TamingTara

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Tara slid the wrist loop of the flogger over her hand and rolled the top ball of the handle in her palm, fingers loose. Biting her lip, she swung the tails in a smooth figure eight, alternating dragging them over the skin of Adam’s bare buttocks, changing to a circle, then snapping her wrist and giving him a stinging slap. This was a little different than practicing on a pillow. Restrained, helpless—he was at her mercy. Her teeth sank deeper into her bottom lip. Was she doing it right?

She’d been practicing. She flicked her wrist carefully, giving just the right amount of force to the stroke.

He cried out.

She did it again. And again.

The glass block wall behind the two men glimmered with reflected light from the candles arranged in a row on the floor. Dim lighting and black carpet kept the mood in the small play room dark, mysterious, edgy…

She turned to the man beside Adam on the spanking bench and laid another fall across bare flesh. She watched the warm flush creeping from rounded buttocks down to his thighs. Yes. His thighs. She flicked the flogger tails there too. She had to remember to vary the places she struck. Too many in one place could be bad.

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