Page 42 of Dance for Me

People didn’t die from heart attacks at her age, did they?

Bodie’s heart worked on overtime. Her hands were captured, securely bound by cuffs and chains. Her naked body stretched out along the cool leather for anyone and everyone to see, with her traitorous breasts all perky and her nipples seeking attention. Between her open thighs, cool air kissed wet flesh.

Braun seemed huge from this angle, ranging over her like some dark angel come to wreak havoc on her tainted soul. He wielded the flogger in his hand expertly, his fingers curled around the glossy wooden handle with a loose grip.

As the flogger swung down, she winced and turned her head away, hoping not seeing the blow land would lessen the pain. God, this was crazy! She wasn’t a wimp by any stretch of the imagination, but she wasn’t someone wired into actively seeking out pain either.

If she could just find her bitchy self again, reignite the angry spark, she could shed this meek version of herself and rebuild the strong, lonely Bodie she’d come to know and hate.

Something tickled her belly, just under her breasts. Automatically, her hands reached to scrub the irritation away and jarred to a stop by her sides. With a squeak of alarm, memories of that fucking fence rising quickly, she twisted and bucked.

“Boadicea,” Master Braun—he was every inch the Master in his element now—admonished her gently. “Stop fighting it.” Another brush of the strands swept over her breasts, teasing her nipples to aching. “You are safe.” And again. “I’ve got you, little one.” And again. “Just take a deep breath and focus on me.”

Her world narrowed down to him and the soothing caress of the flogger. The frantic flutters of her breathing slowed, fell into step with the rhythm of Braun’s arm swaying back and forth. Her heart jumped with every connection of material and skin.

“Relax your hands, Bodie. Lay them by your sides.”

They obeyed his voice without any effort on her part. If he told her to stand up and dance like a chicken, she imagined she’d be flapping bended arms and clucking in time to some internal song.

He dragged the tails over her chest, worked down her body in slow, sweeping blows that grew harder. But her body went lax, tension ebbing from taut muscles. Her eyes followed the fronds as they struck, and Bodie lost herself in the hypnotic sway, even when they licked at the seam of her sex before moving on to her thighs.

There really wasn’t anything to worry about.

Braun gently flogged the soles of her feet, making her toes curl, then meandered all the way back up her unresisting form. By the time he reached her breasts, Bodie felt drugged and completely in tune with him as though the flogger was an extension of his hands.

“What color are we, gorgeous girl?”

She almost snorted. Her, gorgeous? Who was her Master kidding? Her voice was a slurry mess when she said, “Green, Master Braun.”

“Submission at its most beautiful,” he murmured. “We’re going to do that again, little one. Stay just as you are. I’m so proud of you.”

Heat flared like a solar storm inside her, making her feel tingly and euphoric. She was doing good, wasn’t disappointing him. She never wanted to disappoint him.

She was his good girl.

The second round of flogging was more intense, she discovered. The caress of the strands had awakened all the nerves, brought blood rushing beneath her skin so now she discerned each individual strip as it flicked over her.

Over and over again, Braun travelled the length of her body. Up and down, up and down, until her physical form writhed to meet the next lash. Her brain packed its bags and whistled its way out of the door, giving her a cocky salute as it departed. Meh, who needed a brain when she was already floating on a sea of bliss, quivering for another swish of the flogger?

“Little one, how are you feeling?” Master Braun’s voice floated alongside her, a sexy thunderclap of sound in her dreamy world.

“Really, really good, Sir.” Bodie giggled as the tips of the tail glided down the center of her torso, over her tummy. They tickled her pubic mound, then grazed the hot, swollen flesh shielded by her thighs.

“Clever girl. Spread these legs wide for me. Let me look at my pussy while I decide what I want to do with it tonight.”

“Nooooo, ‘s my p-p-p—”

“If you can’t call it what it is, you can’t claim it, Bodie.” The flogger flicked over the junction of her thighs teasingly. “Now open these legs and let me see my pussy. You have three seconds, darlin’,” he warned darkly, “before I tie them open and flog you until you come screaming. Three...”

Keeping her thighs together, she pulled her legs up defensively, crossing her ankles and protecting herself. Her heels nudged her buttocks. There, let’s see him flog me now!

The flogger snapped over his palm; her knees weakened and drooped to the sides. “Two...”

Oh boy, his eyes were midnight blue now, bordering on black, and he looked like he meant business. The flogger thwacked onto his hand over and over again. “Hang your legs off either side of the table, little one. If I don’t see some sweet pink pussy, the next few minutes are going to sting.”

She hesitated.

“One.”

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