A Matter Of Tastes

She looked over her shoulder, straining to see her own back in mirror. “Are there any marks? Any redness left at all?”

“No, Mistress.”

She turned her head away from the reflection, was silent for a time. The air was cool against her bare skin, replacing the vague warmth that had itself replaced the sharp sting. Eventually she reached around to slowly zip up the dress.

“May I ask…”

“What, Sophie?”

“Why do you let him whip you like that? Even though he leaves no marks? Why do—”

“I don’t let him do it, Sophie; I make him do it.”

17 comments:

  1. Naughty! Maybe a mark or 2 would please her? Lol!

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  2. perhaps, she is punishing herself in some way? interesting take..

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  3. Interesting! What kind of whip would work like that?

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    1. Oh, I'm assuming one of those smaller 'recreational' ones, in the hands of someone who knows what they're doing...

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  4. Some girls be cray, far away you should stay

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  5. Oh my, love the naughtiness here ....

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  6. I was piting her and then in the end it was her turn to pity me. Lovely read

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