Page 37 of The Music in Me

“Yellow if I want you to go slow, and red if I want you to stop,” I replied, wondering why he was so hesitant to start my punishment. It made me even more determined to prove myself.

“Don’t forget that, Kira,” he said.

I heard something flick in the air and then felt the cool kiss of a leather flogger across my belly between my legs as he whipped me. I gasped, more out of surprise than pain. He flogged me again, and the leather bits tickled my skin. Several strokes were delivered to my body, each one harder than the first, and none of them landed in the same place twice.

The last stroke landed across my belly and caught the under of my breasts. This one hurt, and I cried out in pain. He immediately cupped me between my legs, rubbing my clit and squeezing my breasts at the same time. The pain was gone as quickly as it came, and I went from crying in pain to moaning as my pussy grew wetter and closed around his finger.

I had no idea what game he was playing, but so far, I was loving it. His fingers parted my folds and sent streaks of flames surging across my clit. I could feel nerve endings coming to life, and a throbbing heat washed over me as I arched and twisted my hips. Just as the pleasure began to build, he pulled and flogged me right between my legs.

“Oh my God!” I exclaimed, bucking against the current of pleasure that ripped through me.

“Stay still,” he ordered, whipping me with the flogger. My clit tightened from the pain, and my pussy pulsed with a flood of arousal. One touch would have sent me over the edge.

Leon didn’t touch me but resumed flogging me, this time harder than ever. It was starting to hurt, and whimpers of pain turned into groans. He flogged me again and again. Across my thighs, stomach, belly, chest, and breasts. A tip of the flogger caught my nipple, and I screamed out loud. My body stung from the pain, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle.

One last whip made me cry out loud, and I felt his breath between my legs an instant before he sucked my clit into his mouth. He held me open and worked his tongue inside me, gathering the pool of juice and sucking it into his mouth. Hands held me down as I bucked against him, forgetting the pain he’d caused me just seconds ago.

He moaned into my pussy, licking and sucking at the dripping wetness before moving his tongue higher to slide over my throbbing clit.

“Yes,” I moaned, too delirious to feel any pain. “Oh yes, Leon. Please don’t stop…”

He growled and continued to consume me with animalistic ferocity, tongue circling the tight bud of my burning clit and swamping me with waves of pleasure that made me lose my mind.

“Always tastes so good,” he muttered as his fingers replaced his hands. “Like honey and milk. Smooth and sweet… It’s mine, Kira,” he said. “All of it is mine, and you’ll do your best to remember that the next time you let anyone think they have a chance to take you from me.”

“Never,” I moaned, arching my back and pushing myself close to him. “It’s all yours, Daddy. You make me feel real good.”

“You want to come, don’t you?” he asked, and I nodded.

“Yes. Please, Daddy… Please, make me come,” I said as he continued to suck and finger me.

“I will.” His fingers slid through my juices, moving down to play inside me and then lower to circle the entrance of my rear. I jerked against him, but the touch was gone so quickly I wondered if he’d meant to do it. “Not yet,” he said, pushing himself away. “We still have a long way to go.”

I groaned in frustration as he reached under the bench and unlocked my straps. He pulled me up and made me lie on all fours on the bench with my chest pressed on the lower end and my knees tucked under me to raise my ass in the air. I felt something stroke my ass and down the middle of my back. It was a riding crop.

“Have you learned your lesson?” he asked, trailing the crop between my legs.

“Yes,” I said, and he flicked the crop, smacking the back of my thighs.

“Do you think you’ve been punished enough?” he asked, circling my clit with the crop.

“Yes,” I cried, tensing in anticipation of another stroke.

He waited until I relaxed before smacking me again, this time higher up my thigh. He was done playing with me now, and every stroke hurt more and more.

“Wrong answer,” he said, striking me three more times. “Have you been punished enough?”

“I don’t know,” I cried, tears rolling down my eyes as he struck me three times right near my clit. It was really painful, yet I wanted more and waited anxiously for the next strike.

“Do you think you’ve been punished enough, Kira?” he asked, massaging my freshly whipped flesh with the end of the crop.

“No,” I moaned.

“Wrong answer,” he said, striking me again.

I quivered and shuddered from the pain and pleasure of being whipped, crying out with each strike against my flesh. The sensations that whipped through my body burned me from the inside out, and I didn’t know if I should arch toward the crop or run away from its sting.

“Have you been punished enough?” he asked one more time, and I knew what he wanted to hear.

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