Her answer was once again the same as every time before this one. She gently rests the back of her wrist against the offered strap. He took his time locking it into place. And then, the option to move, to flee, was no longer. She gave the bonds a testing tug, the panic setting in fully once she was indeed held in place. A lump formed in her throat and she was glad for the speech restriction. She knew her face could hide nothing from him, she didn't need her voice to give away the rising terror within.
He stood back to admire his handywork. Held perfectly in place, still, unable to hide or take his fun away... And the growing panic in her face just made him more eager for what he was about to do to her. He didn't have to tell her to watch him, her eyes tracked his every twitch, his every breath... So, the whimper she let out when he waved the blindfold in her face was most satisfying.
Her brows furrowed in a silent protest, begging him not to take her sight. His cruel smile was the last clear thing she saw before the darkness was all that was left. Every noise he made thereafter made her flinch, the fear of the unknown growing and festering with every second she was without her sight. It amused him. Fueled him. So, he made some unnecessary noise to provoke her. He ran a length of chain out of his bag, letting it clatter to the cool wood floor at her feet. She flinched in the opposite direction of the sound as if she was trying to run from it, a soft whine accompanying the action. He shuffled the contents of his play bag around, looking for a good starting point. So many options.
"Ah, this will do nicely..."
The dull scratchy sound of leather against the canvas material of his bag had her attempting to squirm away. The bonds kept her right where he wanted her to be. Her struggles got her nowhere but tired. She didn't even notice his approach until she felt his warm breath at her ear, the sudden stimuli drawing a short, surprised scream from her.
"The only words I want from you are to keep count for me, or your safeword. Do you understand? Answer me."
She opened her mouth to answer but the lump was impossible to push more than a broken squeak past. She cleared her throat before trying again.
"Yes, Sir. I understand." She tried to hold the terror from her voice, the shaking cadence of her voice giving it away. The first strike came the moment she finished her last syllable, leaving her sentence to be ended with a gasp of surprise. Just the single strike from the flogger left pink stripes across the sensitive skin of her breast.
"One, Sir!" She called out loudly, clearly, knowing all too well what happens if she did not. The second strike landed on the opposite breast no downtime between strikes, leaving not a moment of recovery.
"Two, Sir! Three, Sir!" He did not ease up. He aimed for everything he could reach, breasts, belly, thighs, clit. Each swing just a little heavier than the last, warming her up to his specific tastes. Each count she gave became more strained, her voice growing tighter with each count. He did not relent. He could see her starting to shake. He knew she would call her color soon... But he was impressed at the improvement they had made. In their first sessions, it only took five swings before she called out yellow. They were well past five now. His next blow to her thigh was almost a full swing. The way she cried out with all her energy before her head bowed, heavy pants accented with dripping drool that fell below her.
"T...Twenty-six... Sir..." Ah, here it comes. She was exhausted already, though he was far from displeased. He almost expected her to call red and was pleasantly surprised when she only followed it up with, "Yellow, Sir..."
Yes, there it was. That's what he was looking for. He could hear the tears her blindfold soaked up clear in her voice. Her pale skin was decorated with angry red lines and several small welts. Her face was flushed with panic and pain, the rosy color suited her indeed. Red was her color. Putting the flogger aside, he once again stood before her, taking the entire sight in. She may have called yellow, but the mess on the inside of her thighs told him she was far from tapping out.
"I am going to move your blindfold a little so we can talk." Under normal circumstances in this scenario, he would not have given her warning, but a safety check was hardly normal circumstances. He gently pushed the blindfold from her eyes to rest up on her forehead. His next command came gently to her.
"Eyes, Peanut." The smile the command, though more likely the personal nickname, brought to her face was both reassuring and infectious. Her eyes focused on his immediately.
"Are you feeling better after having a moment to breathe? You may speak freely until we start again. What do you need to help you back to green?" As cruel as his sadistic side was, hurt was never the end goal. The way he checked on her did wonders for quelling her fears that had begun to overwhelm her.
"The pain was... climbing too high, too fast on my front side... I feel better with this moment of rest. I got to twenty-six this time!" Though her eyes still glistened with unshed tears, her excitement was not diminished. She wasn't where she needed to be, not yet. They had more work to do.
"Are you ready to continue?"
She looked to his shoulder, focusing on inhaling and holding her breath for a moment before letting it go, the breath carrying away any reservations she may have had left. When she gave him her eyes again, she was centered, the resolve clear in her muddy eyes.
"Yes, Sir. I'd like to continue." Once again, darkness consumed her. She was better steeled this time, her resolve taking back some of the fear he had pulled from her, a silent challenge he took upon himself to restore. She was a little annoyed that she had to wait for what they both craved in that moment, her impatient nature giving her body chills. The room was silent save for her light, quick breaths of anticipation, waiting for what was promised. The soft leather tails of the flogger made little sound, going unnoticed by the intended victim.
There was more than enough room for him to move behind her and he did so with such efficiency that she was none the wiser. The silence, the stillness of the room was raising panic in her once again, her arms tugging gently at their bonds, a way to show her quiet frustration. Her head began to turn in every way possible as if she was trying to search the room for him with her eyes and ears, the former useless thanks to the blindfold, the other not focused enough to pick up his location. He watched as she strained to find an auditable tell of what was to come and when it would come next.
Despite her vigilance, the hit seems to come from nowhere, landing in the middle of her back. Her howl at the surprise attack was a sound he would come to covet. He relished in how she pulled her weight forward, straining to get away from the hits but being unable to move more than an inch or two. "Ah, one, Sir!" The count begins again.
She felt the next sting on her left shoulder. The bite of the leather tails stinging for a moment before turning into a warm glow with a slight ache to follow. "Two, Sir!" She knew she should focus on the task at hand, but with every new hit count, her mind became less inclined to follow her control. A delicious whack. She called out the count and could only pray it was correct. She was lost in the sensation of the scene. The building discomfort and the radiating warmth would build to a devilish crescendo. Until then, she would count. She would endure.
Whack. The force of the hit took her breath away. Before she could utter the count, the next fell upon her. Then the next. She may not be counting out loud, but each new hit coincided with a scream. Tears stung her eyes, the blindfold wicking them away as fast as they fell. And though she had surely missed a few numbers, she managed to squeeze out one more count before she broke and let go of everything she was reluctant to release. This was what was needed. He had to break her before he could use her but that was more than fine for the both of them.
So, she stopped holding back and fully released the flood gates. She would give them what they both desired. She had the power to stop it when she wished, but until she called red... He was pleasantly surprised by her endurance and pride tickled his ego when she lost herself because of him. She had one trait he wasn't so fond of and he was glad to find a way to release her from those bonds.
Her image was everything to her and he didn't mean just her looks. She prided herself on her strength, her ability to be as little of a burden as possible. He admired her strength but hated the reason she coveted it; therefore, he would take the burden from her if only for a little while. With each release he gave her, she healed just a little more. He looked forward to seeing the person she could be.
He put his full strength behind one final swing to her ass, the act drawing the loudest cry yet. As her mouth hung wide to accommodate the air intake needed. Drool dripped from her plump bottom lip, speckling her hanging breasts with the slickness. He knew she was in the right space by the way her body started to tremble. His flogger disappeared from his hand, time to pick up the pieces. He moved so he was in front of her. Her head hung low, her shuddering breath the only interruption in her cries. He gave her a few moments more to reign in her panic before addressing her.
