Each arm held out to her sides, in leather shackles. The skin below pink from the abrasion. Bent slightly forwards, legs bound too. Exposed and available. Her ass a blushed red.
Sight taken and mouth full. Saliva runs down her neck as she squeals into the rubber.
Bite after bite of the toy of the moment. A palm, a paddle. A cane and a flogger. Making art upon her skin. Tears soak the blindfold. Gently falling as she absorbs the consequences of her mouth.
Bratting often got her here. But she was addicted to pushing the Dominant behind her. Pushing to gain a momentary heart flicker from the change in his eyes.
TWACK. Another jolt. Another groan. Another mark on the canvas he was creating. Layers of red etched over each other. Hot and burning. Her blood felt like fire.
The displaced air floating across her skin, soothing and cool. His presence close and intense. His gaze tuned into her. She could not see him. But she could feel him. Close.
A firm grasp of the burning skin and she squeals again. Lost within his intent.
The buckles come undone. A firm hand on her shoulder. Guiding.
Her sight returns. Her speech still held. Before her? A note pad, a pen and a chair covered in uncooked rice.
”Bratting shall bring me consequences… x100”
“Sit brat.”