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“Yes, Sir.”
And again…
And again.
Left, left, right, left, right. Shutting my eyes tight, several tears squeeze through, while my face feels as if it’s on fire. He stops, cupping my cheeks with his hands, caressing the sting away with his thumbs.
“Do you still want me?” he asks once more, his eyes burning into mine.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He leads me to the red, X-shaped platform against the wall, and I get into position. Lifting my arm, he locks the cuff around my left wrist, and then the right. He kicks open my legs, spreading them wider, and cuffs my ankles as well.
He walks away. The sound of music catches me off guard. It’s soft, hypnotic. My eyes drift shut while Jaxon massages my back, my shoulders, and what seems like every inch of my backside.
I lean back, letting out a deep sigh, feeling nothing but comfort. His hands work on my muscles tenderly, until the blood is flowing. He’s so gentle, calm, in full control.
Finally, he steps back, and I grow desperate for more.
“We will start with flogging,” Jaxon announces.
My heart leaps in my chest. Yes, yes, yes. With flogging, there’s so much pleasure, and I’ve grown to adore the pain.
The first snap of the whip makes me flinch, as he lightly strikes my shoulder blades. Slow, teasingly. Trailing deliberately down my back, coming down harder with each stroke. Pulling on my wrists, the cuffs dig deeper into my skin, and my arms feel light.
Although, my head feels heavy.
My heart feels heavy.
“More,” I rush out, trying to distract myself. “Please.”
The flogger comes down harder, brushing roughly against my tender bottom, one strike after the other.
“Green,” I hiss, squeezing my eyes shut. “Please. More.”
“Green?”
“Yes.”
Whish. Jerking forward, a whimper escapes my lips. My skin is burning, and it seems to last forever.Whish. The pain worsens, to the point where I feel like I’m being carved. I say nothing.Whish. I cry out, putting nearly all my weight on my wrists, my legs shaking. Almost giving out.
Almost.
“Green,” I force out, breathing hard.
“Sasha—”
“Green!”
“Are you sure?” he asks, doubting me. Cupping his palm against my ass, I flinch, hissing at the contact. “Sasha?”
“Yes,” I breathe, my ears ringing. “Yes, Sir. Green.”
Trusting my words, he continues, using the same amount of strength that I had asked him for. Begged him for. The snap of the flogger becomes repetitive, and the feeling of my skin tearing eventually becomes numb.
