Prelude 3 (i)

Prelude 3 (i)
Bree’s dirty secret was pain. 
Her dopamine was pain. Her sugar fix was pain. Her medication was pain. She could reach heaven and stay there if she was in pain. 
Bree’s eyes were closed. She was breathing deeply and regularly, her mind was blank, and her senses swayed with the rhythm and beat of music coming from the speakers. Voi Che Sapete from Figaro was playing. The AC was cold on her skin, her delicate wrists and ankles were chained to a circular, wooden frame standing in the middle of the large room, her legs wide open. She only had panties to cover her nakedness, but she didn’t feel any shame at all that her body was exposed like this to the eyes of the man who held the whip in the communal room here in the chapel of Sinful Saints. He was the most important person in the world to her at the moment. 
The first lash of the whip at Bree’s back would have brought her to her knees had she not been chained. She managed not to make a sound escape but her tears ran down her cheeks. Her jaws tensed as she clenched her teeth. My god… it hurts. But she could also feel that tingly sensation in the quivering flesh at the apex of her thighs, and the chains were the only reason why she wasn’t keeping them tightly together so she could feel more pleasure. 
But she needed more pain. She could wait. 
The second and the third slashes hit, and saliva was mixed with snot and tears. Sweat beaded her face, sliding down her neck, and it was hard to maintain regular breathing. She signed up for ten. Seven more to go. A few more whipping sounds were heard in the air and lashes landing on her naked back. Bree couldn’t comprehend how she could still remain silent with each extremely painful burning lash. Her knees had given way and she was now swaying from her chains, her arms sweetly aching from the pressure. She could barely feel the cold from the AC unit as her whole body was now covered in a thin, shiny layer of sweat. The next minutes felt like days, until at last the tenth lash hit her skin. It felt like the hundredth and her cries finally escaped from lips that felt as painful now as her whole body, her breathing raggedly forced out of her lungs. 
She again forced control over her breathing, leaving hurt and pain by compelling her mind to quiet. It was almost impossible. All the nerve endings in her back burned so painfully. It was most likely at this point she would faint rather than meditate. Her whole body quaked. Adrenaline was the only fuel that kept her conscious. This was the most painful she had ever been physically. She had clenched her jaw so tightly and for so long she had to take a while to unclench them. 
“T-Thank you…” she managed to whisper when the man rounded the frame and stood in front of her now. It was very hard to raise her head—it seemed as heavy as a boulder—but she could now see his face and he had one of the loveliest features she had ever seen in a man. There was no doubt he was one of the Sinful Saints—private male individuals behind the Secret Sins Club—and to experience at least one of them meant she had been chosen. That she had been observed and had passed the meticulous benchmark that only the members had knowledge of. And she never imagined she could be with even one of them in a session. She visited Secret Sins Club because this was the only place she could trust that she could be her basest self without anyone judging her. She wanted to be herself in all her light, and most of all her darkness. She hadn’t expected to get the attention of any one of them. 
“You’re welcome,” she heard him reply. She could feel his eyes roaming over her, critical and skilled. His palms held both sides of her chest, and they traced the shape of her body downwards, until they reached the garters of her panties. “This is ruined, Bree. You did well. We’re going to take this off now, okay?” he told her in a polite baritone.
“Y-Yes,” she croaked. 
“I’ll be careful,” he promised her before he slowly and carefully slid the last cloth down her thighs, ripping one side so it could go down one leg. She slowly gasped because his position placed his face exactly at the level of her exposed pussy. He smiled up at her, and then his tongue came out of his mouth, and he laved her there, the rough pad rubbing over the exposed head of her little clit between the labias.
Electricity from the very spot zinged up at her and shot down every nerve ending of her body. The breath that escaped her mouth quivered as she tried desperately to calm herself.
“Hmm… you’re so sweet… I love it,” he said as he straightened up. “What do you say, Bree?” His voice had become modulated, almost proper.
“Thank you…” she repeated, her voice stronger now and not the whisper of the last. 
He raised his hands and freed one wrist, then the other from their chains. This time, her breath came out a whoosh because of cramped muscles. Her body melted towards his waiting arms. When her naked breasts met his naked chest, she had no care that he was a virtual stranger. He was a warm body supporting her helpless one. He was important. 
“Thank you... thank you,” she said again. A kiss at her brows was her prize. Carefully holding her so he wouldn’t disturb the bloody lashes at her back, he used a wet towel smelling of lemon and ginger to clean her face. She thanked him again after this. She could smell blood but she couldn’t feel any emotions over this. She knew this would happen, she expected this, and they weren’t even done yet. 
“I can’t carry you like the normal carry. C’mon, Bree. I’ll raise you. Ready?”
She managed to nod as she basked in the pleasurable sensation effected by his sexy voice on her body. Oh my God, it is happening.  
“Wrap your legs around my torso,” he instructed when he’d raised her, holding her on her waist. She obeyed, even if her limbs felt as heavy as rocks. When that was done, there was enough leverage for him to slide his hands down her butt cheeks where he’d raised her to a much better position against him. Her hands went around his neck, her head falling down his shoulder, her body feeling not a tinge of shame or strangeness at the intimate way their bodies pressed now against each other. He brought her to the huge bed on one side of the spacious room in this position, then carefully laid her down on the mattress and pillows in her front. The pillows were positioned in a way that would place her in an scandalous prone pose that would have been shameful in another place with another man. Fewer pillows lowered the upper part of her body and more of them raised her lower part, placing her butt in the air. Her knees were slightly folded on each side, as he placed them wide apart. It was like she was flaunting her pussy at him. Instead, he placed a thin cloth to cover her there without it ever touching the still painful, although a bit numbed, lashes.