Slave stretched out on the wide, familiar bed. The sheets were fresh, she'd changed them earlier in the day.
Hands fell on her body, arranging her. She focused on her breathing. Her legs spread, arms tucked to her sides. Voices murmured, quieter than her own breaking, quieter than the sting of her skin.
Silence assaulted her again. No new sensations touched her skin. She held still, against all desire to grope for what was coming to her next. Her body was tense and she forced herself to breath slowly, lest panic take her over.
The soft feel of the many tails of a flogger brushed her breasts, down her stomach and between her open legs. She tenses and twitched as the tails caressed her skin softly. She knew the bite they could wield all too well. And she wasn't sure it was welcome.
The biting blows didn't fall between her legs as she almost suspected. He snapped two strikes quickly, one on each breast. Slave clenched her teeth, her breathe coming like a whimper of pain.
She felt his breath on her face. "You will remain still. Do you understand?"
She nodded, the biting question came again, "Do you understand?" His gloved hand squeezed her breast tightly. "Yes," she squeaked, her back arching slightly. "Yes sir. Remain still."
"Good girl," he murmured, before kissing her swiftly. He bit her bottom lip and then pulled away.
There was a small pause. Slave felt confused for a moment. And then the flogger came down on her again and again, until she was shuddering with the need to move from the pain.
"You have incredible stamina," the hoarse voice said. "You have one minute reprise."
Slave moaned as she stroked her breasts with her hands, trying to soothe her skin. She imagined the lines of red that graced her body. He had the control of her Master. Not one stroke was misplaced on her body. "Are you tired?" he asked, softly.
She shook her head. "Stretched thin. But fine. Not tired."
"All right. A real pain slut, is it?"
"Yes, Sir." Slave strained for sensory input. She longed to beg for the removal of her blindfold. But, that could gain more deprivation. Or punishment.
Slave lay panting. Her ass still stinging vaguely, a mere annoyance in comparison to the pain of her red striped breasts. Not just the sting, but her arousal. Her body was taut, like a string pulled so tight it would break with the slightest touch.
There was a way to find release. But, she shuddered at the thought. She would not beg for release from this- HIM. It was unthinkable.
She jumped as she felt the velvety end of the whip press against her clit. She whimpered as he rubbed it against her. Her body arched up to meet his torture.
And just as suddenly, the pleasure was removed and he slapped her across the cheek. Slave felt the surprise register in the back of her mind, as she absently rubbed her face. But she was more upset that her chance for orgasm had been lost. "I told you would beg for pleasure," he reminded her.