The Whip

I hate asking.   But I need it so badly the need finally drives the words out of me.  

"Master, will you hit me?"

The words are so tiny he doesn't hear them.  

"What is it, slave?"

 "Master, will you hit me?"
 
 "Speak up!"

 "Master, will you hit me? Please?"

He already has his whip on the couch next to him, a 3 foot single tail, and has already whipped my butt several times over the course of the evening, beginning when Mystique was here. 

We have been cuddling on the couch watching TV as his hands roam over my body, teasing and pinching sensitive bits.  I am naked.

He tells me to lie on my back and he runs the whip over me in a light, sensual manner:  flick, flick, flick, flick.   It gets harder, leaving streaks on my thighs, stomach and breasts.  Flick, flick, flick.   I try to close my legs, but he keeps my knees apart, then a sharp snap on my pussy makes me yelp out loud.  He is satisfied now and has me scoot back over to cuddle against him.  

A while later he tells me to stand in front of him and he gives my back and ass a hard work over with the whip.  It hurts, it makes me feel on fire. I have to mentally remind myself to hold back from cumming.  I feel drips running down my leg anyway.   A few more hard snaps and he grabs me and pulls me down into his lap, telling me to cum as I land there.  

It is ecstasy.