Best Bondage Erotica 2012 by Rachel Kramer Bussel

didn’t want him to remove the blindfold. She didn’t want to see the self-satisfied grins of the
men who’d put her at the center of their mutual experiment. All Kristi knew was that however incredible the last fuck had been, she was more than ready for another one. She wanted it now. She wanted it thrashed out of her, and she wanted her unexpected audience to watch.
    Without saying a word, Mark wrenched up Kristi’s hands and fastened them behind her back with handcuffs. Bending her as if she was some sort of rubber doll, he threaded a rough piece of rope around her breasts in a figure-eight pattern, pulling it so that the hemp scratched her skin.
    As the first blow came to her bound tits, Kristi smiled through her cries. It looked as if she was going to get what she most desired after all….

SUFFER FOR ME
    Teresa Noelle Roberts
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    Martin said, “I want to suffer for you.”
    I smiled. I tried to make it an aloof, catlike one, but my heart ached with a combination of tenderness and lust and I’m sure it showed on my face. “You’re such a good boy,” I said, continuing to stroke his long, brown hair. “And so beautiful. Why would I want to make you suffer?”
    He was sitting at my feet, his head in my lap. He looked up at me, his eyes huge and lost, almost tragic. “Please…I want to be worthy of you, Ma’am. I want to suffer for you.”
    Martin was younger than me and new to revealing his own submissive nature. The admission had released a streak of dark romanticism, abetted by much erotica read with too little grounding in reality. I could chuckle about it, remembering my own early, fantasy-fueled explorations ten years ago, and yet his leather- and hemp-scented romantic fancies, his yearning devotion, had swept me off my feet just as much as my firm but sensual control had swept him off his. Now we were trying to
figure out where to go from here. I was the experienced one, and I had definite ideas where I wanted things to go with my beautiful, biddable Martin, but a responsible Domme finds a balance between her own needs and those of her sub. This was especially important at Martin’s delicate exploratory stage, where a wrong move could sour his fascination not just with me, but with kink.
    I tangled my fingers in his hair, tugging cruelly. “If you weren’t worthy of me, you wouldn’t be here,” I said, dropping my voice to a low, ominous register. “Do you question my judgment, or my taste?”
    â€œNo. I…I…I’m sorry.” He froze, his entire body rigid with tension. I was sure his cock was rigid as well, caught up in imagining the painful punishment he was sure was on its way, half dreaded, half longed for. “I just thought…” his voice dropped off and he almost whispered the end of the sentence, “I thought maybe you wanted me to beg for it, Ma’am. I mean, you control me, and you tease me, and you make me take care of you in different ways, but you’ve never really hurt me and I thought…”
    â€œThat’s your problem, Martin. You think too much. I’ll make you suffer when I want to, in my way, in my own time. Meanwhile, sweet boy, put that tongue of yours to better use than saying silly things out of bad porn.” I lifted his head off my lap long enough to raise my skirt. He didn’t need further encouragement, and whether or not the delightful alchemy between his tongue and my clit stopped him from thinking, it stopped me.
    But not before I’d come up with an idea. He wanted to suffer for me, and a delightful, obedient, clever-tongued morsel like Martin deserved to get what he wanted. I wasn’t that fond of inflicting serious pain, though; too much work for too little enjoyment on my end. It was only worthwhile for me if a boy
really craved pain, needed it to be fulfilled, and my gut instinct was that Martin