She reaches heaven-ward, wrists embraced in the grip of tight restraints while she stands, feet wide apart, anchored to the floor by similar restraints. Around her neck lies the taut band of a ball gag which stops her voice & another band which holds a blindfold over her beautiful soft eyes. She is tethered to 4 rings, two screwed into the floor, sunken into the heavy planks, while the other pair are screwed solidly into the heavy roof beams of the ceiling. Flickering candlelight surrounds her & the soft summer night air wafts over her nakedness.
She shivers in anticipation, her ears straining for the sound of Master approaching her. He moves so lightly, breathes so softly; moves with a quiet grace she hadn’t expected of a husky older man until she began to know him. The personal ad, the discovering he lived only a few hours away from her, and from the photos on his profile, realised with a start, she’d seen him at munches or gatherings of kink community folks in the city, events she, like he sometimes attended.


It was pure shock to her body, when lost in the whisper of the wind & blowing snow outside the window, the large flogger materialized from thin air, contacting her bare back suddenly, drawing a gasp from her that was blocked by the red ball in her mouth. A second time it swished silently through the warm air, connecting solidly with a thud she felt on the small of her back… Finally she felt a slight disturbance in the air, just as the heavy whip connected with her back again.
As Master warmed to the pinkening of her skin, His rhythm picked up, His hand in constant motion, as He swung the long thin-stranded floggers side to side, connecting from left & right in a steady thumping like a heartbeat. When she felt her whole back heated like the day she’d fallen asleep in the sun,
Master stepped away softly, she heard the heavy flogger falling to the shelf. What would He use next? In her 22 years she’d played, explored, met a few kinksters, who she had a scene or two with, but until the night she met and spent hours talking with the man in his late 40s she now addressed as Master, she had never thought of herself as the kind of girl who was submissive or a slave at heart, just a naughty, kinky young woman. She felt very differently now, less than a year after that first real meeting…
A hard short nylon whip, the leathery bite of the cat-o-nine-tails, a paddle, one of the straps maybe – flat leather, webbing, woven leather, the wide suede one?