Page 82 of Lizbeth's Lesbian Collection

“No,” Leslie replied.

From the pocket of her skirt, Leta pulled out nipple clamps and dangled them before Leslie’s curious eyes. Despite Leslie’s dominant attire, Leta thought of herself as the dominant in this scene and Leslie her untrained sub, something that hardly fazed the bemused PI. She feared the pain that might follow, but did nothing to stop the sumptuous black woman’s seductive advances.

“How about we start really slow,” Leta purred, with loving tones. Taking each nipple in her slender black hands, she attached the biting clamps to Leslie’s nipples. That the buds of Leslie’s breasts were already erect made it that much easier. “My, you have enormous nipples, you should have them pierced.” Leslie shuddered – although, at that moment, she’d probably have consented to just about anything. “Little rings, maybe?” Leta added, flicking her red lacquered nails against the tiny buds.

The sensations that followed were exquisite, a soft burning feeling moved through Leslie’s body, settling in her cunt, while the heavy chain that joined her clamped nipples dangled between her breasts, and gave her constant stimulation she could not ignore. Even though the scene had just begun, she was starting to comprehend the reasons for this kind of sex.

Backing away from her now, Leta turned her attention to Leslie’s leather clad bottom, running a hand along the polished surface of her pants.

“Humm, yes,” Leslie groaned, feeling the gentle touch all the way to her cunt.

When Leta smacked her ass, a satisfying warmth spread through Leslie’s rear. A dozen smacks more and the lovely sensation just increased.

“On your hands and knees,” Leta ordered—even though there was hardly a demand in her voice.

Leslie obeyed unthinkingly, while Leta drew a riding crop from the wall. The woman walked around her newbie sub, taunting her as she whisked the leather implement through the air; its sound as noxious as Si

r Jane’s cane. Unlike the cane however, this instrument had a wide flat end that would make a far different impression on a yielding ass. At first just taunting her, Leta then made a sudden change, quickly rapping Leslie’s bottom with a half dozen sharp snaps. The sound was ferocious, each strike to Leslie’s upturned bottom, seemingly ruthless, though it only added another measure of delight. Leslie tried to forget the way she’d so abruptly consented to this, how in the past she believed that being submissive was contrary to her nature. All her former objections didn’t seem to matter in light of what she felt now. Her squirms and moans were simply pleas for more, and she was not the least bit upset when the strikes from the crop came hard and fast.

“You ready for this?” the gentle dominant purred. She bent down and reached around Leslie’s waist to find the button on her leather jeans. She had them off Leslie’s ass seconds later, before her submissive could even reply. Seeing Leslie’s bare butt wiggling in anticipation was all the encouragement Leta needed. “My, I’ve hardly made it red,” she declared. “Your pants have protected you too well. You’ll have to learn to take a whole lot more before we’ll call you sub.” She said it sweetly, but she meant it.

This time the crop landed cruelly, sending sharp jolts through Leslie’s rear, though they were still no less welcome. There was no way Leslie could stop this, even as she felt a steady burn rising on her skin, a burn that quickly turned into an edgy, biting pain. What she needed now was to come. Her body ached in ways it never had before. The savage beating produced a savage arousal until she thought she would explode.

When Leta collapsed at her side, her smooth black hand found its way between Leslie’s legs where she was sopping wet. The two then tumbled into each other’s arms with Leslie welcoming the sensuous kisses that covered her face and neck. She came seconds later with her hips bucking violently against Leta’s hand, and the grinding spasms of climax filling her with their cruel pleasure.

“Come here, slut, and please me now!” Leta demanded. Without giving her sub time to recoup, she pulled Leslie to her glistening pussy, forcing Leslie’s mouth into the steamy furrow. As her subbie licked and sucked and lapped her juicy snatch, she came, whimpering softly. Her nail’s dug into the brunette’s hair as she released with a throaty bellow. “Oh, my god, yesssssssss….”

“Perhaps you like this more than you thought you would?” Leta suggested, while Leslie snuggled against the woman’s smooth dark legs. Indeed, she loved it more than she ever imagined she could. Although making love to Leta was not so very different from making love to other women, to Rosalie, and at one time to Robin. She found Leta’s nurturing style beguiling – and the riding crop, more stimulating than painful. She would never have called their brief fuck S&M – she thought of S&M as savage and cruel, but there was nothing cruel about this at all.

Perhaps more fascinating to Leslie was Jane and her exhibition of heavy-handed ruthlessness; her cunning darkness mixed with a little trace of tenderness. A remarkable desire was born in Leslie, seeing the way Jane brutally ravaged Dagne. She hungered to call that woman “sir”, to bow at her feet, to give her body for the same mean and tender discipline. How was this possible after so many years on the outskirts of the S&M world? After a broken relationship with Robin? After dozens of refusals, denials and defiant rejections of something that now had the power to so profoundly arouse her?

Chapter Seven

“You what!” Robin exclaimed.

“I had sex with a black woman at the club. She used a riding crop on my ass.” For some inexplicable reason, Leslie had to tell Robin about the sex before she even mentioned her discoveries at Sapphos. It was the next morning, and the two were eating a cheese Danish, getting crumbs all over the desk in the small office they shared.

“And you were worried about me getting distracted! Do I have to go back and ask the questions?” Robin said, wiping her face and taking a long drink of coffee.

“No, I found out plenty,” Leslie replied.

“Like what?” Robin wanted proof, apparently content for the moment to dismiss Leslie’s astounding personal admission.

“Like Jane dominating Felicia,” Leslie said, rather proud of the revelation.

“What?”

“They were heavy into S&M games at Sapphos. Jane brought her there several times, and apparently Felicia was having the time of her life bowing to ‘Sir Jane’. Does that surprise you?” Leslie asked, looking at Robin’s stupefied expression.

“I don’t really know. But it certainly complicates things. Funny, not one of the other four women suggested the possibility. Apparently they kept it very quiet,” Robin surmised.

“Not only that, one woman I talked to thought that Jane was really in love with Felicia.”

“In love?” Robin wanted more.

“Felicia was apparently very special to our suspect, their intimate moments were not any secret to the women at the club.”

“How interesting,” Robin said. “I’d never have guessed that Felicia would want a woman as tough as Jane.”

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