Page 21 of Ezekiel
“I was interested in some of the more hardcore impact items, particularly a whip. I had seen a man use a single-tail whip on a woman where the flicks ran down her back like little stinging raindrops, barely leaving a red mark, let alone something more serious. It was beautiful, and I wanted to know more. That man had been visiting from out of town, so I looked into learning from someone else.” I took a deep breath, steeling myself against the rising anxiety inside of me. I hated telling this story.
“But instead of doing it the right way, instead of asking around to make sure the guy was reputable, I just trusted the guy. One of my own personal rules is that I do not use any impact toy on a submissive that I haven’t felt myself. I test them all out. Well, that was the plan. He was going to show me how it felt, and then teach me to properly wield it. Well, to make a long story short, he was not the person he said he was. He insisted on restraining my hands, which should have been a red flag, but I went along with it. Then he began whipping me, but it was not those light, feathery licks of the whip. It was an all out lash. Six times he lashed me, all the while I was screaming safewords, begging him to stop.” My breathing was growing choppy. I could see the picture in my mind of that night. I could feel the searing pain of the whip as it split my skin, flaying it open.
Her hand reached out to mine, taking it, and those soothing little swirls began again. My eyes found hers, offering her a smile of gratitude, which she returned. It gave me hope, and it calmed me, at least some. But the story was not over.
“He only got six lashes in before the dungeon monitors came in and stopped the scene from continuing. But the damage had been done. The lashes were hard, leaving angry red welts, and in one particular spot, he had split my skin wide open and blood ran down my body. I was injured and humiliated. But I had learned an invaluable lesson.”
“He hurt you badly enough to bleed?” she barely whispered.
“Not just bleed, it required stitches. And it left a scar.” My face twisted in the combined humiliation and regret.
“May I see it?” she asked with trepidation. I squeezed her hand, offering her a small smile.
“You may.” I stood from the bed, taking a deep and cleansing breath before removing my shirt and turning to face the wall.
“Goodness,” she whispered in awe. I heard her stand from the bed. I felt her move towards me and I braced myself for her touch that I knew was coming. Sure enough, I felt her soft hand on my back, right in the center. “It’s stunning.”
There was no pity in her voice, only awe. I had gotten the near full back tattoo last year. I knew it was a killer piece of artwork, yet hearing her admiration of it filled me with pride. Not something I felt often regarding my scar or the story behind it.
Her hand moved over my back, following the lines of the artwork until she bumped over the scar, hidden by the tattoo.
“Oh,” she murmured. Still, I heard no pity, only a tinge of sadness. I couldn’t be mad at that. I felt the same sadness over it.
“What kind of bird is this?” she asked, her fingers trailing over the lines and feathers.
“It’s a phoenix. It signifies rising from the ashes, to be reborn again,” I explained softly, my voice choked with emotion.
“It’s perfect, then. So much bigger than I thought when I saw it. I only saw this sliver down here earlier,” she explained, touching a feather that ran near the small of my back.
“Thank you,” I whispered back. I put my shirt back on, needing to distance myself from this conversation emotionally, at least for a moment. It was a little too raw, a little too real.
“So what happened to him? The man that did that to you?” she asked, sitting back down on the bed. There was a relaxed nature about her now, the earlier tension having released some of its pressure.
“They threw him out of the dungeon, banned him for life,” I explained, joining her there on the bed.
“Did you contact the police?” she asked, her brow furrowed with concern. I found myself wanting to kiss away that worry, to offer her some peace.
“And say what? I let this man whip me, but he went too hard? It doesn’t quite work like that. But I’ve not seen him again, and I’m not worried about it. Like I said, I learned a very important lesson that night about having proper safety in kink. I needed to make sure he was safe and trustworthy, and I failed to do so. A failure I have not, and will not ever repeat.” She nodded her head in understanding, but I could see the questions swirling behind those pretty blue eyes. “Ask.” I stated with a grin.
“Ask what?”
“Ask whatever questions are burning behind those pretty eyes of yours,” I teased.
“I suppose I do have a question,” she said hesitantly.
“Ask,” I reiterated.
“You mentioned something about screaming safewords. What is that?” I was honestly glad she had asked that particular question.
“It is a word that is used in the kink community. Most use a traffic light system. Green means all is well. Yellow means pause and let’s talk. Red means stop everything. The scene ends. Make sense?” I explained.
“It does. I still don’t understand how we went from you sleeping in the spare room last night to what we just did down in the study. And how does kink play into all of this?” she asked, looking down at her hands, which were fidgeting in her lap nervously.
“Last night, I was simply overwhelmed,” I reiterated my earlier statement.
“But, was it me? In addition to being overwhelmed, did you just not want… me?” Her eyes refused to meet mine, and I felt for her.
“That could not be further from the truth, Talia. You are a beautiful woman. A beautiful woman I do not yet know. Pushing more forced proximity, let alone anything sexual on you last night, felt as wrong as what happened in that room. As for how we went from that to having sex on the desk downstairs,” I started with a chuckle. “Well, that was pure desire. You pushed me. You pushed my buttons. And I couldn’t help myself. I needed to taste your lips. And once I got a taste, I wanted more.” My voice was low and dark as I spoke.
