Arcadia Resurgence by Vague Vermillion (e books free to read txt) 📖

at your bonds, trying to move away. One heavy hand on the small of your back held you firm as I tested your flesh with the strap a few more times. Then I turned the strap over, heavier side now my instrument of abuse. I savoured the way you flinched. Your small whimpers and sounds of protest. Spreading the strikes slowly lower, I decided to be wicked.

You cried out and dropped to your hip, wrists bound above you after the strap came down on the soft underside of your little foot, attempting to tuck your feet under you protectively. I cocked my head and looked at you with raised eyebrows. I could see the struggle on your face. Wanting to get away, knowing where you were supposed to be and that you weren't there in that moment.

"What do we say about symmetry?" I looked at you pointedly.

"That it's important." You sounded so reluctant.

"And?" All it took was a slight raising of the eyebrows and you slowly pulled yourself back onto your knees, head hung low, waiting for the inevitable next strike. You popped back up in a hurry and barely resisted rolling away as I struck the other foot. I chuckled darkly and then returned to warming your perfectly presented posterior. Back and forth, a number of strikes across your cheeks, and then one or two per foot. The feet were especially horrible for you. You seemed to be nearing the tears I had been working toward.

I rubbed the strap along your sensitive flesh as I reached to the bedside table and once more picked up the suede flogger. Trailing it along your glowing cheeks, it looked like you couldn't decide if you were relieved or apprehensive about the switch. Setting the strap aside, I climbed back onto the bed and returned to my place over you. 

Up and down I worked the flogger over your back and ass. Around your thighs and the odd reminder to your feet. Yet this time, I showed you some of the suede's sting, as I striped your soft skin with the quick tips of the course leather. You knew before ever playing with me that you didn't like sting. I knew you didn't like sting. The tips sting. It was so rewarding to watch you tremble. Here your gasps of surprise, or your moans of pleasure when the thud drove you down.

A few minutes in, you called to me. "Daddy?" I draped the flogger along your back and placed a hand on your shoulder as I leaned down to listen to you, idly tracing the falls along your skin.

"Yes, baby girl?" I asked sweetly. I think the contradiction of soft voice to cruel actions undoes you sometimes.

"Daddy? Please can I have the nipple clamps off now? Please?" You asked so nicely. Imploring. The clamps had probably been in place for a good forty-five minutes at this point. I couldn't have asked for better timing.

"Of course you can." I was feeling benevolent. You looked so grateful. I can't tell you how much I enjoyed that.

I draped the flogger around the back of your neck as I climbed off the bed to stand beside you. I leaned in nice and close and slowly took the first heavy clothespin in hand. Your eyes fixated on it. I watched your face avidly, you were too focused on the clamp to notice. You looked so relieved. Until I slowly squeezed the clothespin open. 

Warm blood flooded back into your tortured nipple and your tears were instant. Your expectant expression of relief turned to one of painful horror and before the clamp had completely released you, the tears were already running trails down your cheeks. Your back hollowed, your head came back, your mouth hung open and you cried out. I was perversely hard in an instant as your elbows gave out and you tried to sink down and hide from the pain.

"There you go." I grinned into your ear. "That's one." You looked at me like I had betrayed you, like I had tricked you. Your eyes flashed away from mine to follow my hand as it reached out for the second clamp. 

"No. No, no, please no. No!" You stammered through your tears. It was fear that shone in your eyes. Songs of innocence and experience. Your face of expectation of relief and happiness the first time, in high contrast to your face of expectation of agony and misery the second time. It was beautiful to watch. Your tears welled higher and came faster. I gripped the clamp and you shook your head in denial, unable to find words of protest through your sobs. I stretched out every second as I slowly, deliberately, eased the clamp further and further apart.

Your tears ran down your cheeks and actually dropped to the sheets. You whimpered and cried out and sagged in your bonds. I watched every muscle of your core try and curl you around your flaming nipples to protect them.

"And, two." I murmured with sick glee beside your ear. You were too absorbed to even notice. "There you go. All better." You continued to cry and hang there, your knees spread for balance as the rest of you hung from the cuffs.

I took up the flogger again and made a few strong strikes to drive the moment into your memory. Your tears didn't slow, and I didn't want them to. The flogger was draped over your shoulder again as I went to the table and grabbed the little homemade paracord flogger. It's fast, but the little knots in the end are so much more bark than bite. You didn't believe me as I told you that this one wasn't so bad. The unexpected pain of the nipple clamps being removed seemed to have shaken your trust in me. A few fast strikes was all it took to convince you.

"See? This one isn't so bad." You nodded grudgingly, sobs still wracking your body, but your tears were starting to slow. They no longer fell to the sheets beneath you. I had to fix that.

I left the cool ring of the little flogger at the base of your neck as I picked up the short latigo flogger from the table. The moment your eyes fastened on its stiff crimson leather, your eyes welled anew.

"This one's not your friend." I cooed beside your ear, holding the flogger tails up and letting you see how stiff they were. "This one is going to hurt. You're not going to like it. It is not your friend." Your body shook with fresh sobs as I trailed it over your arm and then along your back, building up your apprehension. Stoking the suspense. 

"I'm going to strike you ten times with this." I promised. You sobbed and shook your head. "And you're going to count each strike aloud." You convulsed around your whimper, a full body protest. "Isn't that right?" I gave my voice the slightest edge, expecting an answer.

You knew your place. "Yes, Daddy." You eventually choked out. I stepped up on the bed behind you, my sex ridged and slick as I loomed over you. I brought the flogger up, careful to avoid the ceiling fan, and then cast it down along your back.

"One!" You sobbed. I brought it down on the other side with equal force.

"Two!" You cried out. The next strike returned to the first side, but landed on your upturned ass.

"Three!" Your voice hitched part way, but you made sure it was clear. Four mirrored three.

"Five.." Your voice trailed slightly, but was still clear after the hard tails struck your thighs. Six was perhaps quieter, but it was clear, so I let it pass.

The crisp tails struck your upturned foot and I was met with silence as you struggled for breath. I waited. "Seven." You sobbed, your breathing growing irregular. You didn't make me wait for the matching one.

"Eight!" You cried out, your body wracked with sobs as you tried to gain your breath.

"Nine!" Returned to your back with greater force and made you jump.

I had to wait for you to find enough breath to get my "Ten." But it came. My good girl. I trailed the cruel instrument down your spine, your breathing finally escalating to hyperventilating. Your body shook. Your hands trembled in the cuffs.

"Easy. Easy. It's over. You did it. Easy. I've got you." I snapped up the deerhide in exchange for the latigo. Caressing the soft leather along your skin, one hand gently touching a shoulder, stroking your neck. "That's it. That's it. Breathe. Good job. You're okay. I've got you." I used the deerhide on you slowly. With all of my power I couldn't have hurt you with it, but I chose easy strikes all the same. Coaching you through deeper breaths. Trailing the soft leather along your abused body. Gentle strikes.

"Breathe in," I said and drew a deep breath of my own, encouraging you to follow my lead, "and out." The air rushing out of my lungs, trembling out of yours. "And in," I led again, "out." With time, your breathing regained some of its control.

"Now, you're going to count down from ten." The flogger came down with average force. Being deerhide, that was about the force of beating you with a pillow.

"Ten." Your voice wavered.

"Nine." It shook.

"Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two." Each count your voice grew firmer. Your shaking slowed. Stopped.

I gave you the same force with the last strike. Even, consistent. "One." No break. Your breathing steady. Centred.

I laid the flogger across your shoulders and stepped off the bed. My fingers deftly released the carabiners, then freed you from the cuffs, setting them aside. I brought us close, skin to skin. My lips found yours, brows rested together. My hands soothed your tormented flesh.

I coaxed you down on the bed and shepherded you onto your side. My arm slipped beneath your neck and my naked body wrapped in around yours. My heavy arm draped over your shoulders and cradled your arms in close, my leg trapped yours, pulled us close.

"Good girl. You did so well. I got you. You're okay. Daddy's got you. You did so well. Good girl." I murmured softly beside your ear. Your body melted against mine. I kissed your hair, whispering praise. I brought the back of my hand up and you took it in hand, pulling it to your lips you kissed the ring reverently and then held my hand to your breast. I think that does a lot for both of us.

I held you tenderly for a few seconds, then my arm came back and I spit in my hand. I reached down and smeared it along your ass. Another mouthful shared along your ring and my length and then I shifted my hips closer and my crown prodded your tight entrance. Good girl that you are, you offered no resistance. 

I pushed forward, parting your tight little bud around my swollen head, then continued pushing. Deeper, deeper. You hollowed your back and offered me more and I readily took it. One long, even thrust to bury myself completely in your ass. We both groaned at the delicious progress you have made. My tenderness was quickly consumed by my greed. My right hand bit into your hip and pulled you back into eager, deep thrusts. My left arm under your neck, wrapped around to squeeze your chest, pulling you tight against me and preventing you from getting away from me, accidentally or on purpose.

With everything that had lead up to this, and my own overwhelming pleasure derived from this act, it didn't take long for my climax to climb and threaten. I buried myself deep and stayed perfectly still. The two of us panted, me refusing to stimulate myself even a single thrust more. I could feel my precum leaking from my engorged prick. That was all I would let you have in the moment. 

Once I regained a bit of control, I returned to our delicious torment. Long, full