Page 118 of Filthy Dirty Dom

"Turn around," he commanded. “Arms and legs spread.”

Without a word, Leslie pivoted to face the cool stone wall, her breath hitching slightly as she awaited his next instruction. She stayed obediently spread-eagle, her fingers brushing against the rough surface.

Alex admired her from behind, the silhouette of her body imprinted against the ancient stone wall. He grasped the flogger more firmly, the leather strips weaving through his fingers. With a calculated slowness, he began to glide the tassels across her skin, teasing every inch of her back, her thighs, her buttocks. A soft sigh escaped her lips, her body trembling under the delicate caress of the leather.

His heart raced, the rhythm matching the anticipatory drumming in his veins. He lifted the flogger, holding it aloft for a moment that stretched out in a delicious suspense. Then, without warning, he brought it down against her pert ass.

Leslie whimpered and pushed her ass out.

As a reward, Alex brought the flogger down a little harder. Her body jolted forward slightly with the force of the strike.

"Are you okay?"

Over her shoulder, she looked at him, her eyes half-closed and glazed with lust.. A tantalizing smile curved her lips, her chest heaving as she panted softly. "Never better."

His heart roared in response, a thrilling exhilaration seizing him as he realized the depth of the connection they were cultivating. He used the flogger over her skin again just before Leslie said, “Please hit me harder. Sir.”

Leslie was awash in sensation.

Pain blossomed across her skin as the flogger bit into her flesh, a quick, sharp sensation that lit her nerves on fire. But it wasn't just pain—it was pleasure too, a strange, twisted, beautiful kind of pleasure that made her pulse quicken and her body respond in ways she'd never experienced. An exquisite heat spread through her, settling in her lower belly, leaving her wet and wanting.

With each crack of the flogger, her arousal spiked, each sting of the leather against her skin awakening a fervor she hadn’t known she was capable of feeling. Alex's expertise was evident, his control over the instrument immaculate as he alternated between gentle teasing and sharp bites of the flogger.

Every time the flogger swept across her body, a gasp would catch in her throat. She found herself holding her breath, the anticipation a heady drug that she couldn’t get enough of. Each gentle kiss of leather against her heated skin, each harsh bite, pushed her desire to new heights.

And then there was his touch, the rough pads of his fingers tracing her reddened skin, the intimate caresses that followed the sharp kiss of the flogger. He would skim his hands over her curves, palms pressing against the places he'd just colored pink, a mix of gentleness and ownership that had her moaning his name.

It was a wild journey, one that had her senses spiraling, body humming with an electricity she’d never felt before. She didn't know how long it lasted, lost as she was in the rhythm of sensation, her world narrowed down to the feel of the flogger, the brush of Alex's fingers, and the throbbing heat between her thighs. The lines blurred, pain and pleasure, dominance and submission, until she was floating, anchored only by Alex's voice and the feel of his touch.

“Go to the bed.”

Under Alex's guiding hand, Leslie moved, her legs trembling slightly. She laid herself down, face up, her body presented for him in a position of total submission.

The predatory hunger in his gaze sent shivers down her spine. The flogger returned to her skin, this time targeting her thighs, each thwack a new burst of sensation that she absorbed, transformed, and repurposed into a well of desire pooling in her core.

His touch returned intermittently, a balm and a tormentor, soothing the sting of the flogger and yet stirring up a new ache of longing within her.

The waves of pleasure-pain grew in intensity, a crescendo that threatened to consume her. She found herself begging, the words spilling from her lips in heated whispers. "Alex, please..." she gasped, the plea barely more than a whimper, her body aching for release.

"You’re not done yet," he said, the word a cool salve on her fevered skin. It was a command that frustrated her, yet thrilled her. This was about more than just release—it was about surrendering control, submitting to the rhythm of sensation he was setting.

And so, Leslie surrendered, giving herself over to the delicious torment. Every crack of the flogger, every gentle touch, took her further into a world of sensation she had never imagined. He was drawing it out, pushing her boundaries, extending her pleasure to a level she hadn't thought possible.

And as Leslie floated on the waves of sensation, she realized that she was not just being controlled—she was in control, too. Control over her reactions, her surrender, her acceptance of the pleasure-pain that Alex was offering. It was a revelation, a realization of her own power within her submission.

Every whimper, every twitch of her body, every pulse of pleasure was a statement of trust, of acceptance. And with every second that ticked by, she felt herself falling deeper into the rhythm that Alex was setting, willingly surrendering to the control he was exerting. It was an intoxicating dance, one that Leslie never wanted to stop, lost as she was in the pleasure of being controlled, and the power of controlling her own surrender.

The sudden crack of the flogger against the tender flesh of Leslie's inner thigh almost made her come. But then Alex set the flogger down on the nightstand. She almost protested, but instead watched him through half-closed eyes.

Alex took his time undressing, each piece of clothing shed revealing more of his body to her eager gaze. There was a predatory grace in his movements, like a panther shedding its disguise, revealing the powerful predator beneath. Then he was on her, his body covering hers in a sudden, breathtaking move that startled her, causing her to whimper. One of his hands found its way to her throat, applying a pressure that was neither harmful nor too gentle, just enough to send her body into overdrive, shooting waves of pleasure coursing through her.

His other hand found its way between her legs, his fingers parting her. Her hips arched upwards towards him.

And then he was entering her, his thick length filling her in a slow, exquisite slide that had her biting her lip to stifle a moan. It was like the first time, yet entirely different—a familiarity that grounded her, a novelty that thrilled her. The sensation of his cock inside her, stretching her, completing her, was something she didn't think she could ever tire of. He fit perfectly within her, their bodies molded to each other as if they were made for this singular act of intimacy.

His movements started slow, the gentle glide of his body into hers, the rhythmic dance of their bodies as he began to thrust. His hand remained at her throat, a constant reminder of his presence, his control. Each thrust was a testament of his power, of the raw physicality that was Alex.

She lost herself in it, in the rhythm of their bodies moving together, in the heat of their shared passion. She surrendered to it, surrendered to him, to the feelings he stirred within her, the lust, the desire.

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