluck them from my body and causing little blooms of agony as sensation returned to each deprived nerve ending and aching piece of skin, “I’m going to fuck you to orgasm. I won’t continue until you’ve come, and I’ll keep going no matter how raw you are, or sore.”
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