S*x Toy Designer (1v1) - Chapter 7
The man pointed to the bed. “Take the blanket and spread it out. It’ll be more comfortable.”
Sensing Chi Zaozao’s unease, he had spoken with consideration, and then added, “Just this once. You’ll need to adjust in the future.”
She murmured her agreement and slipped off the bothersome underwear around her ankles. She laid the blanket on the carpet and knelt by the bed.
The man chose a short whip, glancing at her. He flicked it through the air, producing a sharp crack. Chi Zaozao’s body trembled, regretting her choice.
“Having second thoughts?” he asked, as if reading her mind, his eyes deep and unreadable, like an abyss.
She did regret it, but an inexplicable sense of safety stirred within her, as if she knew he wouldn’t truly harm her.
He approached slowly, standing behind her, the whip occasionally brushing her back, teasingly.
Chi Zaozao held her breath, waiting.
His expression hardened. The whip landed on her back with a snap, the sound slicing through the air before the sting registered.
The pain made her body lurch slightly.
“Don’t move. Move again, and it’s ten lashes,” he warned, his tone icy and edged with danger, devoid of his earlier playfulness.
She froze, the fiery sting on her back making her squirm inwardly.
This was her first time enduring such discipline. Before, she had only dabbled online, moving on when it felt enough.
The thrill of the first lash lingered, followed swiftly by the second, then the third, the fourth…
Each strike avoided overlapping, yet every lash grazed the base of her spine, sending unbearable tingles through her.
Her body grew wetter, her breathing heavier, almost laboured.
Snap!
“Ah!”
The whip grazed a previous mark, and pain made her cry out.
The next lash didn’t come. She gasped for air, the pain intensifying on her back, tears spilling unbidden.
He set the whip aside, his fingertips lifting her chin. His thin lips brushed her tear-streaked cheeks, light as a dragonfly landing on water.
“It’s over. You did well,” he murmured soothingly in her ear.
Chi Zaozao felt a surge of grievance. She wrapped her arms around him, nestling into his chest like a petulant child. “It hurts,” she whined softly.
His large hand covered her whip marks, rubbing gently.
She drew a sharp breath, squirming in his arms.
“Don’t move. Rubbing helps it heal faster,” he said softly, his voice trailing with a gentle, rising lilt, as if in a good mood.
Her petulance seemed to disarm him. His hand, rubbing her back, took on a sensual edge.
His lips claimed her whimpering mouth, swallowing her soft complaints.
The depravity of the night deepened.
Chi Zaozao clung to him, as if grasping a lifeline in a flood.
He unbuckled his belt, pausing to ask, “Ready?”
Eager, she pressed her body against his, craving more affection.
He showed no mercy, guiding his c*ck into her wet p*ssy with a single thr*st.
“Ah!” She arched her head back, the delayed gratification fuelling her anticipation for what was to come.