"Ouch!" Esme shrieked, contorting in hopes of avoiding the next bite of a whip. Nimble limbs were wrapped in jute, palms tied together and resting on the top of her head. She was left to stand on one foot, the other bound at the ankle to her knee. Her body was bound by multiple pieces, all interconnected and rigged to an exposed beam in Mallory's basement.

Sweat blanketed every inch of skin, glistening in the dimly lit room. The position alone caused the majority of the perspiration, amongst the two cramps Esme had already encountered in her legs. The whipping aspect of the play caused the rest, and if blonde tresses weren't already pulled into a knot, they'd be sticking to her back much like the fine, vellus hairs on her already were.

A snickered came from the opposite end of the whip. "Poor dear," Mallory mused, "You know what to say if you'd like this to stop."

The whip snapped against the blonde's hip, pulling a shrill cry from parched lips. Dreadful was an exaggeration—it was similar to snapping a rubber band, except it had a tad more sting to it. Esme was sure it could give more than that, certain that being whipped wasn't half as tender as this was. Mallory was going easy on her, and for some odd reason, she was furious about it.

Recently, that was how their play had been, with Mallory treating her like a slate of glass. It was beyond frustrating. The sadistic woman was infuriatingly gentle, trading nipping teeth with soothing licks and impacting swats for meaningful caresses. Their play was becoming less about discipline and more about sensation, an extraordinary sense of intimacy.

While it was appreciated that the brunette was favoring a more benevolent approach, it was confounding the young woman. Esme had signed up for a certain position with explicit expectations of what that entailed. The gentleness was confusing her, twisting their rules in her head, and knotting them up the same way her emotions were. Affection was brewing in her stomach, directed to the woman who was constantly dominated her. It worried the blonde, especially regarding what it could transpire into.

No response from Esme resulted in another two strikes, both to her planted foot. It caused her to stumble, balance lost as she hopped to regain some type of stance. She growled, trying to face the woman responsible but unable to position herself in the right spot. Intuition told her that Mallory was behind her, having heard the subtle click of heels against the concrete floor until they were removed.

"Oh! Someone didn't enjoy that."

"Please," Esme retorted, still shimmying to find a comfortable stance. "Spare me the taunting."

Another crack to her foot left Esme to hop and struggle once again.

"You're getting very brave as of late. I'd remember to whom you are speaking to before I decide to be a little less gentle."

Despite not being able to see it, Esme knew the woman was grinning like the cat that got the canary. The smug smirk was palpable in her tone, and as intoxicated as it could be, it further aggravated the young woman.

"Please do," she bit back, a scowl set on her face once she regained balance. She was poking the bear, daring the woman to crank up the heat, yet slightly unsure what the outcome would be.

Surprisingly, another hit did not come. The blonde stood, waiting for anything, but hearing nothing. Her head was quickly forced backwards, neck straining and hair trapped in a fist. Warm breath danced on her face, and she couldn't help but shiver in a mixture of anticipation and lust.

Soft lips grazed her ear. "Stay put."

Both hands grasped her hips and rotated her, forcing Esme to pivot. The room spun abruptly, pulling a squeal from the young woman. Getting her bearings, she watched as her deliciously nude dominant rifled through a grey tote labeled crafting supplies. It was filled with various toys, at least from what Esme could see, and it was a clever disguise.

But if there was one thing that Mallory Morgan was, it was clever. Her moves were calculated. Everything she did was thought out, carefully planned. Nothing happened that wasn't according to her expectations, and that terrified the woman.

The sadistic brunette turned abruptly, azure eyes sparkling with mirth. Taut muscles and stiff nipples greeted the blonde. Nude lips were curled into a smirk. Delicate hands were clenched on a long, thin rod resembling that of a switch. Trepidation slowly crept into Esme's stomach at the instrument, not entirely sure what it was or what power it possessed.

"Do you trust me?"

It was a loaded question, dangerous even, but it forced Esme to truly examine their situation. In their play, Mallory was attentive. She was incredible knowledgeable, and always willing to answer questions and explain. Assuaging the blonde's fears came easily for the older woman.

The young submissive nodded, eyes widening as the woman approached her. Somehow, bare skin glowed in the pale lighting. Blue eyes glistened, and bore into green.

"I need verbal confirmation, Miss Holland."

"Yes, Miss," the blonde whispered, not trusting her voice.

The tip of the piece was drug from her calf and up her side. She shook, trembling at the sensation that mimicked nails caressing flesh. Her pride and stubbornness was quenched, drowned like fire amidst water, leaving nothing but uncertainty and concern in its wake.

"Miss," Esme croaked, feeling the tip now grazing her shoulder blades. "What is that?"

"A cane, dear girl." The seductress licked her lips, devouring the woman's bare body with her gaze. "There are so many delicious uses for it."

Arousal seeped through Esme's body, lighting her nerves on fire. Her body begged to be touched, to be taken care of as it should be. The suggestive language Mallory used regularly did nothing but encourage raging hormones.

The tip traveled to the blonde's rear, prodding supple flesh before snapping against it, leaving a pale, pink line. Clenched teeth sucked in breath and toes curled. Esme jolted up, not expecting the new sensation and attempting to escape the sting of the cane. A second swat came down, hitting both cheeks and creating a matching mark.

The blonde hissed, shifting as best she could, "Fuck!"

It was different from the whip and Mallory's hand. The feeling was heavier yet precise. The sting was similar to the whip, but lacked the quick snap of it.

Mallory laughed, husky and strong like whiskey. "Do you regret your audacity?"

The cane came down again.

"God damn it!" Pale skin burned while more arousal coated the apex of slender thighs.

"That doesn't answer my question, my dear Esme."

A fourth hit resulted in an answer. "No!"

All noise stopped other than the sound of heaving breath. The solitary leg quivered under the pressure, threatening to give out or cramp. Blue eyes noticed, and strong hands grasped shaking hips. Limbs heavy, the blonde leaned against her dominant, taking some of the weight off of her foot. Her ass stung and her cunt throbbed. Despite the pain, she still desired to be touched, craved more contact than this.

"Will you please touch me," Esme cried, hips moving on their own accord.

"On a condition."

The words were breathy, barely audible and laced with sugar. It only fueled needy limbs.

"Anything, please."

"Why do you not regret your words?"

She answered with lowered inhibitions. "Because you were getting so soft!" Desperate words fell from hungry lips. "I won't break. Shit, I swear I won't break."

"I am fully aware that you will not break," Mallory hummed, one hand running up and down slick thighs. "My intention is not to use force upon our every encounter—it's not necessary. You, as much as anyone, require a varied hand, and today isn't about punishment. Today is about sensations: how long can I stimulate you until you beg for mercy or an orgasm—really whichever comes first, my dear."

Esme listened half heartedly, focused on nothing but the building tension in her stomach and the cool hand on burning skin. A hearty moan came from parted lips upon nimble fingers grazing her pubis.

"Please," she sighed, fingers twitching against their restraints.

Soft lips found purchase on the flesh underneath her ear, tasting and teasing salty skin. "I hear you, sweet girl. Your pretty cunt will be absolutely satiated by the time I'm finished with you."

A slew of curse words acted as a response. Soft fingers finally moved through slicker folds. The blonde cried out, hips grinding instinctively.

They continued to explore, caressing each fold and dragging desperate cries from parched lips. Mallory smirked against sweaty skin, licking the built up beads. Esme shifted, directing fingers to her pulsing clit and whimpering when two fingers pinched the bundle of nerves.

"Yes," the young submissive panted, now humping the hand of her dominant. "Fuck please, may I come, Miss?"

Pressure had built in her stomach. She felt like a bottle of coke after mentos had been tossed in—gaseous fizz had built up and was ready to explode, only to have a cap block the way. That cap was Mallory Morgan's permission.

If Esme came without permission, she wasn't sure what the consequences would be, but knew they wouldn't be pleasurable. She wouldn't be able to bare a punishment with no pleasure, especially with her body as worked up as it was.

"Go ahead," the brunette murmured, voice like velvet. "Come as many times as you'd like."

Green eyes rolled back. Hips gyrated, pulling an orgasm from deep within the blonde's stomach. Parched lips parted and stretched obscenely wide, guttural cries emerging. Fingers continued to move, drawing out the orgasm as long as possible as the body above them twitched with pleasure.

It wasn't long before the first orgasm subsided did another follow on its coattails. Esme was given another freely, body reacting in the same manner. Her throat was already dry, opposite of her lower half.

Arousal slick fingers pulled away from the pulsing nub, opting to explore. The blonde gasped, eyes shut tight as two fingers pressed inside of her. They curled deliciously, and she felt completely engulfed by the situation.

Her brain was still hazy with orgasm. Opalescent eyes were still blurred with stars. Her senses were on overdrive—smelling and feeling nothing but complete euphoria and Mallory.

Mallory, Mallory, Mallory.

"More." Hips rocked once again, fingers pressed against tight walls. "More, please."

It became a mantra, and was soon granted with another finger. Esme could feel lips against her neck, pulled into a smirk and torturing heated skin, fueling her arousal.

A third orgasm was pulled from the young woman, causing her to grind and cry without reserve. Before it could finish, a fourth charged through.

Sobs racked the worn body. The blonde's knee buckled, now hanging by the rope on her wrists. Drenched fingers slowly pulled away and ran up her quivering stomach, wiping arousal on already soaked skin. A soft kiss was placed on her shoulder blade, and soon enough, fingers began to unweave the bindings.

Once free, Esme collapsed to the floor. She worried not for the hard concrete bruising her knees, but welcomed it to cool her skin.

The brunette stood over her with a satisfied smirk on her lips. "Are you exhausted?"

Esme could only nod, still catching her breath.

"Good," Mallory chuckled, kneeling down and straddling the blonde. "Then you won't mind watching."

Warm velvet greeted Esme's stomach. She gasped, eyes trained on the woman above her as she drew a hand down to her dripping cunt. Fingers wasted no time moving in tight circles against a throbbing clit. If the young woman wasn't weary, she would have flipped them over and fucked the woman herself. Watching would have to do.

Mallory moaned obscene loud. Her thighs twitched against the blonde, fingers moving impossibly quick. Her free hand came up to pinch at her nipples, pushing herself another step closer to orgasm.

Esme inhaled deeply—she could smell the arousal wafting off the woman—and licked her lips.

"Yes," the brunette hissed, head lulling forward. Her hand quickly changed position, nails now digging into a pale chest for support as waves of pleasure drowned her.

Watching as the woman fell from her pleasure with rapt attention, Esme reached up and pulled her dominant down, crashing their lips together. The latter responded immediately, devouring the submissive's mouth with appreciation until she was satisfied.

She tasted of sweet wine, and Esme couldn't help but become drunken with the woman.

"You're so very good," Mallory purred, her breath intermingling with the blonde's.

"Thank you," she blushed, leaning up to steal another kiss, and granted with so much more.