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She crawled along the carpet, fingers and knees feeling for the end of the carpet runner. Hesitant and jerky in her motions, but she was failing miserably to be fluid and graceful. She felt the hem of her skirt play on the back of her thighs, riding higher as she moved forward, trying to put a little sway in her hips just like her master… or wait… was it her mistress who summoned her? Her mind wandered, the good girl arguing with the bad girl side. Her bad girl wanting to sway and saunter, if you could do that in a crawl, with a blindfold on, not knowing to whom or what she was crawling towards. The good girl in her caused the jerking, halting motions, making her want to pull the skirt down, throw the blindfold off and run for the door. Full force, flat out run from this position she put herself in, trying to make a couple extra bucks but the lure of the dark sexual place took hold of her bad girl, drew her inch by crawling, hot, anxious inch. These thoughts were rudely interrupted as she sensed the riding crop as it sluiced through the air a second before it licked the back of her upper thigh.
She knew what she was supposed to do, but damn it had caught her off guard. Her reaction was the exact opposite of that of which she should have done. She threw her head back, rocking forward on her hands and knees, and away from the sting. All in one movement and a second of time, her back arched, pushing her ass up – the only correct movement in the entire litany. Her bad girl laughed and smirked thinking that was funny and her good girl persona worked every other cell in her body.
The riding crop bit again, the crease between thigh Sahabet and the very bottom of her ass cheek, feeling the sting. Her reaction was still a minute behind. She hurriedly moved forward on her knees, off balance, her hand crossing over the carpet runner and sliding on the not-so-smooth wood. Her knee burning as she tore the skin off in her hurry.
She froze, time seemed to slow and quiet the air. Her senses only allowing the feeling of her teeth biting her lip, the heat where the crop had caught her and the brush burn on her knee. Time quickly caught up to the present when she heard high heels clacking on the hard wood floor. No warning as fingers entangled in her hair, pulling her up and back on the carpet. She felt her Mistress’s lips against her ear, “Get it together bitch, Master doesn’t like his subs misbehaving!”
The hand in her hair ran fingernails gently down her scalp, adjusting the bandana over her eyes, soft hands pulling her shoulders back. Fingers ran down her spine, just enough pressure to not tickle. Hands smoothed her skirt, pausing to skim the welts, bringing a little fire back into them. Fingers tracing her calves, pushing back into place.
“Crawl to me.” Master’s no-nonsense voice.
She crawled, knowing her Mistress was watching her backside move toward him.
Focus, she thought. No performance, no extra cash. She crawled as seductively as possible, knowing all eyes were on her. Her bad girl enjoying feeling Master’s demand and Mistress’s gaze. Moving forward, the anticipation of what was to come and the touch of the crop already seducing her, causing immense arousal Sahabet Giriş of her bad girl self.
Her skirt rode up, cool air on her skin. She felt eyes on her backside and the thong between her lips as she moved. Her nipples brushing against the fabric of her tank top, the ribs in the material brushing against them with each forward move.
Lost in her own head, she gasped as her shoulders hit shins, the top of her head touching … what… the couch? A chair? Whatever it was, he was sitting in it. She stopped, knowing it was game on time.
“Begin.” Master’s voice deeper now, less demanding and more excited?
Heels muffled by the carpet, moving between her legs pushing them apart. Hands flipping her skirt up farther on her back, Mistress exposing her completely as those soft hands slid the material slid up her back pushing her face down on the carpet, her shoulders on his shoes.
Tassels dancing across her calves, thighs and ass making every nerve electrified. Then Mistress snapped them against her cheeks. She moaned, and pushed back into the next caress of the leather. The speed and intensity of each stroke picked up, barely allowing time for a breath in between. Expertly, her Mistress whirled the touch of the cat-o-nine tails down one leg and jumping to the other, back up her thighs. Shivers ran through her as the licks bit a little harder into her flesh.
The chair creaked as he leaned forward, hands on the bottom of her tank top, yanking it over her head and off her arms in two quick pulls. Her back now lay open for her Mistress. Carpet enticing her nipples to harden and excitement Sahabet Güncel Giriş rippled through her as the strokes moved between her legs, only her thong between the leather and her most delicate skin.
She was almost in that place, the one where pleasure and pain blend into one feeling. Her body pushed down further into the carpet knowing she had many more wickedly delicious lashes to endure.
“Count out loud for me.” Mistress demanded.
She did as she was told, sometimes having to repeat as her voice failed her. One to fifteen, each number turning up the intensity of the stroke till she was yelling out the last several numbers.
Her thong unable to hide her soaked excitement as Mistress knelt between her legs, fingers lightly tracing the rising welts, down her back, over her ass under and between her skin and the dampened fabric of the thong. Mistress slid fingers into her as she was losing control and pushed back onto them.
Finger tips touched the small of her back like icicles shocking bare skin. The delicious tendrils of excitement and desire coursed through her like lightening zig zagging across a stormy, night sky. Her excitement climbed higher, causing her mind race with jumbled thoughts and just primal lust controlling her, insisting on more. She would do anything in this second for these people to fulfill the need that so overwhelmingly engulfed her.
One moment later, she felt herself pushed roughly backwards, the sole of Master’s shoe planted on her breastbone. The heel caused her to suck in her breath as she landed awkwardly, heels cutting into her ass as she regained her balance, mouth open, confusion clouding her features as she looked at Master.
But he was already on his feet, walking away. Long confident strides, and a snap of his fingers the only motion before the door’s closing echo resonated in the room.
Special thanks to my very special editors.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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