“I’d love to have a session with you, Sam. What kind would you like? I’m up for anything,” she said hopefully.Never tell someone you’re up for anything.
“What is your safe word?” I asked.
“I play with ‘red.’”
“I play with the same,” I admitted. “What are your hard limits?”
“None,” she said.
She blinked a few times when she said that. I had a strong feeling there was a hard limit lurking around. Maybe she was afraid to admit it in fear I wouldn’t play with her. If that was the case, that was dangerous. James would have taught her how to safely negotiate.
“None?” I asked, giving her another chance to inform me.
“Not really.”
“What is your hard limit, Alison?”
“Hair pulling,” she finally offered.
I nodded, letting her know that I acknowledged her limit.
“Follow me,” I said.
I led us down the corridor to a room that was typically available whenever I came to Oxygen. For the most part it was an empty room. I’d seen it used with interrogation sessions and even a simple room for aftercare. Along one wall there were several impact tools and toys for the players to use to help facilitate their session. All I needed was a crop.
“Remove your clothes and kneel with your back to the room’s entrance. You may sit back on your heels,” I instructed. “Clasp your hands behind your head. You will not speak unless spoken to, or if you need to say your safe word.”
I walked to the wall that held all the tools and picked up a crop. When I turned around, Alison was naked and kneeling, just as I had asked. With the crop in hand, I picked up the wooden chair that was against the wall and set it two feet in front of Alison. I wasn’t surprised that she had her legs already parted some, though not quite enough. I sat on the chair and observed her.
The first thing I allowed myself to notice was a small patch of dark pubic hair. Since she was sitting back on her heels with parted legs, I was able to see a hint of a swollen clit.
Without the bra in the way, I could see her beautiful breasts with large areolas and hard nipples. I leaned forward, reached out with the crop, and tapped the underside of each of her breasts. I flattened the tip of the crop on her chest and slowly traced her breast with it. I made sure the leather flap touched every millimeter of her breast. I dragged the flap around the areola as if I were painting over it with the crop. With pinpoint accuracy, I slapped the tip down on her engorged nipple, causing her to shriek.
Alison opened her mouth to speak, and I gently placed the tip of the crop against her lips. Her pulse had increased. Our eyes connected, and a smile broke out on her face.
“Do you need to say your safe word?” I asked as the crop’s tip was still against her lips. She shook her head. Good, she didn’t feel like she had to speak. “Good girl.”
I moved the crop along her other breast, repeating everything I had just done. After her shriek died down, I moved the crop down her sternum and over her ribs and then painted her abdomen. She was in a relaxed pose, which formed a couple little rolls in her flesh around the midsection. It obviously made her slightly uncomfortable with me drawing attention to it with the crop. That or she felt guilty, like many people did. She tried to suck it in, but I tapped her abdomen.
“Don’t move, Alison,” I told her.
I let the crop slowly move over each crease until I reached her right side. The crop moved like a sidewinder up her side to her armpit. I manipulated the crop to make a tickling motion when I saw the smile spread across her face. I guided the crop to slide along the underside of her upper arm, over the elbow, along her forearm, and across to the forearm on her left arm. The crop skimmed over her elbow, under her upper arm, and when I reached her armpit, another smile and a hint of a giggle came out. Just as I did to her right side, I guided the crop to slowly wind down her side and then across the creases of her abdomen.
“Answer me with a yes or no response only,” I said and then paused while I moved the crop up her sternum. “Does this feel good?”
“Yes,” she quickly said. I watched her lips and mouth to see if I could detect a compulsive flinch to say more, but I hadn’t.
“Good. I’m glad. My favorite thing to do is provide pleasure, Alison. And I can promise you that I’m very good at it. I have my own brand of pleasure; however, I understand yours.”
I slapped the crop’s tip down on her nipple. She shrieked again, and I looked into her eyes. Her spunky green orbs were almost completely shadowed by a dark disc. Her pupils were dilated, and she hung on to every word I said.
“Answer me with a yes or no response only,” I began. “Do you pleasure yourself daily?”
“Yes.”She liked to feel good.
“Good girl.”
I tapped the inside of her thighs with the crop and moved the flap in a painting motion from the top of her thighs to her knees. I repeated the painting motion, and as the tip moved up her thigh, I moved it to her pussy … her very wet pussy.
