Her Submission (The Crop)

She was still shaking, the pain singing through her body from the points of contact on her now very tender nipples.

Beads of sweat formed and glistened across her frame.

As the singing began to subside it was replaced with a throbbing at the focal points on the tips of her breasts and it echoed out across her body.

Between her legs, warmth and moisture, arousal lingering.

His voice came. In calm, controlled and silky smooth tones, he whispered.

“On all fours.”.

Immediately she obeyed and with the movement the weighted chain swang and the singing returned, screaming from her swollen nipples to her core and out to every nerve in her body to the surface of her skin.

She moved quickly both out of obedience and to end the motion and await the return of the stationary pulsating.

Naked, on all fours and feeling very exposed she could hear him move behind her.

Slightly unsteady in her pose and still shaking she felt the softness of leather attached to the stiff flex of a crop.

She knew instantly what it was.

They had discussed it and she had seen it and examined it. She knew too well its beauty and exquisite craftsmanship.

A practical tool and a work of art.

This was for use on a magnificent beast as it raced furlongs in anger. It wasn’t some cheap sex toy from a store.

She felt its rigid softness stroke along the inside of her thighs. Slowly and deliberately he caressed her with it. Up and then down on each side.

He then made two quick taps and added a little pressure.

To her own surprise, she knew it was a silent instruction and she obliged.

Moving her knees farther apart and widening her legs, exposing and revealing herself further.

Then the tip stroked lovingly down the centre of her back until it reached the curve at the base and again came a pressure.

Her mind and body followed and she dipped her midriff which caused her rear to lift further increasing his view and access and her vulnerability.

She couldn’t help but wonder at his arousal as he had her where he wanted her. Poised for this next element of her submission. She craved it despite the fear and anticipation, in fact, that was a big part of her arousal, the not knowing. She wondered if as he stood and looked down at her, as she willingly offered her most intimate parts to him, if he too felt an aching hunger and if his loins had begun to engorge with desire.

The first strike was fairly light. An introductory sting to the flesh of her right buttock.

Her pussy flinched in harmony and she felt the well of desire rise and a smirk spread across her face as a voice inside her spoke “”Is that it? Is that all you’ve got?””.

The second strike had more meaning as it hit the more delicate area of her inside thigh. The smirk was wiped away but a fire now burned behind her eyes as a voice inside her said “Again.”

Again came, in exactly the same spot. The burning pain reignited as her skin turned red at the point of impact.

She let out a gasp and her entire body moved causing the clamps to violently shift and again the torturous melody on her breasts.

A fourth hit. On her left buttock. Gentle and tantalizing. Shocked that she felt robbed of that delicious agony. But she didn’t realise that she hadn’t yet felt agony nor how delicious it was.

The crop’s soft folded leather slowly floated across her ass, over its tight pink hole and then delicately along the length and contours of her pussy.

The tease was excruciating.

She almost buckled and collapsed to the floor. Her body and her mind failed her as the intensity of raging heat exploded from her pussy out into her body and the singing from her bosom started a chorus.

The impact was so intense on her most fragile and personal physical part, it caused a volcano of molten lava to erupt into her veins and nervous system. The choir from the clamps was present but now almost background music.

Light flashed before her eyes as her tender ripe fruit received a second blow.

She feared that her very self might be melted away in the chaotic symphony and cacophony of this agonising concerto.

There were no beads of sweat now, they were small rivers and pools. Collecting as she fought to hold position, her entire body vibrating.

Darkness replaced the light in a moments pause. It was a welcome, peaceful darkness, enveloping and protecting her.

But no sooner had she taken in its comfort than the voice inside her head came again.

As the arousal from her tender, tormented pussy filled her with defiant rage and sexual energy in a volatile concoction, it simply said “More.”.

She may even have said it out loud, she wasn’t sure.

The blinding light returned like lightning entering through her eyes as the next stroke made its blow.

Her complete experience of existence was overloaded and destroyed, a new reality was born and the only thought that entered her head came from that voice.

Subdued and broken, it whimpered “Non omnis moriar.”

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/wi6u6u/her_submission_the_crop