Pain and Pleasure Read Free Page A

felt like butterflies fluttering around in my chest, and if I didn’t know better I’d swear the edges of their wings were tickling me.
    “Yes, I’m a filthy slut, and I want you to treat me as though I am one. A dirty, brazen hussy who likes nothing more than a good fuck in public places. And you’re good at that, fucking in public places. The idea of getting caught turns you on, doesn’t it?” I panted for a second or two, the images my words had conjured sending me lightheaded. “Except in here we’re not locked in, we’re not safe like we were on the train. Here, anyone could walk through that gap there and find us. It gets to you, doesn’t it, Sir?”
    “Fuck, yes. And you being in that cage, the one who’s standing there in nothing but a pair of boots and a skimpy pair of knickers, would be the one who’s going to be looked at first—and for longer. Imagine that security guard if he finds us. Think about the shock you’d give him. And the hard-on. Yes, sub, you think about that while I get my toys ready.”
    “I’m not your…”
    He shot me a look then turned to face away from me and ferreted about in his pocket. I craned my neck to see what he was doing then stopped myself. Wasn’t the anticipation part of the fun? Not knowing what he was going to produce? I didn’t care what it was so long as it gave me pain—and lots of it. I craved the ache of bitter sensation, the rawness, the utter severity of a streak of agony going through me as I built to orgasm.
    God, I wanted him to hurry up, to swivel to face me and reveal what he’d brought with him.
    “Are you ready, sub?” he asked, keeping his back to me, holding his hands in front of him, hiding what was within them.
    “Yes, Sir. Are you?”
    “Oh, I’m more than ready. I’ve had this on my mind for hours. All that’s left is to see how you cope with what I plan to do.”
    My stomach lurched at the same time my muscles there decided to spasm. I was high on excitement, on pins and needles to get this thing started. My arms were by my sides, but if he took any more time about it I’d end up massaging my tits and fingering myself. I needed stimulation, my body was screaming for attention.
    “Shut the door,” he said. “And secure it.”
    I did as he’d asked, dropping down a small catch. The thrill that gave me, being locked in but on show, like an animal, a possession, was out of this world.
    And tonight I was his possession.
    “Now then,” he said. “Move to the door and push yourself against it. Make sure your nipples poke through those square holes. I want to see your flesh bulging through them, too, small hills of skin that I can poke and hurt, just the way I think you like it.”
    Oh, yes, he knew exactly what I was after, knew my fantasies just as well as I knew them. I pressed my body to the door, my toes, my mound, my tits and face, glancing down to make sure I was applying enough pressure. My nipples, distended and so rock hard they ached, jutted proudly through two of the squares. I looked debased, as though this act alone had violated some form of code where couples just didn’t do this kind of thing with one another. Except in the world I longed to inhabit full-time they did—every day, every night and every spare moment between.
    “Close your eyes,” he said, voice sterner than I’d heard it before.
    I did, holding my breath, unable to stop a blast of visuals streaking across the insides of my eyelids. I couldn’t latch on to any of them, couldn’t harness them and inspect what they were, to tease myself with each image and revel in the feelings they produced. They raced by too fast, as though they were there to entice me to chase them, knowing they were too swift, too clever for me to catch them up.
    The warmth of his breath touched me first, then the slight connection of his tongue swiping across my mouth through the cage. I gasped, having been expecting pain and not something so delicate, so arousing, albeit on