Beyond Romance: Have you ever been beaten by a lover? #BDSM #FirstNovel #SaturdaySpanks

I haven’t done a Saturday Spanks post in a while. Today I’m sharing an excerpt from my very first novel, Raw Silk. In fact, this is the first flogging scene I ever wrote.

Not bad, I think, for an amateur...

Blurb

In a foreign land, a woman discovers exotic new realms of the senses…

When software engineer Kate O’Neill leaves her lover David to take a job in Thailand, she becomes sexually involved with two very different men—a handsome and debauched member of the Thai aristocracy, and the charismatic proprietor of a sex bar.

Each touches her in a different way, each teaches her different things about her body and her heart.

Then David comes to Bangkok, and Kate realizes that, finally, she must choose one of the three men who all desire her.

Excerpt

The lights of Bangkok sparkled below. Could anyone see her, naked and restrained, framed by the rosy glow behind her? As the leather-attired giant tied her other wrist to the ring on the opposite wall, Kate wondered about the other women Gregory had lured to this hotel room. And men? So far she had seen no indication that his dominant stance extended only to females. His manipulation of Edward Harrison suggested the contrary. Who were they? How did they behave? How much pain, how much humiliation could they endure?

More than she could, no doubt. All at once she felt woefully inadequate. She watched Marshall, as he finished off a neat bowline and tested its strength. How could she ever satisfy him?

He caught her glance, read the distress in her eyes. “Yes, I admit I’ve brought others here, to my comfortable urban dungeon. But that should not concern you.”

She was fully bound now, arms stretched wide across the window alcove.

“Spread your legs a little more,” he interrupted himself to order. “You’ll find that you’re more stable.”

He stood before her, hands on his hips. “You are mine now, Kate, mine because I chose to make you mine. Mine because you chose to answer my call.” He brushed the hair back from her anxious eyes. “Your role is to obey me, to serve me and please me.” He paused then continued softly, “And you do, Kate. You please me greatly, even in your innocence and inexperience.If there are others who also serve, what is that to you? You should be grateful to them, for giving your Master pleasure.”

Kate felt her jealousy and despair melt away. He was right. As long as she could give him what he wanted, what else mattered?

She heard him moving behind her, near the bed, then he stood before her again, something dark in his hands.

“I left this on the bed, also, for you to examine and consider. But apparently you did not notice—or did not allow yourself to do so.”

He held out the article for her inspection. Kate swallowed the lump in her throat. The item in his hands was clearly some sort of leather whip.

“The technical term,” Gregory said, smiling, “is cat-o’-nine-tails. You’ll notice the many strands of leather radiating from the handle.” He grasped the handle, which was neatly encased in braided leather, in his left hand, running his right over the strands as if caressing a lover’s hair. “Each thong ends with a knot. When used correctly, the thongs apply a sharp heat, while the knots digging into the skin provide an extra sting.”

He dangled the whip above her shoulder, the knots just touching then brushed it across her breasts. The leather was amazingly soft, but as he dragged it across her still-swollen nipples, she felt the echo of the clamps on her flesh.

Now he was delicately tracing an upward path, from her pubic fur across her belly, sending delicious tremors up her spine and down her bound arms. Thus far, he was using the cat-o’-nine-tails as an instrument of pure pleasure.

He spoke again, without stopping his leather caresses. “Have you ever been beaten by a lover?”

She shook her head, and felt herself blush, though she didn’t understand why.

“Have you ever dreamed or fantasized about such a thing?”

“No,” she said, indignant. “Of course not.”

Gregory laughed. “Of course not? Indeed! Perhaps you don’t remember your dreams, Kate.”

He leaned close to her ear, whispering, “The first time I laid eyes on you, I sensed that you craved the whip. I saw it in your eyes, in the way you moved, in your fierce, almost defiant independence. I felt your yearning to be mastered, to be set free.”

She hung her head, silent. Was what he said true? Did she really know so little of herself?

“I want to whip you, Kate, whip you well, to open your mind and your senses to the possibilities within you.”

He lifted her chin with the end of the whip, so that her eyes met his.

“Will you do this for me? Do you dare to take this next step?”

His gaze was a spotlight, searching to the depths of her soul. Kate felt fear and desire, rebellion—I’ll show him what I dare!—and devotion—How could I not do whatever pleases him? She found herself fascinated by the leather implement of punishment that he wielded with such familiarity. She was curious, disgusted, and, as usual in Marshall’s presence, unbelievably aroused.

Finally she answered. “Yes,” she said softly. “I dare. For you.” Her cheeks burned at admitting her weakness.

“Good,” he said. “Once again, you do not disappoint me.” He circled around behind her. “Now, relax. And breathe.”

The first stroke caught her by surprise. Confused by her mixed emotions and muddled by her lust, she had not been thinking about the pain. Each leather strand was a red-hot wire, searing the flesh of her buttocks. She bit her lip, trying not to cry out.

A precise snap and a second stroke landed, a little lower, on the fullest part of her rump. “Ouch!” She could feel the individual traces left by the knots, a dozen separate bites all over those swelling cheeks.

“Does that hurt?” asked Gregory, with a little laugh. “But I have just begun.” He swung the whip three times in rapid succession, crisscrossing her behind with sharp leather kisses. Then there was another snapping sound, and the thongs raked across the sensitive skin on the backs of her thighs.

Kate whimpered. Each stroke built on the pain of the previous one. Her whole rear burned and stung, as the man behind her methodically applied the whip to her ass, her thighs, and her shoulders. She twisted and writhed, trying in vain to avoid the lashes. The bonds held her taut.

Gregory used an uneven rhythm, so that she could not anticipate the blows. There would be a pause of several breaths, then he would rain four or five quick strokes on her quivering flesh.

She could no longer feel the individual strands of the whip. All had blended into a hot haze of pain, streaking up and down her body. Tears pricked her eyes. She wished that she could see her tormentor. Perhaps that would give her courage.

Even as this thought came to her, he stopped. She felt his palms cupping her buttocks. Even against her inflamed skin, his touch was hot. Now she felt him sliding his fingers into her cunt, probing and massaging.

She knew that she was drenched with arousal, that the beating had left her sex more swollen and hungry than before. “Just testing,” said Gregory with his characteristic mocking tone. “I want to make sure that you are enjoying yourself.”

Buy Links (Ebook and Print)

Kinky Literature

http://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/361-raw-silk-/

Amazon US

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01AUSE5NE/

Amazon UK

http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01AUSE5NE/

Barnes & Noble

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/raw-silk-lisabet-sarai/1102328201?ean=9781786510051

Totally Bound

https://www.totallybound.com/raw-silk

Goodreads