New Flogger

New Flogger New Flogger

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Tags

Summary

Master introduces a new toy.

Tags

Summary

Master introduces a new toy.

Content

Submitted: July 22, 2018

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Content

Submitted: July 22, 2018

A A A

A A A


New Flogger – I’m a Lucky Whore

 

 

 

I approached Master with a germ of an idea – I’d seen a photo of a “Mr. Grey’s flogger” online, and couldn’t get the image out of my head. Keep in mind, I have not read any of the 50 Shades of Grey books nor seen any of the movies, so I have no idea if the photo which so intrigued me was accurate or wildly off the mark.

 

After some discussion about flogger styles and sizes, Master encouraged me to purchase a larger, heavier version than the one I currently own.  With His guidance I purchased a cowhide leather flogger with a rubber handle and 18” falls.  It arrived in the mail last week, which brings me to the main point of the tale.

 

I was forbidden to open the package until Master was available to be with me.  Any private fantasies I had of hefting its weight or running my fingers through the falls, exploring the new toy in private, was squashed. Instead, the unopened box rode around in my car with me, going everywhere I did, with me knowing it was always so close, but untouchable.  As of today, I still have not seen the new flogger, so my imagination has been running overtime, trying to picture how it will look, imagine how it will feel.

 

In my head, I’m sitting at Master’s feet when He pulls the box open, allowing Him the first glimpse while I crane my neck to see alongside Him. He’ll lift it out of the packing material and tear open the protective plastic, revealing an all-black medium-sized flogger, its leather falls hanging from a swiveled rubber handle. I know He’ll be watching my reactions as He tosses the empty box aside and hefts the flogger from hand to hand, testing the weight and the rubber grip, flexing His wrists to judge the flogger’s response and how it shifts in His hand.  I can imagine the new leather smell of it, and the scent of fresh rubber, too, that “new” smell which accompanies nearly all new toys.

 

If I’m lucky, Master will then trail the falls over my skin, my shoulders, neck, face and chest, allowing me to be caressed and teased by the light touches. I’ll shiver, probably, at the slightly ticklish sensations as the falls trace a sensitive pattern over my flesh. I’ve always enjoyed this treatment with my old, small flogger, and see no reason why the larger flogger would be different. I wonder if it will feel heavier, thicker, heftier used this way.

 

I imagine that after a few minutes of this, where He’s learning the way the new flogger fits His hand, He will direct me to lie on the bed, on my back, my knees open wide so His pussy is in full view. Lord above, just thinking about those falls being dragged over His property makes me wet! I love, love that sensation: the direct stimulation of the falls touching my center, sparking desire within me; then the fear that at any moment those gentle caresses can be replaced with the flick of Master’s wrist, the sharp sting causing me to arch up as a cry leaves my lips. Master is well aware how to coax those reactions from me, leading me from tender desire to painful stings and back to desire again, in a pattern only He knows.

 

At some point, I am sure He will direct me to stand up, wobbling on shaky legs after being teased but not allowed to cum – and this is when Master will seriously assess His new toy. I stand there, arms raised and clasped behind my head, leaving my entire body open for Him. I swallow, waiting, while He runs His fingers through the falls, untangling them, before flicking His wrist back and then sharply forward. My breath catches and I squeak when the flogger snaps across my chest and stomach, and I can hardly describe it – more than a sting, more solid and heavy, but not incredibly painful – though I am sure it certainly can and will be before the day is over. Master enjoys the part of sadist sometimes, and I struggle, because I am not in any way a pain slut. But here, now, I do my best to maintain my feet, because I know more is coming.

 

Another solid thump, another squeak and gasp, and I can already feel the residual ache from just these few blows. My breasts sway with the force of the stroke, my pale skin darkens as already bruises are blooming, the soft swell of my stomach tinted red where the falls have landed under Master’s swing. A few more strikes connect, and tears leak from my eyes. The new flogger is heavier, stingier, and Master is a strong man; I am aware He is not swinging hard, even, but Goddamn, this is starting to hurt like hell. I’ve lost count of the number of strikes by now,  knowing only that my body is trembling and I’m in pain and please, please, I’m about done in.

 

Master stops, and I breathe heavily for a minute; He then directs me to bend over the bed, presenting my back and ass to Him. Given our previous position, this is practically untouched territory for Him, and He sets about changing that. The flogger thuds against my ass, and I yelp as I’m rocked forward. Shit, that hurts. Master lands another blow and I give up any pretense of being strong through this; tears fall freely as I sob, and my nose runs as I cry. My ass and upper thighs are on fire, I swear, and my arms shake from holding myself in place. Within minutes – though it feels much, much longer – He tells me to count to 10, and though my voice cracks and shakes, I comply. The tenth and final blow is the hardest of the day, and I nearly collapse when I feel it break against my skin.

 

I hear a quiet thump as Master drops the flogger to the floor, but can’t help flinching when His large warm hand runs over my back. “Good girl,” He says. “You did really well with that.”  I cannot speak, still crying, but I nod my head. He allows me to lie on the bed and slowly, slowly, my tears dry up and I begin to relax. I am sore all over, and stiff; it hurts to move, so I curl into a ball and breathe as shallowly as possible for many long minutes. Eventually, though, I feel recovered enough to roll to my side and seek out His eyes. He is watching me, assessing the damage, waiting to see if I am OK or will need more support. A nice warm shower will go a long way to easing the aches.

 

Or at least, this is what my imagination tells me.  :)


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