Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357
The tapping of my stilettos against the hardwood floor was loud in the silent room as I walked around the quivering bitch awaiting his punishment. Neither of us spoke as the tension built around us. He was entirely naked while I wore sheer black thigh-high stockings and matching sheer panties. Without a bra, the heavy sway of my tits drew his gaze to my stiff nipples and the rose-tipped flogger I held in my hands.
“Will it hurt?” He finally dared to ask. The nervousness in his voice gave me a thrill, but my face refused to show him I was pleased. My fingers pulled through the length of the leather flogger’s tails. The pretty red rose-shaped bits of leather at the end would thud against his skin when I whipped him. Would it hurt, eventually, but not nearly as much as a cane or whip.