Little Red Riding Crop(7)

“A long time ago.” She started to smile up at him but remembered her place.

“Too long. Look at you … dressed up like one of the big girls with her big girl boots. And trying to play with the big kids? It’s embarrassing. Are you even thirty yet?”

“Thirty-one … Sir.”

“Are you even five feet tall?”

“Five foot three.”

“You’re a little girl, Nora. And someone needs to remind you that this town doesn’t belong to you.”

Brad reached down and tapped Nora under her chin, a signal that she was to look at him. She met his eyes and waited in silence.

“So this is how we get you to shut up.” Brad grinned wickedly at her and desire coupled with rebellion welled up within her. “We should make you submit more often. Cross. Now.”

Nora started to stand up, but Brad put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down.

“Crawl to it.”

She hid her rolling eyes behind her hair and crawled on her hands and knees to the St Andrew’s cross on the wall.

“Up.”

She stood up and waited as Brad unlaced her corset and pulled it off her. It took a hard bite to her own tongue to stop herself from smirking as Brad stared at her now-naked breasts.

“What a waste …” Brad sighed, as he cupped her breasts in both large hands. The heat from his hands sank into her skin. Nora almost sighed from the pleasure of his touch, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “Such a beautiful woman … you should spend your days and nights naked tied to a man’s bed, gagged and blindfolded with your body waiting to be used.”

He kneaded her right nipple and Nora closed her eyes.

“But instead Kingsley keeps you locked up in leather.” Brad kissed that sensitive spot under her ear as he unzipped her skirt. Nora suppressed a ragged breath. She didn’t want to want this as much as she did. She had to control herself, stay focused, let him do what he wanted so she could get what she wanted and get out. But she couldn’t quite remember what she wanted.

Brad pulled her skirt down and off her before touching her clitoris gently with the tip of his finger.

Oh yes. That was what she wanted. Now she remembered.

Naked but for her boots, Nora stood waiting as Brad assaulted her with the softest of kisses on her neck and shoulders, the most careful of touches on her breasts. His restraint was the purest form of torture for a woman who hadn’t been fucked in two months.

“Turn around,” he ordered, but didn’t wait for her to comply. He simply spun her and forced her into the cross. Nora rested her cheek against the smooth wood and waited. So many memories crowded into her mind … memories of nights she’d left behind with the one man, the only man, she’d ever loved …

“Do you like it?” Brad asked as he strapped her wrists and ankles to the X-shaped cross. “I made it myself.”

“It’s beautiful.” Nora spoke with sincerity. She knew good work when she saw it. “Sturdy. I like the black paint. Looks a lot like the one in my basement at home.”

“You keep a St Andrew’s cross in your basement? You’re kinkier than I thought.”

Nora shrugged. “It’s good for drying laundry.”

“That’s it. That’s a flogging for you.” Brad pulled away and Nora grinned into the crossbeam.

“Oh … darn.”

She steeled herself as behind her Brad whipped the air with a flogger. From the sound of it, she could tell he’d picked a heavy one. It beat the air instead of slicing through it. This would hurt.

Good.

The first blow landed without a word of warning, but she managed to stifle any cries of pain or shock. The second landed even harder, but still Nora kept quiet. Sadists and Dominants loved forcing a reaction from their subs–pleasure, pain, shock, shame, it didn’t matter as long as the submissive entertained them with their moans and gasps and pleas for mercy. But Nora wouldn’t give Brad the satisfaction.

After a few minutes, he dropped the flogger and Nora panted as quietly as she could while her back burned and ached. What would he do to her next? Caning maybe? A single-tail? A paddle? She’d had it all before. Nothing he did would shock her or surprise her.

From behind her she heard movement, the rustle of fabric. She gasped when Brad pressed his body against her back. She felt nothing but skin and desire against her.

“Now I know how to get a reaction out of you.” Brad chuckled in her ear. His erection pressed into her. She felt a drop of something warm and wet on the small of her back.

“I promise … I’m reacting,” she whispered as Brad ran his hands up and down the sides of her body … over her ribcage and waist, down her hips and thighs and up again. He slipped a hand between her open legs and shoved two fingers inside her. They went in easily, her wet body giving him no resistance.