Standing behind, arms curved around me, he strokes my stomach, caresses and cups my breasts, and a hundred eyes follow his motions. The air is not cold, but a slight draught blows cool over me, raising my nipples, puckering them tight. My Master rolls one between forefinger and thumb, whilst the other hand quests south.

With a start, I know what he is doing. This is a reflection of our mirrored conversation of the previous day, but now with no mirror, just the audience, watching my Master take his pleasure with me.

Trembling with nerves and a little chill, nonetheless, my pussy exudes a liquid heat and my thighs are dampening, my hot juices trickling. Lips parting as my breathing increases further, my chest beginning to heave, I flush in anticipation of what…?

My eyes roll sidelong to the array of whips and lashes, to the flogger my Master selected.

“Michael. If you would.”

Michael produces a tie from his pocket, a black silky scarf which he binds around my left wrist, then also, my right wrist, with a second silken cloth. He leads me by my bound wrists to the padded horse.

“Bend forward Charlotte,” he whispers.

He ties each wrist to either end of the bench, leaving my arms splayed and bound. Arranging me, he presses my face, cheek-side-down against the padding so I can see only obliquely, to one side. My hips and legs, he pulls outwardly. My ass, he lifts, to be displayed and accessible, parting my cheeks and folds, to reveal my wet, pink entrance. His final move is to push my ankles apart,

My Master trails the tresses of the flogger over the contour of my spine to my face. Lingering and soft, the sensation is exotic, erotic, and I shiver.

He murmurs, “Charlotte, if this gets close to your limits, you say ‘Yellow’. If it becomes too much, you say ‘Red’. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“You’re sure? You stop this at any time. You simply say ‘Yellow’ or ‘Red’.”

“Yes, Master. I understand.”

He strokes my hair, which trails in a long, foxy fall from the padded bench, then, moving around me, draws the tails along from my shoulders, to the curve of my waist and hip.

A pause, a sharp flick, and the soft lashes kiss my thighs.

I quiver, my lips parting as my breathing increases to panting. Another lash licks across my buttocks. This is not painful; only…. stimulating. My folds swelling, pussy lips opening, I well up from within, a sense of well-being and of other-worldliness….

The tresses trail my skin, over my shoulders and neckline, before another, sharper strike of the lash across my thighs. It stings, but my pussy warms my clit shudders.

Breathing ever more heavily, I move my legs to a more comfortable position, but my Master, hooking his shoe around my ankles, parts my feet further. The leather tresses lash along my lower back, between my buttocks, sparking against the soft inner skin.

Face down, looking sideways on, I cannot see my Master, but Michael is watching me, his eyes alternately fixed on my face, and watching my reactions as the tails come down.

The lash swipes across my buttocks again, harder now, the stroke biting in, and, as my pussy freely flows, I bite my lower lip.copy right hot novel pub