My Master trails the tresses of the flogger over the contour of my spine to my face. Lingering and soft, the sensation is exotic, erotic, and I shiver.
He murmurs, “Charlotte, if this gets close to your limits, you say ´Yellow´. If it becomes too much, you say ´Red´. Do you understand?"
“Yes, Master."
“You´re sure? You stop this at any time. You simply say ´Yellow´ or ´Red´."
“Yes, Master. I understand."
He strokes my hair, which trails in a long, foxy fall from the padded bench, then, moving around me, draws the tails along from my shoulders, to the curve of my waist and hip.
A pause, a sharp flick, and the soft lashes kiss my thighs.
I quiver, my lips parting as my breathing increases to panting. Another lash licks across my buttocks. This is not painful; only... stimulating. My f
