Page 87 of Royal Flush

I found a lighter and returned to the room. All I could do was laugh given the way the beautiful little vixen had managed to turn almost completely over onto her stomach in her attempt to free herself. A part of me wanted to loosen the rope, indulging in experiencing exactly what she could do.

The opportunity presented was too juicy to pass up. I cracked my hand on her bottom a few times.

“Ouch. What was that for?”

“For worrying me. For escaping. For almost getting yourself killed.”

“Oh, that.”

I smacked her bottom again and the way she parted her legs, exposing her pretty, pink, and still glistening pussy lips was about to drive me crazy. I’d spank her tender tissue as well, the thought keeping a salacious grin on my face.

When I finally flipped her over, she moaned. The fact she was trying to kick out nearly pushed my last buttons of self-control.

“Remain a good girl and stay in position.”

“Or?”

I bent over, blowing across her face and all the way down her chest. As soon as the hot air rushed across her pussy, she bucked up from the bed again. “Or you’ll face another series of harsh consequences.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Before she could add the word ‘dare’ I pressed my index finger across her lips. “I think you know I would and will. Just breathe and relax. Imagine you’re on a tropical island where every fantasy can come true.”

“Last time I checked, I was on a tropical island. Unless you created a mirage.”

“You’ll need to be a good girl to find out.” I lit the candle and the noise of the lighter drew her attention.

“What are you doing?”

“Growing your anticipation even more.”

“Not possible.”

I selected the feather first, twirling the fluffy pink design in the air before trailing it down one side of her neck then the other. Even as her body tensed, I continued slowly sliding the feathered edges from one shoulder blade, taking my sweet time to brush it to the other. “There are highly respected studies that provide proof when one sensory level is compromised, the others are heightened. Such as sight. As you’ve suggested before, most people believe the art of BDSM is all about anguish and nothing else. Quite the contrary. It’s about exploring the depths of new sensations.”

She was listening intently, tilting her head to follow my voice as I moved from one side of the bed to the other on purpose. I didn’t need to see her entire face to gather how much something so simple and harmless affected her. There was something so enticing about seeing the subtle actions as her body accepted the pleasure, reveling in the softness.

I was almost completely mesmerized, enjoying every moment even as my cock pushed to a painful point against my trousers. I finally crawled onto the bed, taking my time opening her legs. As I brought the feather to her pussy, she bucked and moaned.

“Tell me what you feel?” I whispered in a husky voice but the tone was commanding.

“Heaven.”

The one word fueled me even more. After drifting the feather down one leg, I carefully got off the bed, surprised the wax was already softened enough. Still careful in my moves, I eased back onto the bed, using my fingers as I’d done with the feather, very gently brushing them between her breasts.

But the desire to watch the effects of the hot wax was strong. I’d learned the art years before, using wax as a test to gain trust.

Very little was different, my longing for her to experience the highest levels of pleasure unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I was very careful in where and how much wax I dripped, my breathing as labored as hers but for an entirely different reason.

“Oh, God. What is that?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“You tell me. Relax. Breathe. Experience.”

I had a sense she wanted to lash out but held back as I encircled her nipples with dots of wax. Using just the tip of my pinky I smoothed the wax, enjoying my own sensations from exciting her nipples even more than before.

“Wax,” she muttered.

“Very good.” I dripped a few drops down the length of her stomach, encircling her belly button. The way she was wiggling, lifting her head and stretching her bindings as she dug her heels into the comforter increased my desire almost as much as the way her mouth was twisting.

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