i cupped her breast with my right hand, lovingly tracing the curve with my thumb. putting my lips to her clavicle, i slowly worked my way up from collarbone to earlobe with a gentleness i reserved for her. i whispered, “i need you,” and sighed in relief, almost purred.

she turned her head to look me in the eyes and smiled like the cheshire cat.

“shall we begin?” she asked quietly. i nodded and knelt.

i looked up at her with such affection and devotion. she was the only one who recognized my need to feel the sort of pain that would put most off. she knew my body better than i did, in some respects, and knew that her heavy hand also healed me. often the pain she gave me would be so intense, my vision would go soft around the edges and i’d stop being able to hear her reminders to arch my back and take more. but always, afterwards she would rub the places that hurt with a warm lavender balm and kiss them as if blessing and purifying me.

i looked up at her and waited quietly and patiently. i did not know where she would start this time, but that never mattered. she was creative, deft with her tools and toys, and always seemed to know just where to touch, where to bite or tickle.

i could feel my pussy swell as she bent down and lifted my chin ever so slightly.

“we are going to start when i’m ready. do you understand, baby girl?”

i smiled and said, “yes, ma’am.”

she brushed the hair out of my eyes and said, “good girl.”

then she closed the door.

 

—-

to be continued…