Page 25 of Flog Me, Sir

Chapter Nine

Lissa

“This is a crop,” Garret murmured, running what I assumed to be its end along my cheek. “It has a thin, flexible tress and isn’t meant to cause any pain.”

I nodded and swallowed, wishing like hell I could see, so I could know what would come next.

“Relax.” He brushed his lips over mine. “I won’t truly hurt you—unless you want me to.”

“Yes, Sir,” I managed past the fear—and lust—running rampant through me. I wanted to experience what he could show me. Longed to have first-hand knowledge of what I’d read and written about since the spanking had proven to be the best experience of my life—aside from having his cock deep inside my body.

“We need to discuss a safeword, Lissa.”

“Red,” I hastened to say the first thing to come to mind.

He chuckled. “Someone’s been reading.”

I licked my lower lip, too far gone with need to be embarrassed. “Yes, Sir.”

“Red it is,” he murmured, the caressing heat of him leaving my front. “Green means go, yellow means you need a moment to process—for me to check in.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Garret touched the tress to my raised arm, trailing it downward with a feather-light touch. Fire raced in its wake, and I bit my lip to keep from asking for more. I focused on the touch, the sound of his measured breaths. I focused on the need between my thighs, the ache in the back of my throat from where he’d gagged me with his cock.

What an experience that had been.

A fresh rush of arousal swelled in my pussy at the memory of his taste, the raggedness in his voice as he’d crooned what a good girl I’d been, taking every drop.

I had pleased my Sir—and I wanted to do it again.

He circled my breast with the crop, and I shifted toward him, trying to get him to touch where I needed him.

A light snap sounded—and a delicious, but not nearly harsh enough, sting raced from my nipple to my throbbing clit.

“God,” I groaned, my back arching.

He snapped me again, and I gasped.

“If you can’t hold still—” he leaned in and cupped me between the thighs, his breath hot on my ear “—I’ll deny you what this sweet pussy craves.”

The desire to rub against his palm, chase the orgasm lingering on my horizon, gyrated my hips before I could stop myself.

He tsked, the heat of him once more disappearing. Three quick snaps landed on my other breast, and I bit my lip to keep from shifting. “Be a good little girl, Lissa,” he warned with a soothing tone. “Hold still and let me have my way with you.”

Lower lip between my teeth, I nodded.

“Acknowledge me.”

“Yes, Sir,” I scrambled to speak. “I will, Sir.”

Garret continued to tease, to snap the crop along my body—but not between my thighs like I’d expected. He ignored where I needed him most, seeming to want to drive me insane—to tears and sobs—before relenting and giving me release.

I sagged in the shackles, the softness of the wide bands keeping my wrists from chafing. Overwhelmed with lust, with the need to come, I swam in my buzzing brain, like floating through muffled heartbeats.

My body’s need to come swelled and receded like the ocean, tempting and tickling toes wanting waves to crash over them.

Lips parted, I panted for breath, my heart beating heavy and fast in my chest. My core throbbed to the point of aching pain.

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