Kinky

‘Yes, I think you are. One more. Be brave. You are brave, Rosichka.’

He puts a hand on my spine and strokes it up and down. My breathing calms. His fingers press into my shoulder blades and neck, unknotting the gathering tension.

‘Just one,’ he whispers.

He steps away again, big boots on flagstones, and I make a gargantuan effort not to knot myself back up immediately.

I can’t, I can, I can’t, I can, I can’t, I will.

I do.

Oh God, it’s the worst one yet and I scream it out, jumping up and clutching my bum as if it’s on fire, which it well might be.

‘Jesus!’

‘No, no. Dimitri. Say it.’

He takes hold of me by the shoulders, pulling me into his chest, letting me sob into it for a moment or two. Everything is shaking, every single bit of me, even my eyes. He is still and strong and the shaking ends before long, though my legs still aren’t quite up to par by the time I find my voice.

‘Sorry, Dimitri.’

His lips are on the top of my head, kissing my hair. ‘That’s hard for you.’

‘Very. Really very painful indeed. But I wanted to take it, for you.’

‘Hard for me also. I almost stop.’

‘I’m glad you didn’t though.’

‘I got afraid you will hate me. But if I start, I must finish.’

‘I could never hate you.’

‘I keep say to myself, wait for her to say stop. But it is very hard, you know. To hurt somebody you love. Even if you know they want it.’

I remove my face from his chest and regard him with interest. ‘You didn’t enjoy it?’

He wrinkles his nose. ‘Well, yes. I like it from visual point of view, you know. It looks good. It feels good. But scary.’

‘Scary, yeah. Do you think it would be scary if you were doing it to a client?’

‘No, not at all. Only because it’s you, you know.’

‘Yes. I know. You didn’t find it sexy then?’

‘I don’t say that.’

He winks at me and puts a hand over the hottest part of my bottom, patting it. Now that I know there are no more strokes coming, I am growing to love the pain, embrace its radiating throb as it courses through me. He gave it to me; it is precious.

Our lips meet and we kiss a heartfelt apology to one another. All is equal again. It’s a fresh start, sealed with lips. And tongues.

Somewhere in the middle of it, he starts pushing me into a backwards shuffle, my feet moving in tiny steps, restricted by the jeans and knickers around my ankles.

I meet an obstacle, reaching to the backs of my knees, and I tumble backwards, landing with a gasp and an ouch on my bottom on a kind of leather divan fitted with wrist and ankle straps. It’s the bondage bed.

Dimitri rolls on top of me, still kissing, his fingers pushing into my hair from the sides of my face, his pelvis grinding into mine. The cold leather soothes my cane marks for a heavenly second, then they start to hurt as Dimitri jolts my body up and down. I want this pain, though. I want to feel it, along with the passion and the pleasure. The way they mix and spill into each other drives me to a level of need I never used to reach.

He releases my head and my mouth and props himself on his elbows, breathing down fast as he stares into my face. ‘I need to fuck you,’ he announces.