On the home stretch now with blog number 23 of 26 on the A-Z Challenge. Woo hoo!!!
Master Dex is the Master Dom at Club Decadence. He's also a whip master, his sensual weapon of choice is the single tail; an 8-plait, 4-feet long signal whip made from kangaroo hide to be exact. Elena craves it by her Master's hand, but can he bring himself to use it again after what happened?
Little Light of Mine
Club Decadence Book 3
The swiping tip of the whip
brushed her skin in a sensual warm up.
The steady whoosh soothed her into a trance like state. He gradually increased the intensity with
each successive stroke, building from a brushing caress to a sting and finally
to a slow burn.
Pausing between strokes to allow
the sensation to penetrate her trance like state, he worked slowly and
methodically. Every few strokes he would
sharply throw the single tail so it cracked in the air. The exquisite psychological thrill of the
whip brought them the satisfaction their shared kink demanded.
He paused and stepped up behind
her. His hand gently caressed her skin
assessing the heat and color, searching for welts and breaks of which there
were none. “Where are you my slave?”
“Green, Master.”
“You need more, don’t you? You need to feel the physical pain to ease
your emotional pain before you can fly.
Tell me what you want, my slave.”
“Whip me harder, Master. I want to feel the bite of your whip. I want
to please you.”
“You do please me, slave, so very
much.” He added another restraint
securing her waist to keep her hips still.
He wouldn’t risk injury if she moved and he missed his target. Once she was secured, he stepped back and
cracked the whip through the air again, watching her shiver. She was so responsive to sensation play and
with the short tail he usually made her soar.
“Ten more lashes, each one will be progressively harder. This time I am the musician and you are my
instrument. When we get to the pinnacle
of the piece, I want your body to sing for me and I want you to come.”
“Yes Master. Lash me; whip me until my body sings for
you. Take my pleasure.”
He resumed then with the same
steady pace and moderate strokes. He
watched her carefully, playing with her body but assessing, weighing and
judging her response at the same time.
Every two strokes he would crack the whip, missing her so that she only
felt the brush of air over her inflamed skin.
He could tell she was flying as she moaned and writhed as if it had
landed.
For the last ten strokes, he
actually decreased the intensity of the blows but she was so far into subspace
by then she couldn’t tell. It was all as
he’d planned it and couldn’t have been achieved without the slow build up to
subspace and the mind-fuck by the Master. Although he suggested that each
stroke would become progressively harsh and heavy, he would never use such
harsh tactics on her fragile skin.
The lash falling with light
brushing strokes against her already tender skin was processed by her dazed
mind as searing, biting blows. The
combination of her sensitized skin and the speed of the blows reached a
crescendo that made it hard for her to process where one stroke began and the
other ended. Her moans intensified and
sweat rolled down her back. She was
ready.
“Come for me now, my beautiful
slave.”
He brought the final lash
down. She heard the sharp crack and felt
a streak of fire in its wake across her buttocks. She screamed in pain and ecstasy as the pain
brought her ultimate pleasure and she came in an intense orgasm, the climax
stronger and longer lasting than ever before.
He’d never reveal the truth behind his single tail technique and risk
eroding its psychological illusion. He
smiled as he dropped the whip to the floor knowing the last blow had never even
touched her. The intimidating sound and
the light disturbance of the air near her skin was all he required to make her
come apart.
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