The only sound in the room at the moment was the sound of heavy, labored breathing from two people pushed close to their respective limits. He stood in front of her suspended form, gazing at the crossroads of slashes and welts that covered the front of her body. Her arms were stretched high above her head, her wrists manacled to the hook that was affixed to the beam overhead. Her feet were barely off the floor, but it was enough to allow her body to sway from the force of the last five blows. The way her head hung low between her shoulders, her blonde hair covering her face, he couldn’t see the tears. Sweat ran down her skin in rivulets, making it seem as if her flesh was smeared with pale red paint. But it wasn’t red paint. He could smell the metallic fragrance that simmered in the air. He walked up closely to her, watching her face as He did so. As if she were asleep, her eyes were closed, her face serene.

“Look at Me.” His tone left no doubt that he expected to be obeyed.

Her eyelids lifted slowly, as if weights had been attached to them as well and worked to hold them down. When her gaze met his, everything he needed to know could be found in the look on her face. He leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips.

“My precious one.” His words caused her to moan and the corners of her mouth lifted in a mere hint of a smile. She saw his piercing blue eyes flash with emotion as he looked into her deep sea-green gaze. She could hear the pride in his voice. All of it, all from him, it drove her spirit.

He stayed close as he moved behind her. Positioning himself against her back, he felt the heat of her skin against his bare chest, felt the sticky wetness attach itself to his flesh. He reached between her legs and felt a much different type of wetness, one that was slick and wild with her own special fragrance. She tried to press down against his hand, but the movements only succeeded to further frustrate her intent.

He smiled as He licked against one of the welts on her lovely back, tasting her sweat and blood mixed together in a potent cocktail. She hissed out in pain as he pressed even more closely against her tender skin. His fingers teased her impossibly wet slit, and felt her body begin to tremble as he played.

“What does my slut want?” His voice slid straight into her just as his finger did.

“Oh please, Sir…your slut…needs more.” Her words were barely a whisper but he heard each one. They sang to his soul.

He moved away from her, smiled as she whimpered from the loss of body contact with Him. Walking to the wall, he put the crop back in its proper place. His attention turned to the many floggers and whips he had arranged there. He stroked his hand over each one before choosing a favorite, a black leather lash whip. There were four braided lashes extending from the handle and from each end of those, even more lashes were to be seen. It was a wicked implement of torture. Even before He landed the first blow, he knew the damage that would be done. He had purposely not gagged her mouth. Tonight, he wanted her screams. He needed them. As did she.

So it began. She was too far gone to contain her shrieks and cries and pleas for help. He knew what she wanted, knew what they both craved. She had her safe word, but never uttered it, not even in the softest of thoughts. Blow after blow he landed on her body, feeding her soul. Her every scream was his heartbeat.

He lost count. Couldn’t tell from the cuts and welts on her body how many times the whip had landed. They were both covered in sweat and blood and the scent of exquisite pain. He never took his eyes off her, watching the whip cut into her flesh time and time again, watching the eerie sway of her body as it hung there for him. His whip lashed out, wrapping around her body, the tip slashing against the tender flesh of her breast. She didn’t scream. He looked at her form, knew she was breathing, but lost some of his mind in the time it took to reach her.

If I hurt her, if I took it too far… He couldn’t bear to finish even the thought.

He dropped the whip and hugged one arm around her body, lifting her some and relieving the weight on her arms. Her hair was down around her face and her eyes were closed. Almost frantic, He put his hand under her chin, carefully trying to lift her face so he could see something, anything. As He pleaded with her to open her eyes, he tilted her head and her hair fell back away from her face. What he saw took the very breath he was breathing.

As he saw the smile curving up the corners of her beautiful mouth, he heard her whisper the most beautiful word that had ever landed on his ears.

“More.”