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his. He moved his hands
down, slid her skirt up until he uncovered the black lace panties that matched the bra. Her ass was every bit as perfect as he'd known it would be. But he'd get to that later. He let the hem of her skirt fall around the tops of her thighs and picked up the small flogger he used on the new girls. It was light enough to get some good sensation, but not enough to hurt unless he really wanted it to. He wanted to hurt her; of course he did. But he wanted her to like it, and he knew for that he had to bring her into it slowly. He started with a gentle stroking of the leather thongs over her flesh. After a minute he saw her let out a breath, saw her shoulders loosen up. He kept up the easy rhythm, watching the tension in her body shift. She was breathing harder, but it wasn't fear or pain. He could feel her arousal coming off her in waves as though it were a palpable thing. His body answered in kind, but he ordered himself to calm, to focus on nothing but her. Another few minutes of that slow, easy stroke, then he gave her one good smack. She yelped.
He moved around to the front of her, lifted her face in his hand so he could see her eyes. They were lit up, like green sea glass. And there was a small smile on her face. That smile went through him like the pure heat of the sun and landed in a warm knot in the pit of his stomach. He tried to shake the sensation away. But looking into her eyes, with the scent of her perfume surrounding him, infusing him, he couldn't do it. The heat traveled through his body, making his cock hard. He couldn't help himself. He bent down and kissed her.
    She was half out of her head and she knew it. But
    when his lips met hers the entire world faded away. God, his mouth
was soft and hot. She leaned in, wanting more, felt one of his hands
slide around the back of her neck, his fingers burying in her hair. She
opened her lips, inviting him inside, but he pulled back, leaving her needy and panting. He slipped his hand up, over her cheek, looked into her eyes. His were shadowed, unreadable. But she could sense the heavy rhythm of his breath.
She had never been in such an exquisite state of arousal in her life.
“Are you ready for more?”
“Yes.”
If only he would kiss her again. Kiss her and kiss her and never stop. But he moved back around behind her once more. She steadied her racing pulse, ready and wanting the soft kiss of his little whip almost as much she wanted his lips on hers. She didn't know why it felt so good, but it did. She'd been scared only the first minute or two before her body had relaxed into it as though familiar with the cadence of his strokes. And there was no real pain. For some reason she didn't understand, she knew she wouldn't mind if there was. He started again right away with the flogger, the leather hitting her skin, releasing its earthy scent. Her body moved right into it, loving the sensation, loving even more that it was him doing this to her. Over and over, while her mind went into a sort of trance of buzzing desire. Then one hard, sharp smack. She gasped, melted, smiled. A cry rose from the crowd. She realized she'd forgotten all about them, about the hundreds of people watching. And this sudden realization sent a surge of excitement through her. His face was next to her ear suddenly. “How are you doing? Do you want more?” “Yes. Please.”
Was this really her here with him, doing these things, asking for more? But she couldn't find it within herself to care. All she knew was sensation, being under his hands. It was too good to stop.
This time he hit her harder. Her body seemed to absorb the sensation,
to turn it into pure pleasure. And after a while she found if she
opened her eyes and focused on the crowd, their energy fed her. Fed her pleasure, fed her desire.
She had no idea how long she'd been there when he stopped and wrapped an arm around her waist, his palm flattening on her bare stomach. Fire flooded her and she wished he'd move his