Sarah complied, of course she did… she couldn’t have said no at that point, she was desperate. She felt the crop rest on her ass,teasingly, and then draw back. SMACK. She couldn’t help crying out as the glorious sting spread from where it had landed.
“What’s my name?”
“Amy.”
“Say it, each time.”
She felt the crop draw back again and this time when it landed she cried out, “Amy.”
“Good. You’re so good for me.”
The crop drew back again and Sarah was ready when it landed. “Amy.”
Ten more times it landed, ten more times she cried out Amy’s name, and the sensation was incredible… she would never have guessed how much she loved being on the receiving end of this.
Sarah heard Amy move round to stand in front of her. “You may kneel again and look.”
Sarah returned to kneeling and looked up. Amy was wearing Sarah’s silk dressing gown, tied loosely, the hem sitting mid-thigh and then a beautiful expanse of leg down to her heels. So far as Sarah could see there was nothing underneath. She was holding the riding crop in one hand, the other hand resting on her hip, and she looked utterly, devastatingly in command.
“Stand up,” Amy said, and Sarah stood. Amy looked her up and down. “I’d like to try the bar. Get the restraints and the blindfold.”
Sarah went to the chest of drawers and retrieved the leather cuffs, the other spreader bar, and the blindfold. She put them on the bed and stood waiting.
Amy picked up the wrist cuffs, turning them over in her hands. “You put this bar in the ceiling, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Amy.”
“Who was it for?”
Sarah paused. The honest answer was complicated. “For my mentees, Amy.”
“And did you ever think about someone putting you up there?”
“I…” Sarah hesitated, then chose honesty as the best policy. “Maybe, Amy.”
Amy smiled. “Good. Arms up.”
Sarah raised her arms and Amy fastened the cuffs around her wrists, clipping them to the bar above. Then she knelt and fastened the spreader bar between her ankles, adjusting it so that Sarah’s legs were parted, her feet shoulder-width apart.
Sarah stood there, arms above her head, legs spread, naked and restrained in her own bedroom, in equipment she’d only used on others, and felt a disorienting, thrilling inversion of everything she normally knew. Even the few times she’d submitted to Amy before were nothing like this.
Amy stood up and looked at her. “One more thing.” She picked up the blindfold and held it up. “Trust me?”
“Completely, Amy.”
The blindfold went over her eyes and the world went dark.
“Now,” Amy said, and Sarah heard the quiet swish of the riding crop cutting through the air a moment before it landed on her rear. Not too hard, but sharp enough to make her gasp, landing where it still stung from a few minutes before. “Let’s have some fun.”
***
Amy circled her, slowly and deliberately, the click of the heels the only marker for Sarah of where she was. The crop landed unpredictably, anywhere and everywhere, not hard enough to truly hurt but always enough to sting. Between strikes Amy’s fingers would go to where the crop had landed, soothing and teasing at the same time, and the contrast between the two was staggering.
“Tell me what you’d do to me,” Amy said, trailing the crop down Sarah’s inner thigh, “if our positions were reversed.”
Sarah’s breath was ragged. The blindfold made everything more intense, every touch a surprise, every silence loaded with anticipation. “I’d strip you naked, Amy,” she said. “Completely.”
A tap of the crop, light and encouraging. “Go on.”
