...please...

please
ple-
please

She is nearly inaudible. I bend low to hear her. “Yes?” It is my turn to be gentle and soft and strong. “Yes, Seelie?”

Please. Please hurt me some more. Hurt me. Please.

She’s sobbing now, writhing on the suspension. Her ass not merely pink, but deeply scarlet. Our partner has left paddle marks over both cheeks. Her shoulders are covered in whiplashes, the right a bit more intense than the left. I have never seen anything more beautiful.

And I tell her so, whispering repeatedly, “You are beautiful,” as my horsetail flogger meets her back, her buttocks, her thighs in a crisscross pattern that I know from personal experience is unbearable. Or more accurately spoken, nearly unbearable. Exquisite pain heralding exquisite surrender.

The Seelie Eyed Grrl is in the space of total altered consciousness. She does not know what sensation is next. She fights. She cries. She cries. She cries. She is Ours and Ours totally.

“You are so beautiful,” I whisper in her ears, caressing her hair, her breasts, her back, her thighs, her ass, her cunt. I touch her beautiful skin, spreading the sensation, as I lean closely to bite her just under the scapula, grabbing that delicious flesh and rolling it between my teeth. Until only the skin remains trapped in my passion. I long to tear this white flesh. And it is the trust she gives me that permits me, in fact requires me to leave her beautiful body marked, but intact.

I am deeply aroused in her surrender, at our control. Our control of The Seelie Eyed Grrl, blindfolded, bound, wearing only her stockings and her pretty, pretty red shoes.

And I am aroused by the control I have over my own Beast. The Beast who desires more than anything to hurt, to cause deep pain inside this beautiful woman. This Beast who serves only me.

Our Lover loosens her wrists minutely, and fucks her face violently as I stroke and admire her ass. I am eye-locked over her back with him, as he shoves his dick into her mouth. I am eating her ass and see in his face the same greed for her pain and the same respect of this desire. And the great rousing passion at riding this Beast: The victory the strength of control of power.

Then she is tied again tightly in total surrender. I begin to tap her pussy with my deerskin flogger gently, gradually, then more forcefully until I do not dare to push her harder.

And yet, I do.

The flogger cracks and snaps against her flesh. “I can feel how you much want this,” I whisper. “You are wet. You are dripping on the floor. You are so beautiful.”

And he begins to eat her as she finally topples over this edge she has been surfing. Tumbling swirling crying and cuming, her juices are running down his arms, until all is sensation and all sensation is Pleasure. I am cooing in her ears, “i love you, i love you, i love you, iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou…”

Pleasure and sensation and love and surrender. We rest, spooning in a blanket. No words. No tears. Sweetness only.

And Pleasure, which begins of course, with please.