Reckless: A Dark Romance (The Masters Book 1) by Sansa Rayne

Author:Sansa Rayne [Rayne, Sansa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sasha Rich Books
Published: 2021-04-19T16:00:00+00:00

Madeleine’s firm, round ass quivers as I run my hand up her thigh. She breathes heavily. Her hands buck against the solid wooden yoke locking her wrists and neck in place. The stockade keeps her in a torturous position: knees bent, backside hanging out. Her legs must ache fiercely. She’s stood here quietly for an hour, though — a credit to her discipline. She obeys without question.

She’ll do nicely.

I spread a coat of lube on my cock and press it between her petite cheeks. She’s not tight like the college girls in Manhattan, and my rod slides in easily. Madeleine squeals, bouncing her hips, as if she could escape my inward thrust. I smack her ass hard, landing one hit after another until she’s howling in pain. Then I ram her ass deep, and pump it like a machine right from the start.

Madeleine trembles in place, wailing at the top of her lungs. I cup a hand over her mouth to muffle her, but the noise is still deafening. There’s no fucking way I’m listening to it for more than a couple minutes, so I pound wildly, aiming to hit my peak as fast as possible.

Does Madeleine enjoy it?

No. But she doesn’t have to. That’s not why she’s here.

My cock throbs as I release my load in her ass. She sighs as I pull out, either in relief from the pain or in disappointment for not getting to come.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself, sir,” she says, relaxing her body.

I’m not even officially a Master yet, and she’s already treating me like one. That’s sweet.

“We’re not done yet.”

Our room at the harem boasts an expansive selection of restraints, toys and torture tools. I’ve only used the stockade; there’s so much more to play with. I take my time scanning the selection of whips, canes and more before settling on a rectangular, wooden paddle. Swinging it for practice, it feels fairly light — a low-quality, surprisingly cheap toy.

“Has anyone ever used this on you?” I ask, showing Madeleine the paddle.

“No, sir.”

“Have you seen anyone use it before?”

“No, sir.”

“Have they used the other paddles?”

The selection on the wall has several; made of rubber and leather, studded and flat, square and round, they hang neatly from pegs.

“Yes, sir. Very often. But not that one,” Madeleine confirms.

I deliver my first stroke with all my strength. She screams, convulsing in place.

“What do you say?” I ask, rubbing the spot, a pink, glowing rectangle.

“Thank you… sir,” she moans. She pants heavily, clearly suffering.

When she finishes settling down, I smack the other side of her ass, just as hard. Though she yelps, this time she must have been ready: her reaction isn’t half as distressed as the last one. Excellent — there’s a fine line between enjoying a pet and abusing a slave, where the masochistic whimpers turn to anguished wails.

The second one’s only fun if it comes after the first — after she’s been suitably trained to take her torment without complaint. Like a frog in a boiling pot, she won’t feel the heat until she can’t take it anymore.

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