“Maybe he should take her to obedience school,” I said. We exchanged mischievous looks and laughed behind our hands.
Scott folded his arms across his chest and glared at us. “Amy, keep it up, and you won’t get flogged today.”
Amy muffled a cough. “Sorry.” She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. When I snickered, she snorted, and Scott let out a sharp huff of breath.
“So my cat runs the house,” he said, rolling his eyes again. “I told you, she keeps me from getting too full of myself.”
“Yeah,” Amy muttered, flashing me a grin. “That’ll be the day.”
Scott swatted her playfully on the rear as he walked by. “Quiet, you. Now get ready so we can do this.”
Without another word, Amy took her shirt and bra off. She didn’t seem at all fazed by the idea of stripping to the waist in front of another woman. But then, something like this was probably tame compared to the things she and Scott did on a regular basis.
Once her shirt was off, Scott handed her a thick leather belt. It reminded me of the belts weightlifters wore to keep from damaging their lower backs.
“That’s to protect her kidneys,” Scott said as she put it on. “You won’t be hitting her as hard as I usually do, but better safe than sorry until you’ve practiced enough to be sure of your aim.”
“She can hit me as hard as she wants,” Amy said over her shoulder.
“She’ll hit you as hard as I say she’ll hit you.”
I bit back a laugh, wondering how many other women got the opportunity to tie up and beat the other woman with whom her man slept.
“Ground rules are pretty straightforward for this,” Scott said, adopting a more serious tone. “This is flogging and nothing more. Krissy, you’re not acting as my sub for this scene, but anything I say goes with regards to Amy.” His eyes shifted back and forth between us. “Any questions?”
“No,” we said in unison.
He looked at Amy. “Ready?”
“Absolutely.”
“Krissy?”
I nodded.
“Well, then what are we waiting for?” He stood in front of her and looked her in the eye. Then he kissed her lightly. After he broke the kiss, he ran the backs of his fingers down the side of her neck. She swallowed hard. When he ran his other hand through her hair, her gaze dropped, and when he kissed her forehead, her shoulders did as well.
Cued into instant submission through a series of simple gestures. Just like he’d done to me in the restaurant, he could do this to her in front of a million people, and no one would be the wiser. To anyone else, she was a woman in love, melting into her lover’s tender gestures. To the trained eye—and mine was trained enough now to see it—it was much, much more.
“What are your safe words?” he asked.
“Red to stop,” she murmured. “Yellow to slow down, Sir.”
“Good.” He stroked her cheek. “Do you understand that both Kristen and I will honor your safe words?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Look at me.”
She raised her eyes, though she kept her chin inclined.
With a sharp nod, Scott indicated the rack of whips and floggers. Amy went to the rack and selected a flogger. She carried it horizontally across her outstretched palms like a holy relic, keeping her eyes down as she returned to us. In front of Scott, she knelt and raised the flogger, presenting it to him.
Scott took it from her, stroking her hair once. Holding the handle in one hand, he slapped the tails against his opposite palm. The air ruffled Amy’s bangs, and a shiver ran up her spine.
“Stand up,” he said.
When she was on her feet, he pointed at the Saint Andrew’s Cross with the handle of the flogger. She obediently went to the cross and stood in front of it, head bowed, waiting for his next command.
He handed me the flogger. “Hang on to that for a second.” Now that his hands were free, he went about binding Amy.
As he secured her left hand, he paused. “You left your ring on, baby. Do you want it off?” Amy nodded and straightened her fingers so he could slip her wedding ring off. He put it in his back pocket, then resumed fastening the cuff. Once her hands were bound, he knelt to secure her ankles.
My heart raced for her, but she didn’t seem in the least bit concerned by her restraints. I envied her ability to be so calm and relaxed while totally immobile.
She was calm and relaxed, and Scott, true to form, got right down to business.
“First things first,” he said. “Start off light. Even when you and your sub are experienced, it doesn’t hurt to go easy at first. It’ll give your arm a warm-up and it gives her skin a chance to get used to it.” He gestured at her with the flogger. “Avoid the belt. Get used to avoiding the entire general area. If you hear the tails hitting leather, adjust your stroke until you’re not hitting it anymore.”
He hit her a few times, alternating from her left side to her right.
“See how it’s getting nice and pink across her upper back?” He gestured at her. “That’s where you want to stay. Now, you also want to make sure you know where your tails are going to land. Watch and see where they hit.” He struck her again. “Notice how none of the tails wrapped around her side. That wrap effect hurts like hell. While Amy here doesn’t mind that sort of thing, get in the habit of avoiding it.”
I had to laugh. Scott spoke completely matter-of-factly, explaining every technical aspect like the engineer he was, and he was either oblivious to or ignoring Amy’s moans and whimpers.
He went on. “Keep it in a figure-eight pattern. It’ll put you in a nice, steady rhythm.” He stopped and handed me the flogger. “Here, you try it.”
I chewed my lip, eyeing the implement in my hand and Amy’s pinked-up back warily. Smacking a pillow was one thing. No one flinched or yelped if I missed, or hit somewhere I wasn’t supposed to, or did it too hard.
“Go on.” Scott gestured toward her. “You’ll be fine, just start out easy, and avoid the belt and her spine.”
Swallowing hard, I raised the flogger. When I brought it down, I flinched, but Amy barely reacted. I tried it just a little harder, and this time was rewarded with the slightest twitch of her muscles. On the third strike, the tails smacked the belt.
“Aim higher,” Scott said. “You don’t want to hit her that low.”
“I know. This thing’s tricky to aim. I was used to the one you sent me home with the other night.”
“Yeah, every flogger’s different. Just keep practicing. Don’t worry, you’re doing fine.” After a few more hits, he said, “Try hitting her harder.”
“How much harder?”
He shrugged. “A little harder than what you’re doing.”
I hesitated. “But, how hard is too hard?”
“Only one way to find out.”
“Scott, I don’t want to hurt her.”
He chuckled and held out his hand. I handed him the flogger. He raised it, let fly, and I jumped when the tails slapped her back so hard it almost stung my skin.
Amy whimpered, the shackles on her wrists rattling as her knees went slack.
“Amy, was that too hard?” Scott asked.
She whimpered again, managing to form something in the vicinity of a “no.” If anything, she sounded on the verge of an orgasm. With the way she trembled, I wondered if she was.
Scott grinned at me. “See? You’re not going to hurt her.” He raised it again, but just before he brought it down, something in another room shattered. Alarmed, I looked at Scott. He closed his eyes, clenched his jaw, and released a long breath through his nose.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Fucking cat,” he muttered through his teeth.
“Do you need to go take care of that?”
He shook his head. “I will when we’re done. I don’t want to leave—”
“It’s okay, Scott,” Amy said. “I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure, baby?” he asked.
S
he nodded.
He chewed his lip for a moment, then handed the flogger back to me. “Keep doing what you were doing. Keep it light if you’re not comfortable without me here. Amy, I’m stepping out. You’re sure you’re okay with this?”
Another nod.
Scott cleared his throat.
“Yes, Sir,” she corrected.
“Good girl.” To me, he said, “I’ll just be a minute. Keep doing what I showed you. Figure-eights, careful of her spine.”
I nodded.
A moment later, the dungeon door clicked shut behind him, muffling his voice as he shouted, “Malia, I’m going to kill you, you fucking cat!”
I looked at the flogger, then at Amy. “Are you sure you don’t mind me doing this without him?”
“You’re doing fine, trust me.” She paused. Her restraints creaked as she twisted enough to look at me over her shoulder. “One thing, though.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Yes?”
“Harder.”
I gulped. I cast another wary look at the flogger, took a deep breath, and raised it. I followed the pattern of slow, steady figure-eights, and with every few strokes, I put more forced behind it. Amy’s moans and whimpers gave me pause a few times, but it didn’t take long to realize every sound was made of pure, delirious pleasure.
The repetitive rhythm was strangely relaxing, lulling me into almost a trance as the flogger’s tails swished through the air, slapped against her skin, then surrendered to gravity and slid down her back. Whoosh. Slap. Slide. Whoosh. Slap. Slide. Amy’s body was limp, her head hanging as she moaned with every stroke.
After a few minutes, I stopped and tucked the flogger under my arm so I could check her hands. They were still warm, and her nail beds still had color.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Mm-hmm.” Her eyes were closed and her head lolled to one side. Had it not been for the restraints, I thought she’d melt to the floor in a puddle.
I stepped back and raised the flogger once more.
The door opened. I glanced up to see Scott stepping into the dungeon, but Amy didn’t even seem to notice that he’d joined us again.
I lowered the flogger as he went to her. He checked her hands, then put a finger under her chin and raised her head to face him.
“You doing okay?”
She simply moaned, but the way the corners of his lips curled told me he recognized the sound as one that was anything but distress.
He looked at me. “That, my dear, is the voice of subspace. Nicely done.” He lowered his hand to let her head bow again. When he came to me, he said, “How are you doing?”
“My arm is getting a little tired.”
He laughed. “Yeah, that’ll happen. It’s—” He paused. “Wait, the way you’re holding it is going to tire your hands and wrists out way faster.” He adjusted my grip. “Try it now.”
As always, Scott was right. The way I held it now was much less strenuous.
By the time we were done, Amy and I were drenched with sweat. My arm and shoulder ached. Her back was bright pink and her body was as limp as the flogger’s tails. More than once, her cries and moans made me wonder if she was going to come just from being flogged, and she moaned in protest when Scott said we were done.
“That’s enough for one day.” He kissed her cheek. “I don’t want to overdo it.”
She murmured something I didn’t understand.
He laughed softly and knelt to unfasten her ankle restraints. Then he stood right behind her and put his arm around her waist. With his free hand, he reached up to unfasten the cuffs. Once her hands were free, her knees buckled and she melted into him. He draped her arm around his shoulders and let her head rest against him.
“Good girl,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “You were perfect, baby.” He looked at me and gestured at a blanket folded on the table. I handed it to him, and he wrapped it around her. Nodding toward the door, he said to me, “Could you go see if Ryan’s back yet?”
I went out to the living room. Ryan was there, kicked back with a magazine. I didn’t even have to speak; as soon as he saw me, he was on his feet.
“Have a good time?” he asked on the way down the hall.
“Definitely. It was certainly…educational.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
As we stepped into the dungeon, Amy didn’t look up. She rested her head on Scott’s shoulder, and he still stroked her hair and spoke softly to her.
“So how much damage did she do?” Ryan asked.
Scott lowered the blanket a little, showing him some of the welts and pink I’d left. Ryan whistled.
“Impressive. Guess I don’t have to ask if she enjoyed herself, then.” He looked over his shoulder and winked at me. To Scott, he said, “You’re done with her?”
Scott nodded. “I left some water in the other room. You know where to look if you need more.”
“Got it,” Ryan said.
“Oh, and this.” Scott reached into his back pocket and pulled out Amy’s wedding ring. Ryan took it, tucking it into his own pocket. Then they carefully moved Amy from Scott’s arms to Ryan’s. Whispering softly to her, Ryan led her out of the dungeon.
“They’ll be in the spare bedroom.” Scott chuckled. “They’ll probably be there for a while. Do you want something to drink?”
“Yes, please.”
I followed him into the kitchen, rubbing the fatigue out of my right arm as I walked.
“Just ice—” he paused, raising an eyebrow at my arm. “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Arm’s just a little tired.”
He smiled and turned to pull a glass down from the cabinet. “It happens. The more you do it, the less it’ll happen, as long as you mind your grip and your swing.”
“Duly noted.” I glanced back down the hall. “So is this how you and Amy usually play? You flog her, then give her back to Ryan?”
He shook his head. “Normally, I do the aftercare with my subs. It’s a chance to make sure we’re still on the same page, things like that. But…” He gestured back down the hall. “Once in a while, and especially if I’m doing something like this, Ryan likes to do it.”
“He doesn’t mind?”
“Does he mind?” Scott laughed as he handed me a glass of ice water. “Hardly. I flog his woman into subspace, then give her back to him primed and ready for an orgasm or twelve.”
“Sounds like quite the arrangement.”
“It suits everyone involved.” He reached for something beside the kitchen island. “And now he’s got her taken care of, which leaves me no other option…” He set a wine bottle on the counter. “…than to have a glass of wine and take care of you.”
Chapter 26
After a couple of sessions with Amy, a handful with Charlotte, and more than a few involving some unfortunate pillows, I had a pretty good grasp on flogging. I wasn’t quite ready to wield a flogger without Scott’s close and constant supervision, but as long as he stayed in the room, I wanted to try it on someone else.
As much as I loved submitting to Scott, I also loved the power I had when I picked up a flogger. The more I learned the technique, the more I enjoyed that power. With every passing session, my inner Domme woke up a little more.
The search for a “worthy victim”—as Scott so eloquently called it—drew us back to the BDSM club.
Scott walked out of the locker room in his usual leather pants, boots, and nothing else. How the hell I was supposed to find someone else to play with when I couldn’t take my eyes off him, God only knew.
“Ready for this?” he asked.
“Absolutely.”
He put his arm around my waist and kissed my cheek. “Let’s go find you a sub, then.”
We’d barely crossed the threshold into the ballroom when a guy I’d never met approached.
“Hey, Scott,” he said.
“Oh, hey, John, how’s it going?” Scott shook his hand, then gestured at me. “This is Kristen. Kristen, John.”<
br />
We shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. With introductions out of the way, John turned to Scott. “Listen, you know the rack in the big dungeon?”
I blinked and glanced at Scott.
He made a dismissive gesture. “I’ll tell you about it later.” To John, he said, “What about it?”
“Something’s wrong with the cranks. Would you mind having a look at it?”
Scott groaned. “Right now?”
“You know I normally wouldn’t pull you aside like this,” John said. “But we’ve got a couple of guests who came specifically to use it, and you’re the only engineer in the building right now who isn’t currently occupied by a ball gag and a butt plug.”
I snorted with laughter, as did Scott. John eyed both of us.
“She’s new to the lifestyle,” Scott said with a laugh. “This is all a bit new to her. Anyway, the rack. What exactly is it doing?”
“That’s just it,” John said. “It’s not. Won’t move.”
Scott sighed. “Sure, I’ll have a look.” He turned to me. “Are you okay by yourself for a few minutes?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Shouldn’t be too long.” He kissed my cheek. “Behave yourself.”
“Do I have to?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yes, you do.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Oh, do I, Sir?”
He tried to glare at me, but a grin tugged at his lips. John’s eyes flicked back and forth between us.
Scott laughed. To John, he said, “She’s trying out her Domme side tonight.”
John chuckled. “Looks like it fits quite well.”
“Yeah, a little too well, I think,” Scott muttered. To me, he said, “You’re sure you’re okay by yourself?”
“I won’t get into trouble, I promise.”
“We’ll see about that.” He kissed my cheek. “I’ll be back in a few.”
He and John disappeared, and I was left alone in this world that was slowly becoming familiar. We’d been here a handful of times, and I didn’t see the bizarre clothing as much anymore. My attention was drawn now to the way the Doms and subs interacted. There was a time in my life when I thought there was a degree of cruelty to dominance and submission. What kind of person willingly surrendered to someone who hit them, punished them, even humiliated them?
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