Page 26 of Carnival Master

He reaches into a drawer and pulls out a set of handcuffs. I bite my lip, excitement fluttering my stomach. Part of me can’t believe this is happening—that I’mwillingly letting myself be handcuffed to a bed by a man I barely know. But something about Tyson makes me feel safe, even as he pushes my boundaries.

“I’m going to cuff you now. Arms above your head.” His voice is soft, but an undercurrent of steel demands my obedience.

Lifting my arms above my head, Tyson snaps the cool metal around my wrists, tightening it enough so I can’t move my arms. The sensation is thrilling, and I shift, testing the restraints.

“Comfortable?” His eyes glint with amusement.

“Yes,” I whisper, feeling more exposed than ever.

He produces a blindfold next, and I stifle a gasp. “This is optional. Some people prefer it. I want to blindfold you, but only if you agree.”

I nod, unable to speak. I’ve never been blindfolded during sex before, and the thought sends a jolt of anticipation through me.

“Good girl.” He slides the soft fabric over my eyes, blocking my vision. Suddenly, the room feels even more intimate, and my other senses heighten. I hear the faint sound of his movement, smell his cologne, and feel the mattress dip as he settles next to me.

His fingers trail down my arm, and I shiver. “I’m going to start slow. I want to ease you into this. If it’s too much at any point, your safe word is ‘purple.’ Can you remember that?”

“Purple,” I repeat, my voice steadier than I feel.

“That’s my girl.” His lips brush my earlobe, sending a shiver down my spine. “Now, let’s begin.”

His hands explore my body, his touch light as afeather, making me squirm. I feel the soft caress of something trace against my skin, the sensation exquisite. His strokes are gentle, sending pleasant tingles through my body. I relax into the bed, surrendering to the pleasure.

The strokes increase in intensity, and I moan, arching my back.

“Do you like the feel of my flogger, baby?” He asks, gripping my hip and holding me in place as it lands on my thighs.

I can’t find the words so merely nod. His lips find my neck, his tongue tracing a path that makes my breath stutter. His kisses are demanding, his teeth grazing my skin, and I can feel his stubble.

“You’re doing so well.” His warm breath fans the sensitive skin of my neck. “But I think you can take more.”

The flogger strokes continue each landing with a satisfying smack that echoes in the small space. My skin feels alive, every nerve ending ignited. I moan as pleasure courses through me.

His fingers dip between my legs, finding my slick entrance. “You like that, don’t you, baby? Feeling that sting on your skin while I touch you here.”

“Yes,” I manage to whisper, my chest heaving.

“Tell me what you want. Don’t be shy.”

“I want—” My words dissolve into a moan as his fingers push inside me. “More.”

Laughter rumbles in his chest. “I can give you more.”

He adds another finger, stretching me, and I rock myhips against his hand, meeting his thrusts. My body feels electric, every touch sending jolts of pleasure through me.

Then, suddenly, his fingers are gone, leaving me wanting. I whimper, arching my back, searching for more contact.

“Shh, baby girl. I’m not done with you yet.”

I squirm at the loss of his touch, my head thrumming with need. My skin buzzes with sensation—every nerve ending is alive and begging for more. The room’s cool air caresses my heated skin.

“Please,” I whisper, needing release.

I hear the rustle of clothing and the soft clink of metal, followed by a sharp sting of a warm hand slapping my inner thigh. I gasp, my body tensing. It’s a different sensation to the flogger.

“You’re so responsive. Such a beautiful sight.” His voice is thick with desire. “Do you like it when I spank you?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

---