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I have to try to forget about Mandy and the time we spent together.
It was hot and amazing and soul baring, but it will never be enough. I know myself too well. I’ll never be satisfied with simple vanilla sex, and I won’t be able to commit to her.
I’ll only hurt her in the end, and I can’t risk that.
I gather some leather rope, glide my fingers over the sleekness of it. Leather and nylon rope are better than cotton rope. They’re easier to unbind in case of an emergency.
But I’m good at what I do. I’ve never had an emergency. Still, I’m careful. My sub—tonight it’s Blossom—must be safe at all times in my care.
I remove my jacket so I’m wearing nothing but another pair of black jeans.
“Kneel before me,” I say gruffly.
Blossom ambles off the bed—not too quickly—and drops to her knees before me, her head bowed.
“Thank you,” I say. “Thank you for trusting me this evening. Thank you for agreeing to do a scene with me.”
She nods, her gaze still on the floor.
Normally, I’m turned on by now. My cock is usually pulsating, my skin usually tingling. Just the thought of a submissive kneeling before me, trusting me…
Blossom and I have played scenes together many times in the past. She’s good at what she does, and she knows how to please her Dom.
Tonight, though, I’m not even starting to get hard.
Blossom is a beautiful woman. She has flaming auburn hair and deep brown eyes. She’s taller than Mandy, has bigger breasts and more slender legs.
And why am I comparing her to Mandy?
Damn.
I’ve got to get this out of my system.
“Rise,” I say to Blossom.
She obeys, and I bind her wrists with the leather. Then I lead her to the pole in the center of the room and fasten her wrists to the top so she’s standing, her arms elevated, tied to the pole.
I turn to the wall, study the tools on display, and choose a whip.
I don’t use a whip often, but tonight it feels right. I hold the leather grip, let it become part of me. Through this instrument I will feel the warmth of Blossom’s flesh as I flog her.
Blossom loves being spanked, flogged, and whipped. Many times, I’ve taken her ass from creamy white to cherry red, and then I’ve fucked her as she stands like she is now—bound by leather to the pole, completely at my mercy. I’ve only used an actual whip with her once, but she and I both ended the evening with raging climaxes. I need that tonight.
Snap—
I bring the whip down upon her milky flesh.
Snap. Again.Snap. Again.
Yes, the globes of her ass are pink now—pink and beautiful and delicious.
But nothing from my cock.
Normally I have to restrain myself. I have to stay in control so I don’t fuck her too quickly. I give her the pain she requires, the sting she craves, before I take my own pleasure.
Snap! Snap! Snap!
How much more before I find arousal?
