Page 25 of Red Velvet

I watch her, taking it all in. The way she gives in to it, her demeanor changing with each smack. The leather collides with her skin with more force, each time leaving an impact stronger than the one before. The pallid pink soon turns into proper red, speaking of the increasing pain the whips must cause her. But it doesn't show in her reaction. As intense and vivid as she was in the very beginning, I didn't expect her to be able to take a lot. In fact, I would’ve expected her to cry for me to stop at this point, even though it wouldn't mean anything.

Contrary to that, she appears to be in a trance. I can't tell whether her eyes are closed or not, but judging from the way she carries herself, still bent over the bondage horse like I told her to, her head hanging low, barely moving when the flogger comes down on her ass, it looks like she's already riding a high that comes at a far later point for most people.

Mind you, my strikes are still meager. I'm not hurting her nearly as much as I could, even with a benign flogger like the one she chose.

Should I dare? Is she really capable of enduring that much more?

Is there a pain slut hiding beneath all that apparent chastity?

Once again, there's only one way to find out.

I pause, giving both of us a moment to process the situation, before I hit her.Reallyhit her.

This smack evokes a cry from her, finally. It's a short and suppressed shriek, gone as soon as it reaches the ear, but it won't be her last. I wind up, bringing the flogger down on the other side of her ass with even more ferocity.

This time she not only yelps in pain but also loses her stance, her hands flying up in the air as she rounds her back instinctively to protect herself from more torment.

"Stay!" I bark at her. "Don't you dare move!"

She whimpers but complies immediately, bending forward until her chest rests on the upholstery again. Her hands find their place once more, holding on tightly as she prepares for the next infliction.

I wait just long enough for her to return to her position before the flogger hits her sore skin again, driven by almost as much force as the blows that drove her away from the bondage horse.

She stays put, tensing under each strike, her fingers curling until her knuckles turn white, her body so stiff that the posture alone looks painful.

"Arch for me," I remind her, adding another smack. "Show me that pretty ass."

She groans, taking two more swipes before she reluctantly hollows her back. I know exposing herself like this will only intensify the ache, but that's what she'll have to do right now. Endure, control, and mend the pain into something else—pleasure. She can only do that if she's ready to own the agony that comes with a proper flogging.

And it looks like she's up to the task. Her fingers still dig into the upholstered planks to the side, but no longer with that same desperation I saw before. She's visibly loosening up, accepting the pain as the leather straps rain down on her again and again, driven by my strong lead.

I'm still holding back, because it would be reckless not to. She may be strong, and she may be ready for more than this, but today will not be the day I break her. I will leave her with a distinct taste for more, however, because I want her to come back to me, to crawl on all fours and beg for more.

Her perky ass is blossoming in a deep red by the time I'm done with her. My blows didn't draw blood, but I'm sure she’ll have something to remind her tomorrow. Even now I can tell her pale complexion allows for easy bruising.

Neither of us says a word, heated silence stretching through the room, only interrupted by her heavy breathing. Tiny droplets of sweat are pearling at the small of her back, running across her skin as her tortured body trembles. Her face is hidden behind strands of hair, falling down at both sides in a blonde curtain while her head hangs low. I kneel next to her, placing the flogger beside me so she can see it. She doesn't move nor acknowledge my presence when I lift a hand to push away the strand of hair hiding her face from my eyes. It's sticking to her temples, a blend of tears and sweat having wet her skin.

Her eyes are shut, and her lower lip’s shivering under heavy tremors.

"Look at me."

At first I worry she might be too deep in the zone to hear my command, because she doesn't react to my voice right away. Her eyelashes are fluttering nervously when she conforms herself to my demand. Red shadows cross her pretty face, but her makeup is holding up surprisingly well, not running down her face in black streams.

Yet.

Her gaze is fogged when her eyes meet mine. The light in here is just bright enough to recognize the delicate indications on her face that allow for an assessment of her emotional state. Her expression is absent at first, her mind probably still floating in a trance induced by pain that has now fully converted into nothing but pleasure.

The hint of a smile plays at the corner of her mouth when I say, "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

She bites her lower lip, her eyes darting back and forth between mine before she nods.

"Speak to me," I urge. "Did you enjoy that?"

"Yes, sir," she breathes, and the smile that comes with her words makes my heart jolt.

So fucking perfect. Her immaculate beauty in this very moment trumps the dolled-up appearance from her sister's wedding by far. I lose myself in the sight of her, the allure of her exertion, her eyes drunk with wonder.

And she only makes it worse by uttering the most precious words I could ever think of.

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