Chapter 29
Bryson
“Safewords, Luna.”
“Red, yellow, and green, Sir.”
“Good. Do not hesitate to use them. I will check in with you often.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Not everyone calls me Sir when I dominate them, but Luna prefers to speak to every Dom at the club with respect.
“Go choose what you want me to strike you with, Luna.”
She turns to the table where I have set out the implements I’m willing to use tonight. It doesn’t take her long to pick a set of floggers and a cane.
I haven’t used the cane on anyone yet tonight. I do enjoy doing so, but it takes a deeply masochistic sub to choose it. I’m glad Luna has decided she’d like to go there for this scene.
As she sets the items in my palm, I say, “Good. Take off your robe. You know the drill. Arms above your head on the cross. I want your hands on the pegs.”
Luna is wearing a black silk robe, and she removes it, sets it on the table, and walks confidently to the St. Andrew’s cross. Every few weeks, she itches for a deeply masochistic scene. Everyone knows it. A lot of people enjoy watching, and she feeds off the gathering crowd.
Undaunted by her nudity, she raises her arms and grabs the pegs that I’ve placed at the perfect level for her. Her pale skin is my favorite to work with. It’s easy to see results when I’m marking white skin like hers.
I’m completely unfazed by her nudity. She’s just a submissive who has come to me to get her fix. She’s lovely, but she does nothing for me sexually. My focus is on turning her skin red, ending with raised welts.
I glance around the room. This is the second submissive I’ve dominated tonight. So far, Lillian has not come to watch. Once I get started, I put all my focus on my sub. I can’t let my mind wander to outside thoughts, or I could injure someone.
I notice Carson standing close by. He’s wearing all black, his feet are planted wide, arms crossed, one hand rubbing his chin, brows slightly furrowed. I’ve noticed him watching Luna before. I wonder if he has an interest in her.
Talk about an incongruent match. I certainly have my own issues that I shared with him about combining being a sadist with having a Little.
In his case, he’s a Daddy Dom. To the best of my knowledge, Luna is not Little.
She’s certainly submissive, but she has a deep masochistic streak.
She likes to be marked in a way that will last a few days and leave her with plenty of reminders, especially when she tries to sit down.
I don’t know what Luna does for work, but I suspect she likes to be struck hard on Fridays so that she can recover enough to return to her job on Mondays.
My job is to make sure she’s able to stretch out the lingering effects of my flogger and cane for two full days without going so far that she’s still wincing on Monday.
It’s what she asks for, and it’s what I deliver.
I set my palm on Luna’s shoulder. “Can you keep your hands on the rungs without restraints, Luna?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“If you change your mind, you’ll tell me.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“If you release either rung without letting me know first, the scene is over,” I warn her.
I’ve scened with Luna many times. She never lets go.
If I thought she would or she had a history of releasing the rungs, I would not let her submit without restraints.
It’s too dangerous. She could be injured if I hit her hand or wrist with a cane.
“Yes, Sir.” She lowers her head and adjusts her feet so they’re a few inches apart. She knows what I will demand of her.
I back up, pick up the set of heavy floggers, and position myself behind her. Starting with light strokes, I get my rhythm quickly, making figure eights in the air as I let the falls land across her shoulder blades.
When Luna’s skin is pink and warm, I pause, step up close to her, and set a hand on the top of her head. “Color, Luna.”
“Green, Sir.” She’s swaying slightly, and her voice is calm. Right where she should be.
“Shall I continue?”
“Yes, Sir.”
I pay no attention to the growing crowd. It’s normal. I won’t let them distract me. I’m only aware of their presence in my peripheral vision. My focus is on my submissive—a woman who has turned her care over to me for thirty minutes.
I resume flogging Luna’s back, moving up and down to include her bottom and the backs of her thighs. I’m aware of every move she makes. Every so often, I strike her harder, causing her to arch forward and whimper. It’s normal. Expected. Routine.
Checking in with her every five minutes or so, I finally decide she’s had enough from the floggers.
Her skin is hot and red. I won’t draw blood.
It’s not something I enjoy. I prefer leaving marks that will fade in several hours or even days.
Permanent reminders of our time together are not in my repertoire.
If a masochist wants their sadist to draw blood, they have to find a different play partner.
As I step up to Luna’s side once more, I pay close attention to her face. She’s blissful, a small smile on her lips.
“Ready for the cane, Luna?”
She licks her lips. “Yes, Sir.”
“Four parallel strikes, as we discussed.”
“Yes, Sir. I’m ready.” She braces herself.
I set my floggers down and pick up the cane she chose before returning to her side.
I don’t tell her when the first strike will come.
It’s how she prefers it. The slight whistle as my cane whips through the air is her only warning before the rattan leaves its mark.
A perfect welt rises high across her butt cheeks.
Luna moans, but holds her form.
I quickly strike again, this time on the backs of her thighs.
She rises onto her toes and throws her head back. “Yes…” she mutters. This is usual for her. She enjoys the release she’s getting from the pain.
My next strike lands below the first, across her bottom, and the final hit raises a welt at her sit spot. That one is going to smart tomorrow.
I immediately go to her, my hand cupping her head. “Deep breaths, Luna.”
She draws in air and lets it out slowly.
“You can lower your arms now.”
She’s shaking as she releases the rungs and grabs the sides of the cross close to her chest.
I’m surprised when a hand lands on my back, and I quickly turn my head to find Carson next to me, his expression tight.
He nods over his shoulder. “You’re needed elsewhere. I’ve got Luna.”
I jerk my gaze beyond him in time to see the back of Lillian as she disappears quickly around the corner. Shit. I look back at Carson. It’s not my style to walk away from a sub. Luna needs aftercare that I agreed to provide. It’s inappropriate for me to leave.
Shifting my attention to Luna, I find her eyes clearer than expected. “I’m fine.”
I frown. “You’re my responsibility.”
She glances at Carson. “I’m good, Bryson. Really. Carson can hold a water bottle for me.” She gives me a crooked grin as if holding a water bottle is the only thing that matters in aftercare. “Go.”
Turning to Carson, I thank him, place my cane on the table, and take off at a jog.
Shit.