What She Needs - Lacey Alexander [62]
Now he met her gaze, but it didn’t feel like she was looking at Brent—she was actually a little frightened of him right now, and so far, she didn’t like this fantasy very much. She shook her head, afraid to answer audibly.
“A flogger can be used in soft ways,” he said, his voice growing slightly more gentle as he dragged the leather strips across her breasts, making them tingle and ache, then down her arm in a caress that left her burning for his touch.
“Or,” he went on, “it can be used to punish.” She feared he might strike her, but instead he snapped the tool harshly against his own thigh. “Be a good, obedient little sex slave and you won’t have to suffer the latter.”
She wasn’t sure whether to nod, so she didn’t—simply suffered the unexpected ribbons of pleasure that fluttered through her in response to the flogger’s fingerlike strips.
“Now,” he said, turning back to Serena, “take that to the new slave.” He pointed to a small, round stool, the seat padded in black leather, like so much else in the room.
Serena situated the stool against the wall beside Jenna.
Brent then pointed at it again. “Sit, slave.”
Jenna sat, made aware of the chains that bound her, when she moved—and of her bare ass, when it encountered the leather.
“Now spread your legs wide.”
The demand caught her off guard and the very idea left her feeling horribly exposed. So much that she considered refusing. But that was fear talking, and Brent’s words echoed in her head once more. Never use your safeword out of fear.
So Jenna took a deep breath and slowly parted her legs—mostly covered with her boots and fishnets—as wide as she comfortably could, putting her surely glistening pussy on full display for everyone in the dungeon. The move made her swallow nervously—yet again, she oozed with unexpected, unbidden excitement. God, how strange.
Brent now passed his flogger to Serena. “Tease her cunt,” he instructed simply.
So Serena knelt between Jenna’s thighs and gently began brushing the flogger up and down through her pussy as if it were a feather duster and Jenna’s crotch needed tidying.
And—oh God—it was hard not to react. The fact that her cunt was shaved left the soft skin there ultrasensitive to such a light touch. Not to mention the effect the tender strokes had on her clit, which she suspected had been protruding from her slit long before she’d parted her legs at Brent’s command.
Again and again, Serena swept the flogger between her thighs, and it was impossible for Jenna to hold in her sighs, impossible not to thrust ever so gently against it.
She didn’t look at Brent—for some reason, she didn’t want to acknowledge to him how much pleasure this particularly kinky act was bringing her. At moments, she looked at Serena, but that felt odd, too, and at other moments, she simply looked down, at the flogger and her pussy—but again, weird. So finally, she just closed her eyes—and then, oh God, she really felt it, even letting a soft moan escape her lips.
“Gabe, Zack, secure the new slave’s arms tighter to the wall.”
Brent’s voice briefly interrupted Jenna’s pleasure to make her glance up, but her pussy felt so swollen and hot now that even this command didn’t frighten her the way it might have just minutes ago. Maybe she was starting to get accustomed to the game here.
In fact, rather than worry about what was happening, she found herself more interested to see exactly who was joining the festivities— and, oh my, her whole body warmed further at the sight of the two strapping, muscular guys heading her way through the dim lighting.
She decided the one with the large Z—like the mark of Zorro—tattooed on his arm was surely Zack. Sporting long, dark hair and a silver hoop earring, he looked like . . . a biker or someone equally as dangerous. Gabe, on