The party crowd is getting a little stifling, so I step out onto the
muscles out, and give a couple lazy wind-up strokes that just brush
the insides of your thighs, before I snap the flogger up, sending the
tails between your legs to assault your pubes. As you gasp and prepare
to scream, I finish the stroke by yanking backwards on the handle,
pulling the leather and knotted cords across your cuntlips...
Somewhere, in the back of my head, I am reminded of a line from Steve
Martin's short story, "Cruel Shoes"...
The screams were incredible.
As were the sobs, and the whimpers, and the shaking, and the gasping,
and the panting, and everything else that you do as you come back down
from that last stroke. Finally, you manage between shivering attacks
to say "Mercy."
The flogger drops from my hand, and I come up behind you. I unhook the
cuffs, and let you slump against me a moment, before I sweep your legs
up and cradle your still-shaking body in my arms. I carry you to the
couch, and gently lay you down on it, before kneeling by your side.
Someone... one of the hosts, I think... hands me two glasses of ice
water. I down one in one swallow, then fish an ice cube out to let
melt against your lips. You suck on the cube, then motion dazedly for
a drink from the other glass, which I give you.
Once you finish drinking your fill, you close your eyes and take my
hand, pulling it to your mouth to kiss my palm. I mimic your action,
then hold your hand tightly in mine. I close my eyes, rest my head on
your shoulder, and let the rest of the world fade away...
=====
"One little piece of my soul
One little piece of my whole life
I give to you
Take it now..."
muscles out, and give a couple lazy wind-up strokes that just brush
the insides of your thighs, before I snap the flogger up, sending the
tails between your legs to assault your pubes. As you gasp and prepare
to scream, I finish the stroke by yanking backwards on the handle,
pulling the leather and knotted cords across your cuntlips...
Somewhere, in the back of my head, I am reminded of a line from Steve
Martin's short story, "Cruel Shoes"...
The screams were incredible.
As were the sobs, and the whimpers, and the shaking, and the gasping,
and the panting, and everything else that you do as you come back down
from that last stroke. Finally, you manage between shivering attacks
to say "Mercy."
The flogger drops from my hand, and I come up behind you. I unhook the
cuffs, and let you slump against me a moment, before I sweep your legs
up and cradle your still-shaking body in my arms. I carry you to the
couch, and gently lay you down on it, before kneeling by your side.
Someone... one of the hosts, I think... hands me two glasses of ice
water. I down one in one swallow, then fish an ice cube out to let
melt against your lips. You suck on the cube, then motion dazedly for
a drink from the other glass, which I give you.
Once you finish drinking your fill, you close your eyes and take my
hand, pulling it to your mouth to kiss my palm. I mimic your action,
then hold your hand tightly in mine. I close my eyes, rest my head on
your shoulder, and let the rest of the world fade away...
=====
"One little piece of my soul
One little piece of my whole life
I give to you
Take it now..."
