A True Master

Thwack! The soft leather whip left another bright red line on woman's tender rump. The pain from the stroke weakened her legs enough that for a few seconds her full weight hung from the pulley. Spasms quivered up from the base of her spine to the top of her skull. A raspy moan just escaped her lips as her eyes rolled up into her head. The fireworks had to be going off pretty good in there. I was on a roll.

Woman regained a bit of composure and was again able to balance on her toes. I took a moment to critique my progress. The strip of welts across her bottom provided the viewer with a lifelike depiction of crimson colored Venetian blinds. I scraped my nail from one corner of her rump to the other. Each time I crossed a line of damaged flesh, woman flinched from the golden flash of pain brought by my Midas touch. This was some of my best work ever.

"Enough of that for now," I pronounced.

I set my whip down on the dresser where the toys are kept. What next? I glanced over at my subject. It took a few moments for the vision of the art hiding beneath her surface to make its self-evident. With a smile on my face, I unfastened the strap that kept my favorite blade in its sheath. It was a beautiful dagger, solid silver with a smooth onyx handle. The black dragon the artisan carved at the base look ready and willing to inflict injury. I held the knife across woman's cheek and pulled her head back as far as I could. I made sure she could see the razor sharp edge of the blade glinting in front of her eyes.

"We're going to get cut today. I don't want to hear a sound out of you. We wouldn't want me to slip, would we."

She shivered at my words. I like a sub with a good imagination. Slowly, I drew the dagger down the front of her body between her breasts. Its tip left light white marks mapping the circles I scratched around her erect thumb sized nipples. The trail was flanked by a wake of goose bumps that proved that the experience was quite pleasurable. I etched more artwork down her squirming body. The leather chaps I wore were starting to rub uncomfortably against my increasingly erect penis. I edged my weapon toward her sensitive clitoris.

"Brinnnng," The sound cut through my focus as sharply as a razor. "Brinnnng."

"Shit," I blurted. I'd forgotten to take care of the phone.

Continuation on Quoom.com