Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
At twenty strokes, she’s relaxed, and is fully immersed into the scene, her eyes closed and her breathing slow and steady.
“The varying strokes of the flogger are excellent for coaxing your submissive to sub-space,” I say to the crowd. “Varied pain and pleasure are what heighten the response that will bring your submissive to the edge of utter bliss. Start slowly, with gentler strokes.” I demonstrate. “Then harder, with a whip-like motion of your wrist.” A few more hard swats fall, but she barely flinches this time.
In silence, I work the flogger, hard and fast, getting fucking hard at the sound of her little cries and moans. If I pulled down her panties and swept my fingers through her, she’d be soaked.
“It helps to massage out pain,” I say, squeezing and massaging her flaming hot ass. “And it also mitigates any bruising. Sometimes, however,” I explain. “Submissives do far better knowing this is punishment, and there is no comforting reward when they’re being punished.”
I shrug. “But Cora’s a good girl who just needs a firm hand. Come here, Cora.” I’m not playing anymore, and she knows it.
Tucking the flogger into my pocket, she turns to me with wide, curious eyes. I cup her cheek in my hand and kiss her forehead. “You were a very good girl for our demonstration.” I speak louder, to be heard above the noise of the crowd. “Have you learned your lesson?”
I know she’s acting. I know this isn’t really who she is. But when she lowers her lashes and nods her head quietly, I can’t help but kiss her once more. We’re not playing anymore, because now her head is on my shoulder and she’s wrapped up in my arms. I’m hoisting her into the air and holding her against me, her head falling into the hollow of my neck as if she’s meant to be there. She’s relaxed and soft, and feels nice nestled against my chest like this, and I need to get her alone now.
“Any questions?” I ask. Cora sighs, her eyes closed, and doesn’t even register the sound of voices.
“What types of floggers are the more serious ones?” Someone asks. “How do you know?”
I hold the flogger up to show. “The different types of strands here—falls, they’re called—vary in length, weight, and material. Most floggers are made with leather, but some are not. A softer, suede-like leather will produce a gentler sensation, whereas harder, sturdier material will pack a greater punch. Keep in mind, though, that a flogger is a versatile tool, because unlike other implements, the sensation can be either whippy or thuddy.”
“Whippy or thuddy?” someone asks. Cora burrows deeper into my chest. I need to get her out of here.
“Whippy like a whip, thuddy like a paddle.” It’s a basic fact of impact play and I won’t offer any more details, because my job here is done. I don’t offer to answer any more questions either. “Thank you, everyone. She needs some aftercare and that I prefer to be private.” A tall, black-haired guy in leather is scoping Cora out, and I feel my body tense. I don’t want anyone else to look at her. I’ve marked her and made her mine, and the rest of them can go to hell.
I turn my back to him and ignore the rest of them, marching with Cora in my arms like I’m carrying the victory flag in battle.
Nine
Cora
I’m floating, soaring, as if he’s awoken every nerve-ending I have. This can’t be the cold, distant rich guy who’s been giving me shit. This is… this man is tender. Skillful. Somehow, bringing out the dominant in him has brought out the very best.
I don’t want him to let me go. I want to stay like this wrapped up in his arms forever.
“I’ll never fucking do that again,” he growls in my ear.
“Do what?” I ask, but my words feel slurred, like I’m drunk or half asleep. The door slams shut and before I know what’s happening, I’m flat on my back and he’s over me, nearly smothering me, the scent of whiskey and leather and expensive cologne filling my senses. I blink, trying to adjust my eyes to the dim light overhead, but it seems too bright.
“Do what?” he repeats, his tone furious. “Do anything in public with you again.”
“But that was… hot,” I mumble.
“Fuck hot.”
Is the staid business man… jealous?
“Double, Cora.”
I blink in confusion at him. “Double what? What are you talking about?”
“My offer earlier today,” he says, and I suddenly realize he’s stripping out of his clothes and Christ Almighty he’s beautiful. Wide, muscled shoulders, his chest thick and broad with defined muscles that bunch when he moves with fluid grace.
“You need the money,” he says. “Don’t fucking lie to me.” His eyes are alight with blue fire, the molten look he’s giving me searing me in place with its heat.