Three Strikes (Desire Island 3)

But, instead of dipping his head and taking her in his arms, he took an abrupt step back, breaking the mood. “Not that you’ll need it, but just in case, we’ll use the island safeword.”

The island safeword of red light made sense in a resort environment where people didn’t know each other all that well. But still, his words hit her like a bucket of cold water. He hadn’t even given her the option of using her own safeword, which was scorpion.

A yoga teacher before she’d accepted a position on Desire Island as a staff slave and positions trainer, Abbie had taught the challenging scorpion pose to her more advanced students. It offered a great opportunity to work on balance, concentration and openness to vulnerability—all skills essential to erotic submission as well. By choosing the generic, impersonal island safeword, was he sending her a not so subtle message?

Stop that, she admonished herself. You won’t be using your safeword anyway. This is your chance to show him you’re worthy. It’s up to you now. You got this.

“Yes, Sir,” she agreed.

“Face the cross, arms extended,” he directed.

Abbie turned from him, lifting her arms along the X of the cross. His bare torso touched her back as he cuffed her wrists into place. She loved the snug, confining feel of the leather cuffs. She relaxed as he bound her against the cross, her serenity returning. Closing her eyes, she leaned into the smooth, cool wood, her skin tingling in anticipation of the flogging to come.

“Do you have something to put up your hair with?” he asked from behind her.

“Yes, Sir. There’s a clip there on the bureau.”

He stepped away from her, returning a moment later, clip in hand. He twisted her hair up into a coil on top of her head and closed the large plastic tines of the clip over it to hold it in place. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose as she imagined him leaning down to brush his lips over her skin.

But that didn’t happen. Instead, he took a step back and snapped the tresses of the large flogger experimentally in the air behind her.

She sighed with pleasure as the thick, soft suede snapped against her back and ass. She loved the susurrous swish of leather against flesh.

He was quiet as he worked, focused and intense. She settled into herself as he flogged every inch of her flesh from shoulder to calf until her skin glowed with heat. He whipped away the last of her skittering nerves with a steady, erotically painful, perfect stroke.

“How’re you doing?” he eventually asked. “You good?” He lowered the flogger to stroke her hot, stinging skin with his hand.

“Yes, Sir,” she said throatily, thrilling to the touch of his hand on her body.

He appeared in front of her, eyes hooded, dominant power radiating from him like a forcefield. “Ready for more? I’ll let you down so you can face me to receive the second half of your flogging.”

“Yes, please, Sir.”

He uncuffed her ankles first and then reached for her wrists, his body again touching hers as he did so. Was it her imagination, or was there a bulge pressing against her lower back?

As she turned around and leaned back against the cross, her eyes flickered involuntarily to his groin. There was indeed a large, sexy bulge outlined against the soft leather of his pants. An electric thrill surged through her. Was it possible he was as turned on as she was? Was tonight the night when everything changed between them?

Once he re-cuffed her into place, he brushed the flogger’s suede tresses over her breasts and stomach. Its stroke again calmed and focused her. Then, all at once, he snapped back his wrist and let the stinging tips of leather remind her of the flogger’s true potential. A flurry of flicking bee stings spattered over her breasts, especially painful against her engorged, sensitized nipples. She panted as she tried to absorb and embrace the pain.

“Ah,” she cried, the word wrenched from her when he snapped the tresses up sharply between her legs.”

“You need this, don’t you?” he said softly, his eyes focused intently on her face, his expression both fierce and tender. “You need the erotic pain. You need to suffer for your Master.”

“Yes,” she breathed, his words and the power in his gaze refocusing her. “Yes, please, Sir.”

He struck her again, even harder than before.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh,” she chanted as she struggled to handle the stinging onslaught.

It hurt, make no mistake. But he was right. She needed this with every fiber of her being.

His burning eyes fixed on hers, keeping her grounded as he relentlessly flogged her stinging cunt. She trembled, sweat sprouting under her arms as she gasped and moaned. Even while her body struggled to take what he gave her, her mind reeled with excitement.