“Safe words?”
“Red to stop, yellow to slow down, green to continue.”
“Perfect.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead, then stepped back. “Strip. Slowly. Let us see you.”
Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the hem of her sheer gown. I watched her pull it over her head and let it fall to the floor. The bra and panties followed, revealing her beautiful body inch by inch.
“Look at you,” I said, my voice rough with desire and pride. “Absolutely stunning. Now, go to the cross. Face it. Spread your arms and legs.”
She moved to the cross, the wood gleaming under the soft lighting. She spread herself as instructed, pressing her front against the padded surface.
I took my time securing her. Wrists first, checking the leather cuffs were snug but not too tight. Then ankles, spreading her legs wide. When I was done, she was completely exposed and vulnerable, unable to close her legs or protect herself.
“Test your restraints,” I instructed.
She pulled against them, and I watched her muscles flex as she confirmed she couldn’t move.
“Good. Now, I’m going to start with the flogger. It’s going to sting. It’s going to hurt. But I promise you’ll also love it. If it becomes too much, you safeword. Clear?”
“Yes, Sir.”
I moved to my bag I’d left here and selected my favorite two floggers. Soft leather falls, perfectly weighted. I’d used them hundreds of times, knew exactly how much force to apply, exactly where to land my choice for maximum effect.
I positioned myself behind her and let the falls trail across her shoulders first. A warning. A promise.
Then I brought one of them down.
The first strike landed across her shoulders, and she gasped. I didn’t give her time to fully process it before landing the second strike lower. Then the third.
I built a rhythm, the floggers each landing in different spots, never hitting the same place twice in a row. Her back. Her shoulders. Her ass. Her thighs. The pain accumulated, building from sting to burn to a deep, throbbing heat.
“Breathe through it,” I instructed. “Let your body adjust.”
I watched her focus on breathing, watched the tension in her shoulders slowly release as her body began producing endorphins. This was the magic of impact play. The way pain could transform into something else entirely.
After several minutes, I paused and retrieved a toy from the cabinet. Lex shifted on the couch, his eyes dark and attentive.
“This is a remote-controlled butterfly vibrator,” I explained, showing it to her. “I’m going to secure it in place, and then I’m going to torture you with it.”
“Yes, Sir,” she breathed.
I knelt behind her and positioned the butterfly carefully, the vibrating portion directly on her clit. I secured it with straps around her thighs, making sure it wouldn’t shift. Then I stood and held up the remote where she could see it.
“This has five levels,” I said. “We’re going to work through all of them.”
I turned it on to level one, and she moaned immediately, her hips trying to move despite the restraints.
“That’s it,” I murmured. “Feel it. But remember, you don’t come without permission.”
I resumed the flogging, and now she had dual sensations to process. Pain across her back and ass. Pleasure pulsing against her clit. I watched her struggle to categorize them, to separate them, and I knew the moment they began to blend together.
“Level two,” I announced, increasing the vibration.
She cried out, and I increased the intensity of the flogging to match. Harder strikes now, landing with more force. I wascareful to vary the location, never focusing on one spot long enough to cause real damage.
“You’re doing so well,” I praised, watching the red marks bloom across her skin. “Taking everything I give you. Being so good for me.”
“Please,” she gasped. “Please, Sir.”
