She remained strapped to the cross, her thighs quivering and a whimper trickling from her lips. At the table behind her, I took up a soft flogger. The handle was chocolate brown, the tongues black and gold. I moved back around to the front and started gently slapping at her thighs. She tensed at first, drawing in a hiss of breath, but then eased into the action.
I swiped across her legs and calves, then up to her stomach and over her chest. She particularly enjoyed having her chest lightly flogged, arching her back and biting her lip. After a few passes with the soft strikes I started swinging harder. The relaxed
plap
sound of impact became a harder
smack.
She moaned her approval, and I felt pride at being able to make her feel that way. Up and down her body,
smack
,
smack
,
smack
. By the time I'd had enough of the flogger, pink marks were rising on her sensitive skin. The first of many more marks to come.
I exchanged the flogger for a riding crop. I preferred this instrument for its precision. I took it and pressed the keeper, the folded strip of leather, to the inside of her ankle. I dragged it all the way up the inside of her leg and then, before touching her hyper-sensitive pussy, switched over to the other leg, starting at the ankle, drawing all the way up.
I traced her entire outline, shoulders, forearms, the insides of her elbows, all the way to her fingertips. I circled her nipples and traced over her stomach, all while trying to decide where the first strike would land. Finally, I held it up to her cheek and slowly, sensually, slipped it across her bottom lip. Her tongue darted out, and I let her lick the keep before taking it the rest of the way to the other cheek. I enjoyed the symmetry of the exercise.
I decided to start with her hips. I drew a small, delicate circle with the end of the crop, then brought it down with a sharp
CRACK.
She shuddered, and I did the same on the other hip.
Circle