Page 42 of Master My Love

“True enough,” he said, patting then squeezing her hip. Once again, he addressed the class. “My wife is a bit of a sadist and gets a kick out of tormenting newbies, hence this rule. Some run out the door and never return, to the detriment of our dom/sub ratio. We had hoped she could learn from Master Thomas’ example during BDSM 101. Master Eric recommended she repeat the entire education series as a refresher and act as a demo volunteer, which I fully support. Along with a fitting punishment, of course.”

He moved to the table, his footsteps echoing softly on the hardwood floor. He perused the array of implements with a discerning eye. Picking up a leather paddle, he swung it experimentally, appearing to relish the sound it made as it sliced through the air. Next, he reached for a flogger and ran the leather tails through his fingers. He picked up a cane and flicked it; the swishing sound sending a shiver through Val. He repeated this process with several other tools, each one unique in its own way.

“As a long-time submissive, my lovely bride has experienced all the implements I’ll use today,” he explained. “To make it more challenging for her, she will need to identify each tool, describe the sensation, and rate the severity—while blindfolded. The last bit is my little twist on the game. Julianna,” he called, his voice soft yet commanding.

The sub stepped up to the cross and slipped a blindfold over her mistress’ eyes.

The previously chatty students watched the scene in transfixed silence, the vast play space so quiet a pin drop would sound like a cannon shot. Several jumped as Master Samson’s boot heels rang out as he approached the cross with the first punishment tool—a flogger.

“If it gets too intense, my love. What do you say?”

“Red. My safeword, master.”

“Exactly. Now we can begin.”

He flicked his wrist, sending the lash with at least 50 one-inch leather strips snapping against her ass cheeks. Throughout the strokes that followed, she didn’t utter a sound, until number twelve fell with a loudthwackthen a long, throaty moan rose from Tara.

“Name it,” Samson ordered softly.

“A flogger, sir. The Elk, I believe.”

“Good. Number?”

“Five.”

“Five on a scale of one to ten indicates moderate severity,” he explained as he worked the elk hide ribbons from her shoulders to her thighs. Where the flogger landed, her skin took on a rosy blush in contrast to the creamy white of the rest of her body. “Can you describe the sensation, Tara?”

“It a lovely thud, sir. Like a firm caress, with only a hint of sting.”

“Hmm... It’s not much of a punishment then, is it, my dear?” he announced, and the flogging stopped. “We’ll have to try something else.”

Her groan of disappointment echoed through the large, near-empty room, as did her dom’s answering chuckle. Samson next approached her with a long black paddle. Standing off to the side, his arm swung in a wide arc.

“Ahh, fuck!” Tara shouted when the paddle landed with a loud splat.

“None of that,” Samson scolded as he delivered another stroke. “Remember your manners in front of company. Do you know what this is?”

“The rubber paddle.”

“Very good, and your number?”

“Eight,” she cried, only to change her mind and yell, “Eight and a half!” after another louder splat.

“Now we’re getting somewhere. About six of these should do. Describe how it feels to the class while I finish here.”

“It stings like a son-of-a-bitch.”

“Tara Louise!” Master Samson barked.

“Sorry, sir.”

After the rubber paddle, he moved on to a leather strap. Tara took a dozen strokes without a single complaint or curse and rated it at seven. As a reward, he followed it up with “Bunny Bleu” a royal-blue furry flogger, which she said was a two, describing the sensation as soothing against her red, inflamed ass that was “on fucking fire.”

Shaking his head at her language, he stopped again and exchanged the fur flogger for a device Val hadn’t seen before. It had a black handle with three loops, approximately eighteen inches long. When the master applied a series of quick, firm strokes, it made barely a sound, only a slight swish through the air before striking the skin.

“Nuance was never her strong suit.”

The husky baritone in her ear made Val jump. She turned to see Eric standing behind her. He winked before directing her attention to the scene on the cross.

---