The Double

He grabbed the bows at the sides of my panties in both hands and pulled. My panties fell away. I writhed and ground my hips, feeling his gaze like a touch as it ran over every secret fold. I knew he’d be able to see how wet I was.

He’d been silent for so long that when he spoke, it was a shock. “You’re just...so….” He shook his head. “I’ll never get tired of looking at you.”

I flushed, but then my chest contracted. It wasn’t me he was talking about. I’d stolen someone else’s face.

He reached down and touched my naked hip, then followed my leg all the way down to my ankle. His touch was almost reverent. “Since you got back, there’s something….” he pressed his lips together and shook his head in confusion. “ I don’t know what it is. But I can’t take my eyes off you. I want you all the time.”

A big, warm wave rose in my chest and broke through me.

He lifted one hand towards my breast...and then pulled it back and gripped the bedpost, knuckles white, denying himself. He got up and walked to the rack of implements. I arched my back off the bed and craned my neck but I couldn’t see what he was choosing...and I knew that he’d designed this room like that deliberately. What if it’s a whip? Or a cane? Something that’ll really hurt? Maybe Christina was into that. Or what if—

My stomach twisted. What if he knows? What if he’d just been toying with me, all this time, and now that he had me naked and bound, he was going to interrogate me?

He crossed back to the bed, one hand hidden behind his back, and—

As soon as I saw the lust in his eyes, I knew: he still thought I was Christina. The mission was still on. Everything’s fine.

Except...a shockingly strong part of me wanted to just stop all the deception. Not to drop the Christina act and tell him I was Hailey. To forget I was Hailey and just be Christina.

He brought his hand down and there was a musical hiss….

A second later, my body exploded into heat. Not pain, exactly, more like the aftershock of pain, when the adrenaline thumps through you and you catch your breath. Warmth radiated out across my stomach, turning to a twisting, darker heat as it sunk into my body and slid down to my groin. What was that?

It flashed down again, too fast to follow, and this time I was anticipating it. A flash of heat, like a pinch or a slap, but much subtler than either, crackling across my skin and leaving me panting and glowing. I stared at his hand and for the first time I got a look at it.

He gripped a carved wooden handle in his fist. Immediately above that, it became a thick bunch of soft, flat strands as long as my forearm. A flogger? Was that what it was called?

His eyes met mine and there was a wicked gleam in them. He glanced down at a particular spot on my body—

I followed his gaze and saw my naked breasts. Then it clicked. What? No! Not there!

But part of me burrowed my ass down into the covers and hissed, yes, there!

The flogger came down again and there was a flash, white-hot but so quick it didn’t register as pain, and then the heat and pleasure rumbled through me like thunder, leaving my breasts throbbing and sensitive, and my nipples straining and pebble-hard. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and it came out as a low, throaty groan.

He knew exactly how to use it. He could land the lashes just where he wanted them and he could twist and flick his wrist to come at me from different angles so I never knew what to expect. One second, heat was exploding across my inner thighs, melting up into my groin and making me moan and grind against the bed. The next, it would be a light touch on my breasts, the strands brushing over my nipples as gently as palm fronds, and I’d be clawing at the air with my hands, arching my back to get more, more!

He kept going until every inch of me was ablaze, until I was a straining, panting, thrashing mess...and then he dropped the flogger and climbed onto the bed…..

The first time his tongue bathed my nipple, I almost came. I hadn’t realized how super-sensitive the flogging had left me. Everything was throbbing and tingling with heat and suddenly the wetness of his tongue, swirling around the base of my nipple and then flicking over the top—I gave a short, hard yell of shock, the pleasure expanding and turning silver-edged and scarlet.

He went to work on me with his hands and his mouth and every touch of his fingers, every press of his lips, was magnified a thousand-fold. All I wanted to do was grab him and rub my body against him, press my breasts against his mouth and hump my groin towards his hands to show him where I needed it. But I couldn’t do any of that. The ribbons held me fast and all I could do was gasp and plead and arch my back and trust that he knew where to go next. And he did. He knew better than I knew myself, and he showed me sensitive spots I’d never discovered.