Page 98 of Point of Contention

This would cause the most pain, but would also elicit the sharpest sounds—both from the slap of it against her skin and the cries she’d make as I drove her to the edge.

The crowd had tripled in size since we arrived in the viewing room. Word will have begun to spread about the performative way I’d collared her.

It would reach Mina. And soon, Gage.

Both Dominants needed to know how serious I was about this woman.

Mina, so she would come around, eventually warm up to us as a couple. I missed my friend and desired harmony between the two women I cared most for in the world.

And Gage… he would think twice before he ever dared speak to Rylan again.

His removal from the club tonight didn’t bode well for his membership. Mina wouldn’t respond positively to the way he’d gone after Rylan. A blemish on his membership record would take him out of the running for Ombudsman, but I didn’t want to think about what that meant for his growing hatred of me. Not while I had Rylan propped up and waiting for what I had planned.

I gripped the crop in my right hand and the flogger in my left, then turned back to her and walked across the room to stand behind her. I touched the crop to the side of her right hip. “This is the riding crop,” I told her, speaking softly. I repeated the motion on the other hip, brushing the leather strands against her flesh as I said, “This is the flogger.”

I’d explained everything to her, had used a handful of my tools while I introduced her to my lifestyle, but we hadn’t used more than one toy at a time, so this would be a test in her limits. Which I’d already pushed against by bringing her here and putting her on display for all who watched.

I began slow circles with the flogger in my left hand, settling into the rhythmic pulse of the leather strands as they cut through the air, then I flicked my right wrist back and brought the leather crop down fast against her right cheek. She jerked, but before she could process the flash of pain on her right side, I whipped the flogger against her left.

Rylan gasped and I asked her, “One through ten?”

“Ten, Sir.”

Nodding, I repeated the act of smacking one side with the crop then quickly following that pain with a whip of the flogger on her opposite side. She jerked again, but I smiled when her pussy flexed. Minutes passed as I continued these repetitive slaps of leather against flesh until her ass was equally red and angry on both sides, then I tucked the crop under my arm and positioned myself with my back to the audience, my left arm better lined up with the center line of her body. Resuming the quick circles with my wrists, I pushed wind against her folds, bringing the leather strands close enough so she could sense them, feel the breeze of them, the threat, but without connecting with her skin.

She whimpered, wiggling her ass as she tried to push back, but with her body strapped to the bench, she could only move back so far. To punish her for moving, I pulled the flogger away, robbing her of the anticipation, the tickle of wind as it circled so dangerously close to her needy center.

She grunted in frustration and my lips quirked up to the side.

Grabbing the crop, I placed the leather strap of it at the base of her spine, pressing firmly to hold her still, then I whipped the flogger against her center in a quick motion.

“Ahh,” she moaned, her body jerking as the pain morphed into pleasure. “Please.”

I did it again, another quick whip of leather that kissed her needy center with a thousand sharp stings all at once, and her body shook with the first wave of her release.

Turning away from her, I returned the leather toys to the counter and retrieved the black paddle, then stood to the side of her and placed it firmly across her ass. It was long enough to cover both cheeks.

“This is a paddle.” I lifted it slowly then brought it back lightly against her supple cheeks. “What is your comfort level, Ms. Blake?”

“Ten,” she breathed.

“Rylan.”

“Seven, Sir.”

“Good girl. You must always be honest with me. Are you afraid?”

She hesitated, then whispered, “Yes, Sir.”

“And your safe word is…?”

“Lavender, Master Creed.”

“Don’t forget it.” Without warning, I pulled back, then brought the paddle down against her skin in one quick motion.

The slap of the board against her flesh was quickly followed with her cry of pain, shock, that morphed into a moan.

Her body trembled.

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