Page 87 of A Secret and a Lie
One of my favorite toys, the galley whip is an amalgamation of a single tail whip and a flogger. It’s less risky in terms of leaving permanent damage than a standard whip, but more than capable of inflicting the pain I wish to dole out.
The moment the tails connect with the flesh of his upper thighs, hegrunts, the short, throaty sound signaling his discomfort. I swing again, the blow landing across his ass this time and he jerks, absorbing the punch of pain.
My body jolts, the building orgasm dying a little with every blow I make in my imagination. As my eyelids flutter open, my finger drifts from my clit, my other hand abandoning my breast.
I huff, staring up at the cream-painted ceiling. After taking another sip of my martini, I decide to try again. Only this time, I conjure a new fantasy without limits or constraints.
The submissive kneeling this time is me. I squirm, discomforted by the vulnerability coursing through me. My knees are spread wide, my naked body on display as I sit on my heels, the floor growing severely harder with each passing moment.
“I told you not to move. What do you call what you’re doing?” The voice is rough and deep, shrouded in smoke and silk.
“Moving, Sir,” I reply, my gaze downcast, sounding reverent and meek.
“That’s right, doll. Good thing you have me to train you.”
Anticipation rockets through me. I’m soaking wet and the tails of the galley whip haven’t even touched me yet. When they do, I bite down on my tongue to bottle the moan that wants to escape.
“Sit up. Let’s see what a little training does for your obedience.”
I do as I’m commanded, my kneecaps drilling into the hardwood floor painfully, but I simply close my eyes, relishing the agony as I brace myself for the blow that’s to come.
“You may make noise,” he permits a second before the whip whizzes through the air and lands across both globes of my ass.
I let out a yelp, my body jerking violently, wobbling on my bony knees.
“I’ll add fifteen if you topple over,” he warns.
“Yes, Sir. Thank you.” I resist the urge to curl my fingers into a fist.
He strikes me again, this time a bit lower, and I scream. Pain ripples through me, morphing into warm pleasure as my body digests the sensation. My nipples are pebbled and hard, the kiss of the cool, conditionedair tightening them further. Begging for attention, my needy pussy quivers between my legs.
My finger frantically strokes my clit in hungry desperation for release. I chase the high, sprinting after the looming orgasmic bliss that’s on the horizon. What I wouldn’t give to be fucked right now, filled and stretched in ways that my slender fingers could never satisfy.
The tails strike me again and again, until I’m covered in a sheer veil of sweat, a dull tremble rattling through me. I’m hovering on the edge of the cliff of rapture, small rocks and dirt falling to the ocean below my feet as I wait to be swept away.
My safe word looms like a gray storm cloud in the distance. I don’t use it; there’s no need. While I haven’t seen my Dominant’s face, I’m certain I’m safe in the palm of his hand.
When the next blow assaults my ass, I scream. As the shrill noise leaves my throat, it releases the mental and physical agony, unraveling my turmoil and uncoiling the dense thoughts that have clogged my mind.
Lost in the torture, I don’t notice the man step in front of me. My eyes remain on the floor, even as his warm palm gently cups my cheek, my body still quaking.
He crouches before me, but I don’t dare look at him without permission.
“You took that so well.” His voice is nearly enough to make me come, sultry and adoring. “This is a reward I’m proud to give you.”
Two of his thick fingers plunge seamlessly inside my overly eager cunt. He begins stroking my clit with his other hand, and within seconds, I’m slipping off the precipice of ecstasy.
“I… Oh, pl—”
He reads my mind. “Come for me, beautiful slut.”
I explode, crying out as I combust, the liberating orgasm seizing me in a firm grasp that doesn’t let me go for several moments. When my eyes open, I’m met with irises the color of a cloudless blue sky.
As the orgasm ebbs, I sink farther into the bathtub, realizing that the eyes in my subconscious belonged to Ford.
Upon reflection, I’m shocked I came to the fantasy of submittingto him. Typically, my mind supplies Grady as the Dominant and things die before they could ever really start. I refuse to analyze what this new revelation might mean, though.
I lounge in the bathtub until I finish my martini, wrapping myself in a plush towel. Padding into the room, I head for the walk-in closet. Once dressed in a black silk sleep set, I emerge, only to notice the door to the bedroom standing wide open.
