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awakening

“You are into whaaaaaaaaat?” asked my best friend Sally, her large green eyes incredulous.   “You let him beat you!” she added for good measure to my escalating regret in confiding in her.   Taking a sip of my coffee, I strived to appear calm and in control.   Most of all I tried to appear sane while she contemplated the value of a butterfly net at that moment.    

“It’s not what you think, flogging can be very sensual,” I said in a dignified voice, picking my words carefully in this minefield I’d led us both into.   I squirmed a little in my seat, my bruised arse singing out a happy song of cherished pain.   Fine lines do not exist for those who choose to see in black and white; Sally dealt in rainbows, so I determined not to abandon ship.   Looking her straight in the eye I watched her pupils dilate as I said, “Why don’t you let me show you?   If you don’t like it I’ll stop.”  

I had deliberately played to her weakness, she could never say no to a good challenge.   She’d lost our last challenge when she had declared another woman couldn’t bring her to orgasm, she’d been a good sport about that one.   She was bound to be a good sport about this one too, whichever way the cards fell for us.

This is how I came upon the virgin BDSM flesh before me.    I had bound her wrists to the pole that masqueraded as a support beam in my bedroom.   Her hourglass figure trembled slightly in anticipation.   She said she was fat, I thought she was the epitome of womanly curves; one day I intended to win the argument on that one too.  

I ordered her to close her eyes.   She giggled that I’d given her a command.   I said nothing and merely waited.   Finally the giggling ceased and she acquiesced.   Let the games begin!  Running the deer skin flogger over her vulnerable breasts she was powerless but to squirm under the velvety caress.  

“Oh my,” I exclaimed with mock concern, “I do so hope that didn’t hurt too much.”   Her nipples stiffened in reply. Gentle strokes to her arse followed.   She quivered ever so slightly fearing pain would come, but the easy steady tempo soon led her astray from her fears.   Like a buggy ride on a sunny afternoon.   I noticed her visibly relaxing and smiled to myself.     

The riding crop soon found its way into my hand.   How I adore the crop myself!   Such a coaxing and cunning device with many applications and sensory outcomes.   Little taps at first, very slight sting.   Still building on tempo, we had broken out into a trot.   She pushed out her arse a little, feeling game.   Her buttocks had turned a cheery pink as blood rushed to the surface.  

Diving off the deep end I delivered a repetition of hard slaps with my bare hand, then walked up behind her and squeezed her nipples making her yelp.   The very same nipples I’d only ever gently engulfed within the warm cocoon of my mouth.   This was the defining moment.   The power to abort the mission was entirely in her hands.   I

Sharp intake of surprised breath.   “oowwww’, she murmured in astonishment.   I ceased all external stimuli, sniffing the wind for her internal workings.   

“What do you want?”   I asked holding my breath.   Her answer didn’t really matter.   Either way my esteem for my dear friend has risen impossibly higher.   Too few would be brave enough to take a sneak peak into my world that s so often defiled and shunned in ignorance.  

“I want….”, she hesitated a little disbelieving her next word more than I did, “…more”.   A heavier flogger was already in my hands and again I dragged it over her breasts so she could acknowledge the difference in impact that would soon be applied.   Marking ascension to my intrepid flight companion.    

“Good,” I said running a finger down her spine finally resting to the warm damp hole where she felt most whole at this moment.   “There will be no further questions from me and next time you will ask for what you want more politely.”    I let the heavy flogger fall with a harder strike and the fire running over her skin built towards an inferno. Then very lightly my hands caressed where evil had been done with intoxicating coolness.   Oh the contrast of pleasure and pain.   So the pendulum swings high, so it must swing low.  

 “What do you want,” I asked again.  

 “I want more….” I wound the thick length of her hair in my hands and forced her head around so she had to look me directly in the eyes and waited, “….please,” she added, deeply satisfying me by the pleading note.   The raw hunger and need I knew so well.  I would answer the call.        

There would be no losers after all.  

  

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