Mirror Mistress F/m erotic spanking romance.
Posted: Mon Aug 11, 2014 1:25 pm
If you enjoy this writing, please let me know - I welcome all constructive criticism.
He bends to her will as she snaps the small leather paddle over his buttocks and thighs.
She knows the sting is delicious torment, and catches sight of the light in her smile in the mirror across the small room. He arches his back—for more? For less? The only clues she has is the body language she knows so well. Yes, he’s enjoying her ministrations. Certainly it feels like it as his cock strokes across her stocking tops with each thwack of leather against male buttock. “There’s a good boy. Good lad,” she purrs as her hand quickens on his crimson flesh.
“Thank you, Mistress,” he croons, too far into his journey to say anything more eloquent.
Should she bring him back? No, leave him, she thinks. Let him enjoy his Heaven, he’s already tasted Hell at the flick of her wrist tonight. She looks to her spent cat-o-nine tails and grins as a sudden rush of cream gathers at the apex of her thighs. He has broken softly for her tonight, without fight or fuss. What a good boy. A flush of pride erupts suddenly on her chest and spreads. She runs a nail over a welt and watches him flinch deliciously. Deciding he’s had enough for one night, she holds her palm over his flaming cheek and feels the heat pouring from his skin. “Good boy. All is forgiven, now please forgive yourself.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
She has healed this man.
She looks at their reflection in the mirror. What an odd sight to an outsider this would make. What beauty befalls her eyes as she watches her man draped naked over her black fishnet stockings—her long black hair tied back in a severe ponytail and only an expanse of black leather between. She’s made beautiful by the flush and he’s a picture of masculinity juxtaposing the sight of his scarlet-assed submission.
Oh yes, he is Mine.
“Good lad. Now get on your knees for Mistress,like a good boy,” she says, guiding him by his hair as she watches intently in the mirror.
He bends to her will as she snaps the small leather paddle over his buttocks and thighs.
She knows the sting is delicious torment, and catches sight of the light in her smile in the mirror across the small room. He arches his back—for more? For less? The only clues she has is the body language she knows so well. Yes, he’s enjoying her ministrations. Certainly it feels like it as his cock strokes across her stocking tops with each thwack of leather against male buttock. “There’s a good boy. Good lad,” she purrs as her hand quickens on his crimson flesh.
“Thank you, Mistress,” he croons, too far into his journey to say anything more eloquent.
Should she bring him back? No, leave him, she thinks. Let him enjoy his Heaven, he’s already tasted Hell at the flick of her wrist tonight. She looks to her spent cat-o-nine tails and grins as a sudden rush of cream gathers at the apex of her thighs. He has broken softly for her tonight, without fight or fuss. What a good boy. A flush of pride erupts suddenly on her chest and spreads. She runs a nail over a welt and watches him flinch deliciously. Deciding he’s had enough for one night, she holds her palm over his flaming cheek and feels the heat pouring from his skin. “Good boy. All is forgiven, now please forgive yourself.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
She has healed this man.
She looks at their reflection in the mirror. What an odd sight to an outsider this would make. What beauty befalls her eyes as she watches her man draped naked over her black fishnet stockings—her long black hair tied back in a severe ponytail and only an expanse of black leather between. She’s made beautiful by the flush and he’s a picture of masculinity juxtaposing the sight of his scarlet-assed submission.
Oh yes, he is Mine.
“Good lad. Now get on your knees for Mistress,like a good boy,” she says, guiding him by his hair as she watches intently in the mirror.
