I may want tears tonight.
I smiled back at him, warmth filling me at the thought. I’d been aching for that, and we were both finally in a place where it would be healthy to go there. His boots needed attention, too. Having just gotten the soles replaced on both pairs. I hadn’t blacked the steel toed ones in a while. It was going to be a good night.
Arrive, hugs and snuggles. His boot toes are certainly dirty. The puppy is too rambunctious though, we head downstairs. My kit in hand, he sets up a chair in the back corner in a decent pool of light. Down onto the cold cement I go, think skirt barely any protection. Set out the kit, go get water. He gets distracted by a self-suspension and goes to offer advice and assistance. I wait patiently, preparing myself to serve him.
He returns and we roll up his pant legs. I unlace his boots, draping the waxed strings over my neck, bight towards the respective boot. Lather created while I waited, I head for the right boot, pulling it up onto my thigh. Snip a few strings. Saddle soap, brush, toothbrush and fingers, working into the soft leather. Switch. Left boot on right thigh. It feels good to have them in my hands again. Clean it up and snip a more strings. Switch. I have to sit at this point. Bare feet on cement with the added weight of his leg is doing no good for my feet. Black gold for the shine. Fingertips working every inch. The class has started behind me at some point, I’m listening, but the boots hold my focus. Switch. More black gold and work into the leather. China marker and I bring out the sole lacing, bright white beneath the gleaming black leather. Quick run with a cloth and done. Pack up and sit to his right. Arms around his leg, head on his knee for the rest of class. The engineer girlfriend on his left. He pets and strokes, and squeezes our shoulder knots as we listen and talk about violet wands.
Class over, I am responsible for a few minutes, organizing for the weekend. He warms up on the wall and then smiles over at me. Ready to go? Yes. I put aside my phone and glasses, toss my shirt to the floor below them and walk to the cross. Taking off my bra, I drop it against the wall and hug the beams.
He starts off with the short, soft ones, but they still sting a little with the power he uses. The music isn’t playing yet, he’s got mp3s playing in his ears, but I don’t know what song. I close my eyes and concentrate on the strikes. Catching his rhythm, I bob my head with the hits. The room is full of conversation, but I focus in on us. On the cross, on the floggers, the energy between us. The leather feels so good on my back. His hands beat into the muscles, fingers drag over the heated skin.
He rides the waves of the music in his ears. The strikes come harder and faster, bringing moans then screams. I bounce and stamp, my heel begins to tap with the beat. I am grateful for the mobility of the cross. I shake it and pull on it. We ride the wave back down. His hand in my hair, he pulls me off the cross and down to my knees. My hands on my thighs, I breathe and wait.
He pulls me up again. Stingy floggers, and I scream. Jumping and bobbing and writing against the cross. Falling deep into space. Growling with determination. I can feel the attention some of my screaming is drawing. I smirk, but it is swallowed by another scream. He pauses whenever I jump around. Waiting for me to come back to him. I hear the engineer beating the wall beside me. I know it is her, though I don’t look. Her strikes familiar. I feel his hands again, sending shivers through my body.
Now there are mop floggers. More solid hits. Hard, throbbing against the cross. I hear music, but it isn’t what he’s listening to, so it doesn’t matter. The mops beat into me and he goes faster. Six count and my head can’t keep up, it starts rolling as the flogs roll over my back. The scream builds low in my belly until it bursts free.
His hand in my hair, pulling me up. Your skin is breaking, we’re going to have to stop soon. How are you? I can only smile. I think I manage Good. Do I need to put you in the corner? I nod. He puts me back down. I nearly cry. My body betrays me.
He strikes again and I jump. Oh, we’re starting again, he grins. I nod and he hits. Hard and stingy. I scream and writhe. I hear the engineer beside me, singing. Some of them want to abuse you, some of them want to be abuse. I smile through my screams. Her voice a perfect compliment to the end of our scene. My head bobbing with the song as I scream and shake the cross. I hit my knee once and bounce quickly back up. I hear him start to count with his strikes. 1. Scream. 2. Scream. 3. I drop, but not to my knees, hanging from the cross momentarily in orgasmic release. I pull myself back up. And he finishes off with a few more strikes.
Then his hand is in my hair again, pulling me away from the cross. Around other people and then forcing me down to my knees sheltered by some spanking benches. Head down, eyes tightly closed, hands out. I’m too deep in space to be touched. I can hear everything around me, but it doesn’t matter. The energy is all I care about. The floating, happy, gasping, shaking wonderfulness inside me.
Slowly, I float back down into my body. The sounds around me start to invade. I hear him start in on the engineer. The people beside me talking about blow jobs. Noise and cold air. I’m not ready yet. I ignore it for a little longer, my eyes still heavy.
I’m numb from the knee down before I’m ready to open my eyes. I look around. Who are these people next to me? I still don’t know. He flips a flogger out of his grip and we smile. But I’m awake now, time to move. I don’t want to continue listening to the conversation beside me. I drag myself up onto unfeeling feet and make my way to my things. Glasses on, shirt wrapped around me, text messages checked.
I head over to the bishop’s chair to perch and watch the rest of their scene. She stands still. I am amazed and a little confused. Her happy place, she’ll later explain. But then she starts reacting. Screaming and curling up against the cross. He grins with glee, and goes after sharper toys, even the dragon tail, though he only slaps with it, doesn’t snap. She curses and screams until he is done. Then he wraps her up against his chest.
A few minutes and then calls me over to join them. Snuggling together by the cross, until we’re ready to move. I scoop up my bra and we head upstairs. The couch is taken, but he heads for the big chair and we sit at his feet again, heads on his knees. After awhile the couch is free and we pile on in. Snuggled against his chest and shoulders, arms and legs entwined. Relaxing together until it is time to go.
My shoulders are wet and tacky, a layer of skin is gone, but they only sting a bit, not hurt. The next day they’ll be cold. A new and confusing sensation. Hers are quite tender and it makes me want to poke them when I hug her good night. We head our separate ways with hugs and kisses. It has been a wonderful night for us all.
