Tonight we were going to do something different. Rope, rhythmic flogging, stress relief.
I knew I was in good hands as we entered the woodshed though I still had those pre-scene butterflies. The air was chilly that evening which became more apparent after I removed my dress.
I stood waiting as he grabbed the necessary items from his bag. The rope came first.
“Hold your arms out and hands together in front of you,” he said.
I nodded and followed his instruction. He quickly bound my hands together, checked that his fingers could slide underneath so it wasn’t too tight.
He tossed the remaining length of rope over the rafters above us, tying and securing the fallen end to my wrists.
I stood with my arms extended out and upward in front of me, almost in a prayer pose. I could hear him rustling through his bag behind me as he retrieved his floggers.
He started with the lighter one and warmed up my skin from my shoulders down to my ass and back again.
I relaxed as I got used to the sensation, kisses of leather flicking across my body.
He worked skillfully with his flogger, varying the intensity based on my reactions.He walked around and checked that my hands still had good circulation then resumed.
It was the heavier flogger now. The sting on my skin intensified as I grew accustomed to the thuddiness of it across my back.
The pace increased as he got into the rhythm, the leather falls licking my reddening skin.
My mind was fully relaxed with my body following. Nothing to think about except us in this moment.
The roughness of the rope rubbing against my wrists. The sting of the leather across my skin. The resulting heat emanating from my body. The smile that greets him after we’re finished.
This is why I do what I do.