Red Hots (15 page)

She
exhaled. “Yes, Sir.”

“Do
not defy me in this, Song Sparrow,” he ordered.

“I
won’t, Sir.”

He
slipped his hand down the side of her neck, back between her full breasts until
he was able to sweep under one swell and cup the firm, silken mound.  Holding
her gaze, he watched the russet golden-brown orbs darken as he circled the
mahogany tip with his thumb repeatedly—evidence of her pleasure. When the peak
was erect and her body quivered expectantly beneath his touch, he pinched her
nipple.

She
hissed and rose up on her toes.

Still
squeezing it, he tugged the point until she began to whimper and sigh then he
released her. He wanted her turned on, even before they began—her body primed
and racing up toward the peak of release. When she wasn’t allowed the
satisfaction of completion her body would surely crave, then she would truly
understand the consequences of disobedience.

Moving
away from her, he went to the hooks along the wall and selected a green, medium-length,
wide lead leather flogger. It was one that would give a loud thump but not a
high sting. Kindle as a newbie would be able to tolerate it.

Holding
it in his right hand, he crossed back to her. Standing before her, he held it
up high by the handle with the straps dangling toward the floor. “This is a
flogger,” he began. “Usually at women’s naughty or bachelorette parties they
have the fake, short keychain versions of them in black leather. Have you seen
one before?”

“Yes,
Sir.” Her russet gaze was becoming more golden than brown, a show of her
heightening desire.

He
enjoyed knowing that he was not the only one aroused. Just being around Kindle
had his body responding in such a way. Like a trained monkey, his cock saw her
and began rising with full expectation of slipping inside her wet heat, but
that wasn’t going to happen. He was bound and determined that he would keep
those two ends of their relationship untied. Regardless of the fact they’d
crossed, looped, knotted and joined extremely successfully the last time.

It
was not going to happen. He was strong enough to fight it. Besides, tonight she
needed to experience the strokes of his discipline skills, not those of his
hard cock.

Stepping
closer to her, he brushed the tails along her body, allowing her to feel the
softness of the leather. This flogger, like all of his tools, was cared for,
treated and used often. Similar to a bike rider’s favorite pair of kid gloves,
the leather was supple and like butter on the skin, malleable.

Keeping
silent, he continued to caress her breasts, belly and thighs and onto her feet.
When he made his journey back upward, he noted the swelling and glistening of
Kindle’s pussy lips between her parted thighs. She was too damn sensual for her
own good. For their own good.

During
the end of a scene, when a Dom recognized a high arousal level it wasn’t
uncommon for him to complete the session with designated strikes with the
flogger on the sub’s sex until they came. The blows would be more like firm
taps and didn’t carry anywhere near the strength that was worked over the other
appropriate areas, larger muscle groups of the body, due to the sensitivity of
the area. However, the sting generally was precise and strong enough to take
the submissive over the edge. This session would not end that way for Kindle
tonight. If she were truly his sub, she would have become used to such a treat
and would be more forlorn to not get it. She would understand clearly how she
had fucked up with her disobedience. Hopefully, their time together would allow
him an opportunity to give her the pleasurable experience.

For
now, he needed to get started with giving her what she came to him for, focus
and stress relief.

He
brought the leads over her breasts one more time before stepping back.

Kindle’s
eyes were closed now, their color sealed off from him. He missed the beauty of
them. He could have ordered her to open her eyes, but that would be fulfilling
his need. Right now, he needed her centering herself in the moment, connecting
with the tool and him as her dominant.

Placing
his hand between her breasts, he pressed the flat of his palm against her. He
didn’t move, but stood there feeling each of her heartbeats as they pounded
against him. Kindle’s heart continued a face pace, but it was steady, not
erratic or racing out of control.

“Breathe,
Song Sparrow.” He guided her through a few breaths, keeping his tone low and
even, but controlled. As she followed his guidance, he lowered his hand.
Stepping around her, he still talked to her. He instructed her about her
breathing as he took hold of the leads again and caressed her from shoulders to
heels and back again.

Resting
a hand on her shoulder, he allowed his touch to flow over her muscles, touching
every groove, slope and valley. He noted that the tone of her ass was no longer
a dark rosy color as it had been the last time he’d seen it. She’d carried his
mark on her for at least a couple days and the sting too.

Smiling,
he thought about the new marks he would leave on her skin tonight. Not dark as
the paddle would have left, but welts this time across her lovely, firm ass.

“Are
you injured or hurt anywhere?”

“No,
Sir.”

“Breathe.
Remember the importance of keeping yourself relaxed, Song Sparrow.” He stood
behind her, his hand slowly moving from one ass cheek to the other as he spoke.
“Don’t tense up or try to expect the hits, just breathe and accept them.”

Silence
stretched the seconds into minutes.

“Do
you trust me and submit yourself to my dominance tonight, Song Sparrow?”

Still
touching her, he could feel her body settle back slightly into his hand as if
she was mentally giving herself over to his hands.

“Yes,
Sir.” Her response was clear and unremitting.

Removing
his hand, he stepped back, angling himself at a forty-five degree angle to her
body. He flexed his right hand around the handle and ran the fingers of his
left hand through the end of the flogger—recognizing it as an extension of
himself.

“Inhale,”
he commanded to both her and him. Bouncing his right shoulder up and down, he
allowed it to hang loose, relaxed.

“Exhale.”
He watched the subtle fall of her shoulders, her lowering a little as she
dipped her chin slightly. All signs she was settling in, preparing for the
session.

He
gave her a few more breathing directives as he zeroed all his attention on the
areas of her form he would strike, keeping away from her ribs, kidneys and the
back of her knees—dangerous and sensitive areas.

Falling
silent, he inhaled, raising the flogger. He exhaled and brought the tails down
at an angle over her ass, lightly. The strike was enough for her to feel it,
but packed very little steam. It was meant for him to get his distance together
and familiarize himself with her body, and warm her flesh.

The
blow wasn’t hard enough to even cause her to flinch. He was proud of her
steadiness, her trust. He continued taking her through the paces, increasing
his intensity only marginally each time.

Thwack.

He
didn’t move his body, but rotated his arm calmly in a figure eight, crisscross
fashion, striking one cheek after the other.

Thwack.

Continuing
the session, he journeyed up and gave a few kisses to her shoulders. He worked
back to her thighs then to the back tops of her thighs, ensuring there was no
wrapping to the front of her body. However, it was her finely curved ass that
received most of his attention.

Thwack.

By
the time she was taking his heavier handed strokes, the only sign that she was
feeling them was her whimpers and the tightening of her hands following each
connection of the flogger. Her fingers were curled in a fist, however, she held
her restrained stance like an experienced submissive, her head low, but not
hung, her shoulders dropped in a relaxed state. Even more than those
indications were the forward tilt of her hips that caused her lower back to
arch and pushing out her luscious ass, availing it properly to him. And the Dom
in him gladly claimed what she offered again and again with the wallop of his
flogger.

Once
her breathing became harsher, her moans became more whimpers and Kindle began
to swing her hips away following each blow, he knew the session was at a close.
Longer sessions that would push a person past her own limits were for more
experienced subs.

He
allowed the flogger to rest at his side, as he observed her. His muscles were
burning from overuse, but that was typical, he wasn’t tired. A sheen of sweat
coated his body and several beads ran from the nape of his neck down his spine,
proof of his own exertion. Taking in deep breaths, he relaxed his heart rate as
he continued to watch her.

As
the seconds tipped into minutes, he saw her head dip lower and her hands open.
Even now, Kindle didn’t know the scene had ended, she was relaxing herself as
if preparing herself for the next strike. It made him admire her strength even
more. If this had been too much for her, she knew the word that would make him
stop, but she hadn’t used it. She would make an excellent submissive.

Shaking
his head, he went to the wall and returned the tool. Tomorrow he would take
care of it, treat it and ready it for a future use. Most likely with another
submissive, not Kindle.

Once
he was next to her again, he stooped down and unfastened her ankles. His ears
tuned to her, he picked up on her gasp of surprise when he released the first
cuff. He took that ankle in his hand and caressed her skin. There weren’t any
marks there, but he still wanted to begin the reconnection process with her.
Even a mild session, done right, separated a submissive mentally and
emotionally from the world around them. Kindle would be aware of nothing else
but the flogger, and him.

As
he shifted to her other foot, he was a witness to the high level of her
arousal. Not only because of her piquant scent that saturated the air of the
room, heavy and cloying, but by the amount of cream coating the inside of her
thighs. The carpet below her feet showed evidence of the drips that had fallen
from her pussy.

At
his current height, he could clearly see her swollen pussy. Her smooth labia
were plump, ripe and separated showcasing her clit. It would have been too easy
for him to lean forward slightly and touch the exposed tip with his tongue and
run his tongue back to the center of her sweet pussy, collecting and savoring
the sweet spice of her desire. But, he didn’t.

He
would not give her the climax her body was primed for. And he would keep
himself under control. There could not be sex between them, not again. No
matter how much his hands shook with need, or how hard his cock was. It was so
strained in his pants that the position he maintained was uncomfortable. Taking
a deep breath to steady himself, he wished he hadn’t because it just filled his
senses even more with her provocative aroma.

Moving
quickly, he released and massaged her other ankle and rose. With one hand on
her waist at all times, he unbuckled her wrists and checked each one of them,
too.  Different from the feet, he ran his hand along her arm, as he lowered it
steady and slow to her side, working his fingers deep into her muscles until he
reached the shoulder—helping counteract the sting of the returning blood flow
to the limb. He repeated the same method on her other arm.

He
allowed her to rest back against him briefly as he ensured himself she was
steady enough to walk under her own strength—slow as it might be. When her
knees didn’t buckle, he led her to the couch. There, he wrapped her in the aftercare
blanket he’d purchased just for her, since he frequently gave his ex-subs their
blanket as a parting gift. More because he didn’t want the reminder of them
once they were gone.

Settling
her in his lap, he hugged her to him and gently stroked her body through the
blanket.

Kindle
gazed at him, her golden brown eyes bright and slightly unfocused, but he could
clearly see the question in her face. Her features were relaxed with the
exception of the small tight area between her brows. It was easy to detect what
she wanted, her confusion. She’d anticipated an orgasm at the end, just as he’d
given her the last time. Precisely what his body craved. But there would be
none for either of them.

Raising
his hand, he brushed away the damp strands of hair that had fallen out of her
bun and stuck to the side of her face in the beads of sweat that collected
there. “There will be no completion for you this night, Song Sparrow.”

He
saw her lips start to move, as if she were prepared to question his decision,
persuade him.

Shaking
his head, he halted any response. “It will help you to remember the next time I
give you a command, follow it to the letter.”

Her
lips pressed together, and stifled a whimper, but she exhaled and said, “Yes,
Sir.”

He
gave her a sharp nod then tucked her head beneath his chin and began the
aftercare. “I’m proud of you, Song Sparrow.” His hand stroked along her back.
“You did very well tonight.” He caressed up her arm over the blanket.