He moved in to kiss her shoulders again, trailing his lips over her collarbone, then lower, between her lush breasts. Lord, he needed to fill his hands with that soft flesh, but they’d agreed she wouldn’t be any more naked than this in the Dungeon. He gathered her tits in his hands and pushed them together, kissing the mounds at the edge of the red lace before taking a step back.
“We’ll use the spanking bench,” he told her. “Up you go, now.”
He helped her settle her knees on the pads made for that purpose, then her elbows on the armrests, attached his cuffs to the carabiners set into the bench with eyebolts, and cuffed her ankles and wrists. He checked to see how snug they were, adjusted one cuff, then immediately began to stroke her bodywith his hands. He swept his palms over her spine, up and down from her neck to the top of her thong, then back up again, paying attention to her breathing, hearing a tiny catch in her breath any time he reached the base of her spine, the back of her neck.
Noted.
“Take some deep breaths, Claudia. Good. Very good. Try to relax under my touch.”
She did as he asked, and he kept stroking his palms over her skin, down over her ass, then her thighs, her calves, even the bottoms of her feet. Working his way back up, he began to massage her: her thighs, her buttocks, her sides, then her shoulders. And just when she relaxed under his hands, he smacked her ass hard.
“Oh!”
“You can take it, Claudia. I know you can,” he said before smacking her again. “Tell me, are we green?”
“Yes. We’re green, Sir.”
Sir.
Oh, fuck, how he loved that—that she’d said it on her own, without him asking her to.
“Very good,” he told her before beginning to spank her.
His hand came down on one butt cheek, then the other, and he sank into the rhythm of the music playing. The bass line shifted tempo, and he smacked her faster, harder, building along with the music. He watched her body language, listened closely to every gasp and quiet moan. He needed more from her, needed to bring out more in her, needed her to let go. She was monitoring herself too closely, when what she needed most was to get out of her head.
With one hand on her back, he reached over to the table and grabbed the leather flogger. He draped the falls over her back and slowly pulled it down her spine, inch by inch. She shivered as he drew the leather over her skin, her body tensing a littlewhen he reached that sensitive spot at the top of her thong. Then he pulled his arm back and struck the back of her shoulder. She moaned so softly he barely heard it. He did it again, then again, waiting for her to warm up, for her silence and stillness to break.
He kept up the cadence, smacking one shoulder, then the other, back and forth, working his way down a little. Her skin was pinking nicely, but she was still too quiet.
He paused and bent to speak close to her ear. “You need to let go, Claudia. I need to see your response. I need to hear you. You’re holding back. We don’t need to know why right now; you simply need to open yourself. We both already know you enjoy the pain, that you love leather. Let it all go, pretty girl. Can you do that for me?”
“I’ll try, Sir.”
“Good girl.” He laid a hand on the back of her neck. Her skin was warm. “Let’s try this again.”
Once more he began to flog her back, then moved down to smack her ass with the leather falls, but she remained quiet, other than the tiniest sighs, still giving him nothing. He’d have to try something else.
He moved down to her feet, and using the tips of the flogger, he fluttered them over the soles.
“Oh!” she yelped, then giggled, trying to pull her foot away, but she was held by the cuff around her ankle.
“Oh, is that the secret, then? You’re ticklish?”
“No,” she protested. Then yelped, “No!” when he tickled her foot again.
Grinning to himself, he laid the flogger down the length of her back. “Don’t let it drop,” he commanded her, then tickled the soles of both her feet with his fingertips.
She was giggling, trying to swallow the sound, but when he moved up to tickle her bare sides, she yelped. “Stop!”
“My beautiful girl, ‘stop’ is not a safe word. Are you safewording?”
“Noooooooo!”
“I thought not,” he told her, then went back at it, searching and finding all her most sensitive spots. When he reached under her and dug into the tender spot where her thigh met the front of her hip, she let out a short scream.
“Ahhh! No, no, no, no!”
But he didn’t stop. He kept up the torture, grinning like a mad man as she wriggled and laughed and yelped under his hands, and the flogger fell to the floor.
