Free Fallen Too Far by Mia Moore

‘Favored Patron’ has its privileges I guess.” Not all of the guests at Pandora’s were permitted to use that equipment.
    “Hey, it’s like frequent flier miles.”
    “Yeah, yeah… we’ll catch up later maybe, buddy.” The men shook hands and the ladies air kissed good night. Craig and Jessica left to watch the scenes already under way in the adjoining room.
    Tom turned to Annik. She found herself becoming lost in his eyes. They had darkened somewhat.
    “Hands on the table, please,” he said. She took her hands and put them palm down in front of her. They sat silently as his index finger traced over her hands, finger by finger. She kept her eyes downcast properly, knowing his gaze was wandering from her hand to her face. Such a simple gesture, and yet it served to focus them on what was to come.
    “What will you give me, this night?” his voice was soft, but the power in it was unmistakable. She let the silence hang for a moment.
    “All I can.” Pause again. “The rest you must take.” She was ready. His finger continued to trace her hand for a moment.
    “So I shall.” Master Tom stood and held out his hand. “Let us begin.”
    His hand enveloped her own with a firm pressure. She stood and he led her to the St. Andrew’s cross. Next to it was his partly opened toy bag, placed there by the Staff who served their meal. Another Favored Patron was at the medical table with a submissive. A few other Patrons had remained at their table to watch these scenes. What was going to happen on the stage now was a purer form of BDSM than what had been in the show.
    She was placed against the heavy cross, facing the wall, unable to see what he was doing. Her hand was raised high on the arm of the wooden cross. Leather encased her wrist. Oow! Her skin was caught for a moment in the buckle he cinched shut. His finger swept inside the loop testing that it was secure yet not tight enough to cut off her blood flow.
    He repeated this process with her other hand. She sensed people gather near them, heard whispers and subdued voices.
    Her back arched upward, neck muscles straight and taut when Tom’s hands touched her ankle. He was buckling the leather strap, applying firm pressure on her skin. A thrill of fear shot through her core, waiting for him to finish her other foot. Her fingers trembled before she clenched them into fists and pressed against the wooden surface of the cross. So many times they had scened together and always, there was the excitement and the fear before each one. To be physically restrained, completely vulnerable to her Master.
    When would he begin? Her body was stretched like a bowstring waiting for the caress of his touch, the sting of the whip. She shivered even as warmth infused the flesh between her outstretched legs. The room and the hushed breathing of people nearby dissolved. T here was only her outstretched body waiting for her Master.
    Her head jerked to the side when his breath tingled warmly against her ear, his lips brushing the soft lobe.
    “Would you like me to continue?” he whispered.
    “Ye..yes, please Master.”
    “What are your colors? Tell me.”
    “Red to stop. Orange to ease up. Yellow to take care.” She was now committed to this. Every nerve ending was firing. She inhaled deeply through her nose, nostrils flared when he left her. There was a rustle sound as he rummaged in his toy bag. Would he use Ouch or Oh Shit, the cane?
    The ends of the flogger snapped against her thigh. Her body flinched—more from surprise than pain. Then the other leg. He was using the doeskin flogger. When it struck, the blow was loud, the pain minimal. How long would it be before he stopped the warm-up and got serious? The whip pelted her back and ass. Nerve cells fired at each blow. But it wasn’t enough. She sighed, loud enough for him to hear, challenging him for more.
    Then nothing for a moment. She sensed his approach. The soft touch of cloth wiping her back was soothing, cooling her warm