One True Master (Desire Island 1) - Page 41

As he slowly raised it, he said, “I assume you’re familiar with predicament bondage?”

“Yes, Sir,” Skylar whispered, her heart leaping into her throat.

“Lift up on your toes.”

Skylar obeyed, nervous sweat prickling beneath her arms.

He continued to raise the beam until it pressed up between her legs. She lost her balance slightly, unable to use her arms for purchase, as the wood made contact with her spread cunt. It didn’t hurt, not yet, not while she was still on her toes. But the narrow beam had sharp edges that would press painfully into her delicate flesh when she lowered her toes, which she would invariably have to do at some point.

Master Caelan retrieved a folding chair from a corner of the room and set it up directly in front of her. He sat in the chair and unzipped his fly, pulling his large, semi-erect cock from his jeans. He wrapped his hand around it and smiled a lazy, cruel smile. “You look beautiful like that, Skylar, bound and balanced on the straddle beam. How long can you stay on your toes, do you think?”

“I’m not sure, Sir,” Skylar replied breathlessly.

“I guess we’ll find out.”

It could have been ten minutes or it could have been an hour. Skylar lost track of time as she held herself up on her toes, the hard wood making its presence known between her legs. She focused on Master Caelan, who looked incredibly sexy massaging his shaft with his large hand, his eyes fixed on her.

After a while, her legs and feet began to tire. She lowered herself experimentally to the ground. The sharp edges of the wooden board dug painfully into her. She winced and lifted immediately back to her toes. Master Caelan smiled that sexy, evil smile once more as he continued to stroke his erection.

For a split second, she wanted to slap him. She wanted to make him get up on the beam and see how he liked it digging into his delicate testicles. The feeling passed after a moment, however. She had earned this punishment by closing her legs to her Master. She would accept it with as much grace as she could muster.

She managed to stay up a while, until her legs trembled from the effort. Unable to hold up any longer, she lowered her feet flat on the floor, causing the wood to press painfully against her sex.

She gasped, her face twisting with pain.

“Breathe through the pain,” Master Caelan counseled. “Embrace your punishment and know that when it’s over, your slate is clean.”

“It hurts, Sir,” she managed, wincing.

“It’s supposed to, slave Skylar. It’s a reminder that you must never, ever close your legs to me. Suffer for me now, and you will thank me afterward.”

“Yes, Sir,” she breathed, some of the pain actually edging away as she drew in and released a deep, cleansing breath.

But it was soon back. She tried to lift again on her toes, but her legs had apparently turned to jelly and refused to cooperate. The wood cut into her flesh. She looked down at the floor beneath her to see if she was bleeding, but she appeared to be intact despite the pain. She was sweating freely now, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to process and endure the increasing erotic agony.

Her safeword! Should she use it? Even as she thought this, she dismissed it. She wasn’t in danger. Master Caelan knew exactly what he was doing. If she used it, it would only be because she was uncomfortable, and that, she understood now, wasn’t the purpose of the scene-stopping last resort.

“Yellow light,” she said instead, but he just looked at her, shaking his head ever so slightly.

She lifted again briefly onto her toes before slamming down again when her left calf cramped suddenly and painfully. “Fuck! I can’t!”

“You can,” Master Caelan said calmly, still stroking his gorgeous cock. “You’re doing very well. I’m pleased.”

In spite of her distress, his praise sent a shaft of warm sunlight through her, easing the pain just a little. At that moment, she finally let go. She stopped resisting the pain and instead flowed into it, letting it claim and control her. She closed her eyes, drifting in a kind of pain-induced fog, her cunt throbbing, the sweat trickling down her sides.

Suddenly, the pressure was gone, the wood no longer pressed up hard against her. She opened her eyes to see Master Caelan lowering the chains that held the beam in place. He had tucked his cock back into his jeans, though she could still see the outline of his erection pressing against the denim.

She swayed a little, dizzy with relief that the punishment was over. Her cunt felt bruised and tender but otherwise none the worse for wear.

He untied her quickly and helped her step away from the beam. Then, unexpectedly, he placed an arm behind her back, the other behind her knees, and lifted her up. Cradling her in his arms, he carried her to the recovery couch and set her gently down.

Tags: Claire Thompson Desire Island Erotic
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