She was so delicious. She didn’t fight him or protest. She straightened her knees, wincing a little as her back hit the bark, thrusting her breasts forward for him. He picked up the switch. She would see this coming. Each stroke he put into it. He knew the places that would really injure her, and he was always cognizant of how hard he struck her. But the beast was screaming for pain. For action. For retribution.
He slashed a stripe across the front of her thighs. Her mouth opened in a silent scream. The oils in her pussy and ass had to be building a fiery desire when she clenched in preparation for his strikes. He was faster, delivering several more up her legs to her mound, that pretty little bare mound that belonged to him and was so sensitive. He was good. He was an artist. He could write his name if he wanted, but he had another goal in mind.
He stepped up to her, his fingers trailing up her thigh to find her heat. The oil had spilled out of her along with her spicy honey. “You’re so hot for me. You like this, don’t you? You’re just waiting for my cock.” Bog, he loved to hear her say it for him.
He let her ride his fingers frantically, her moans growing louder, and then abruptly he stepped back and began to tap her needy little pussy with the switch while he sucked on his fingers, watching her expression grow more and more desperate. He increased the power behind the swing of the switch, all the while staring into her eyes. He knew exactly where his target was, and he hit it every single time. He watched as pain and pleasure rushed through her. She tried to resist, coming to her toes, but she didn’t move her legs, didn’t try to pull them together, and she didn’t stop him by giving him her safe word. Then she was actually moving her body into the switch, meeting the stroke as he increased the power just a little more.
Seychelle cried out, a loud, sobbing cry of shock, as her body exploded with a powerful orgasm. Immediately, he gave her two more swift, hard taps, and then he slashed his way up her body to her breasts. He put more power into the next few stripes. To those beautiful rounded curves. Under them. Over them. The sides. One straight across those inflamed nipples for him. For the monster in him. For his hungry, dirty cock that waited so impatiently for its prize.
Her eyes went wide in shock, and her mouth opened, but no sound emerged. Tears poured down her face, but her body was still orgasming, wave after wave. Savage stepped close again, giving her his fingers, rubbing her clit with his thumb where the oil, the switch and the thundering blood were making her nearly convulse with one powerful orgasm after another.
The master. He was that. He had learned almost before he was a teen and perfected the art by the time he was twenty. His hands moved up and down her body, stroking those dark streaks, and then he stepped back and walked around the tree to untie her hands.
“We’re not finished, baby. Turn around and put your arms around the tree again.” He waited for her to comply. She was shaky, and he wrapped an arm around her waist and slid the switch between her legs as he guided her around so she would face the trunk this time. “Hug the tree, baby. Close. Put your upper body tight against it and push your ass out toward me. Just like you saw in that porn flick. I’m going to give you a spanking, Seychelle, and then you’ll get my cock, just like I promised, unless you want to stop. Do you want to use your safe word? Are you finished?”
She was riding the switch. Pushing her perfect cheeks back at him. Sobbing for him. Begging him, but so softly he could barely hear her.
“Seychelle?” He pulled his hand and the switch away. “Answer me, baby. I need to know if you want this.”
“Yes.” She hissed it at him. “I need you to give me your cock.”
Savage knew she was giving him what he needed. She was his partner. She gave him permission every fucking time to let his sadistic monster rule. He pulled the switch back, the rush of power on him. That feeling of domination. He was riding high.
He could flay the flesh off a man with one stroke, and he was careful not to do more than leave a nice long red lash across her thigh, just above her knees, that first perfect opening of his artistry on her backside. His heart jerked hard in his chest. It was gorgeous. He laid three more going up toward her ass.