Pain and Pleasure Read Online Free Page A

step back. Raised his eyebrows and folded his arms. “Excuse me?”
    “Come on. Get the hell on with it.”
    He tutted and shook his head. “Oh, dear, that’s really not very good behavior, is it?”
    Frustration bloomed within me. I could tell he was going to make a point of this obedience thing at exactly the wrong moment. I was gagging for it, my nipples, and the pain in them, ruling my thoughts. I needed tension on that chain again. I needed my pussy filling—properly, not just a swipe over my lips and a quick poke inside.
    “Mmm,” he said, eyeing me from toes to tits. “I suppose I should get on with it, time being of the essence and all, but just so we’re clear, there will come a day when I teach you patience, teach you how to hold off an orgasm when you’re in this state for a full twenty-four hours.”
    ‘In this state’—that’s what I was, in a state. The urge to masturbate was almost overwhelming. “Please,” I begged. “Please, Sir.”
    “A bit of begging will get you everywhere…tonight,” he said, suddenly stepping into the cage with me. It rattled a little and shifted under his added weight.
    He reached around me, pulled the door shut and flicked the catch.
    His body heat was like a balm to my flesh, the feel of his clothing on my bare skin almost more arousing than nakedness. The buttons on his jacket were sharp and cold on my back, the material a little rough. The tight weave of his trousers on my sore arse, combined with a solid bulge, made me groan and shut my eyes.
    “Put your arms out, hold onto the door,” he said, guiding my hands to the metal squares. “That’s it, now step back, until the chain is tight.”
    I did as he’d asked. When my elbows were locked, the chain was at full stretch, elongating my nipples so they were slender and shouting loudly to my nerves about their abuse.
    “Oh, yeah,” he breathed into my ear. “Perfect, just as I’d dreamed of seeing you. Fuck, that’s what almost made me come at work, thinking of you like this. Caged, owned by my chain, at my mercy. Fucking hell, Isabella, you’re so damn good at this, why do you deny it?”
    “Deny what?” I panted.
    “That you are a sub. Jesus, look at you. Could you be any more controlled, subservient, compliant to my demands?”
    “I just want you to fuck me,” I said, a sob bubbling up as I let my head hang low. “Please, fuck me, hard, while my tits are like this, please.”
    “Please what?” He ran his hands down my back, drifted them over my arse then up my front, my stomach, my ribs, around to my shoulders. “Please, what?” He gave my right buttock a stinging slap.
    “Ah…” I jerked forwards then backwards. The slice of pain mixed with the darts of agony my movements had created in my nipples.
    “Say it,” he snarled. “Dear God, say it or I swear I will fucking walk away now. Leave you here like this.”
    He wouldn’t. Surely not? He had a hard-on that could rival a piece of timber and I could practically smell the need coming from him.
    “Say it. Say I’m your Master and you are my sub, that you will obey me, come only when told to, perform whatever I desire of you in return for me giving you pleasure of the extreme variety and protecting and caring for you.”
    “Yes, whatever…ah, bloody hell!”
    He’d coiled his hand into my hair, dragged my head up so I was looking at the ceiling of the cage. “You should know that I am a fair Master,” he said hotly against my neck. “But I will not finish this scene, in here, with you, unless you admit to what is buried deep within you.”
    “Sir…” I panted, each breath generating new shards of pain in my breasts. “I have nothing buried within me.”
    “I can see it as plain as day.” He kissed my ear noisily, then down my neck. “You’re a pain slut, yes, but when you call me Sir, your pupils go wide from your excitement. You obey orders like a professional when you forget to be subordinate, and my God…” He paused,