Unfurling the Rose and The Caning are my two most popular BDSM short stories
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I feel more than hear the swish of the strop as he swings it down towards the cheeks of my behind. There is a crack. I love the moments after the strike, the microseconds that it takes my body to transmit the stinging sensation from the buttocks to the brain. It has barely arrived before there is a second impact and then a third. The pain begins to blossom like an unfurling rose spreading between my legs.
The strop swishes again catching the soft tops of my thighs causing a sharp sensation that sends endorphins flooding through my body. He stops, his fingers push my petals apart and brush against the sensitive skin as they move up to the swollen bud. That touch that always excites me is now electric. I gasp as my knees buckle, almost unable to stand with the sensations.
His fingers drop away and I feel the leather of the strop brush against my skin. I no longer know which sensation I desire more. He pushes my knees apart, spreading my legs.
I feel the soft strands of a leather flail tickling my skin like a herd of tiny creatures. He flicks the strands and they smack against my open flower. I moan, short, staccato gasps until one of the tips finds my bud forcing me to cry out in pleasure. It flicks again and a climax sweeps through me as I collapse forward onto the chair.
The strop smacks across my buttocks again urging me on and I rise up onto my knees and eagerly spread my legs.
The Donnington Chronicles is a BDSM romp with a twist set in the 1980s.
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