I gripped the cool metal bar in anticipation as he brushed the long leather strands against my back. "If you let go of that bar," He growled in my ear, "the count is going to start over. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir." I replied, breathless with anticipation. The leather teased my skin and I felt a rush of heat flow through me as the memory of past scenes brought tingles to my exposed flesh as my exposed nipples tightened in response. I was nude except for the scrap of lace that could barely consider itself a thong, its thin straps arcing over my hips in a dark purple slash until it disappeared into the crevasse between my butt cheeks, only to emerge again at the apex of my thighs in a small triangle of smooth satin before transitioning back to lace and meeting once again over my hips.
"Good." He praised as the movement of leather across my flesh became more deliberate. The first hit was soft, gently kissing my skin as I confidently said "One." in response. The second, third, and fourth were just as soft as I dutifully counted them out. The fifth was a harder smack across the middle of my back and I couldn't help but moan out my "Five." as the sting morphed into delicious heat. The next four were back to the soft strokes of before, but already I could feel myself growing wet and my breaths shortening. "Ten." was another crack against the middle of my back, the fall of the leather wrapping around the opposite side of five and stinging the edges of my stomach.
"How are you doing, darlin'?" He asked, checking in with me as he ran his hand up my spine.
Eyes closed and my head lolling back, I smiled. "More, please."
Chuckling, he gripped the back of my neck with a strong hand before planting a soft kiss at the nape, goosebumps from the heat of him shivering across my skin. "Always so polite. Keep counting out loud for me."
Eleven and twelve were drawn down against my shoulder blades, the alternating strokes quickly followed by thirteen and fourteen. Fifteen was an upward swing against my left butt cheek that left a trail of fire blazing across my skin. And still I counted. Sixteen through twenty followed the same pattern, except this time the last stroke was on my right butt cheek. "You mark so beautifully, my darlin'. I am painting such a pretty picture on your skin." His finger traced the red lines of raised flesh as the sensitive skin trembled beneath his touch.
Twenty-one was a stinging hit from my left hip to my cleft, the dampness between my thighs almost becoming uncomfortable. Twenty-two matched the previous blow and by now it was an effort to keep my hands on the metal bar. It was warm beneath my flesh and grew slippery as the sweat from my palms coated it. But still I hung on. Twenty-three and twenty-four quickly became a flurry of blows that I almost lost track of until it stopped on "Thirty!"
My knees were weak, my head spinning with the endorphins and lust, my grip on the bar maintained by sheer force of will. He pressed his body up against my back and I cried out as the heat of him competed with the heat of my skin. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he nuzzled my neck, inhaling deeply. "I can smell how turned on you are, but we aren't done yet." Whimpering, I nodded as my head swam in a sea of subspace.
Slowly, he skimmed his palm against my stomach until he cupped one of my breasts. Pinching the nipple, I arched against him as a cry escaped my lips. "Do you think you could handle the nipple clamps as we continue." Nodding, he pinched my nipple again before moving away as a flood of wetness soaked the panties I was wearing.
I gasped as the first clamp was attached, the screws driving into the sensitive flesh before he secured the other nipple. The slight tug from the chain that connected the two clamps sent pleasure spiraling and I knew that every stroke from the flogger would cause my breasts to sway and cause the chain to tug.
"Thirty-one!" I gasped out as the heavy leather falls smacked against the back of my upper thigh. "Thirty-two" left a matching mark on my other thigh. "Thirty-three" was an downward stroke at the top of my spine that almost tickled at the end as the falls brushed against my over sensitive skin. The next six strokes were an onslaught of blows that had my crying out in both pleasure and pain until finally, "Forty!" was a hard crack against the middle of both my butt cheeks.
Almost immediately I was engulfed by him, his front pressed to my back as he gently removed my aching fingers from the bar as he supported my limp body. "You did so good, darlin', counting out your birthday strokes. I am so proud of you for not losing count. Now, let me take care of you."
Happy Birthday to me.
