Working through this together.
“No.”
“No, what? Remember your manners. We've slipped somewhat recently in our rules. It's time to put them firmly back in place.”
“No, Miss.”
“Do you understand why you need to be punished, my boy?”
“Yes, Miss.”
"Stand with your hands against the wall, feet apart, head down." She steps back and crosses her arms. As I rise to stand, my head lifts and my breath catches. Isabelle stands there, looking glorious, her luscious figure showcased in her black lace lingerie, the curve of her hips and thighs making me groan silently. She watches me, her arms crossed under her ample breasts, a flogger in hand.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
My heart rate spikes at the thought of the sting it could deliver, the bite of the leather strands and the warming burn that follows.
The very sight of her there, the streetlight streaming from the windows across her features and her full lips curved in a subtle smile, sends shivers through me. It’s a smile that simultaneously makes me feel like I’m the king of the world to have her by my side, yet reminds me that I have lied to her and betrayed her trust. I take a couple of steps to the wall, my legs feeling shaky from the adrenaline racing through me, and place my palms on the cool plaster, bowing my head once again.
"You’re getting good at your wall arrest position." Her words caress my soul as she comes closer, her presence almost overwhelming. I’ve fucked up by lying to her, that pathetic attempt to hide my secrets, and now I’m about to pay for it. But even as the flogger rests in her hand, I can feel her nurturing energy wrapping around me like a warm blanket, turning this punishment into something almost therapeutic.
She trails a fingertip down my spine, causing a shiver to ripple over my skin as I gasp. Every sensation is heightened by the wait, the anticipation of what’s to come, my craving to please her and make her happy, to serve her and satisfy her in every way I can.
Yes, Miss
"Safe word or colours, James, your choice." She stands to my side and tilts her head around me to make eye contact, her dark waves falling slightly into her face, creating more shadows, but the light glints off her eyes, and I’m lost in the blue jewels staring back at me.
Desire mixed with care and compassion fills those beautiful eyes as I whisper, "Safe word,” unable to break the hypnosis she has me under. I don’t want the option of slowing things down tonight, making her pause or doubt my commitment to this moment. I’m all in and all hers. I’ll take my punishment and give her everything.
"What’s your word? Make it loud and clear, James. I want you to be proud of your submission." She instructs.
"Erm…" My mind goes blank. Why can’t I think of a word?
"I'm waiting."
"Erm, okay, erm… Toast." Oh my God! Nice one, dickhead. Where did fucking ‘toast’ come from? I couldn’t just do something cool like Jaguar or Sunrise, damn it.
"Toast it is." She lets out a small laugh but cuts it short, a clear attempt at trying to stay serious. She trails the strands of the flogger over her hands, letting each strip of leather drop as she walks around me and stands to my side. "I’m going to punish you now, and I want you to count out each strike. Remember, I do this for you, my darling."
Alexandra Ravensbrook
She steps closer, her voice soft and soothing as she trails the flogger across my bare back, the leather strands teasing my skin like a lover’s fingertips.
"The first strike, gentle as a whisper, to remind you that I care," she says, and I brace myself. The flogger lands lightly on my shoulders, a soft tap that sends a ripple of warmth through me rather than pain. It stings just enough to make me gasp, my cock twitching as I think about how she’s doing this for me, to help me be a better man.
It feels good in a way I can’t explain; her dominance isn’t cruel or controlling, it’s like she’s guiding me, teaching me. My mind races with guilt and gratitude, the lies I’ve told bubbling up as a knot in my throat.
"Count them out, James," she instructs, her voice firm but soft, trailing her finger over my shoulders.
"One." My heart races, waiting for the next strike.
She pauses, stroking my hair with her other hand, her touch affectionate and grounding.
"Second strike, a bit harder now, but still with love," she murmurs, and I nod, surrendering to her. The flogger comes down harder this time, the tails biting into my skin with a stronger force that leaves faint pink marks.
Pain blooms across my back, sharp and insistent, making my knees weaken but warming the surrounding
Yes, Miss
