This is Part X of a story that started as a snippet from my drafts long ago.  Thanks to James X Morgan’s interest in the story, we’re continuing to co-create Delilah’s adventures with Master Graham.  You can find the posts here on my blog, and on James’ blog Tall Tales.

Part 1, originally named A Tantalizing Opportunity, now called Delilah’s Adventures with Master Graham: Intro is on my blog here and on James’ blog here.

Part 2, Meeting, is on my blog here and on James’ blog here.

Part 3, Demonstration, is on my blog here and on James’ blog here.

Part 4, Exploration, is on my blog here, and on James’ blog here.

Part 5, Consummation, is on my blog here, and on James’s blog here.

Part 6, Reflection, is on my blog here, and James’ blog here.

Part 7, Distraction, is on my blog here, and on James’ blog here.

Part 8, Hesitation, is on my blog here, and on James’ blog here.

Part 9, Trepidation, is on my blog here, and on James’ blog here.

Previously:

MG took her wrist and encouraged her over his left thigh so her head and torso lay on the bed. Deliberately he lifted her dress above her waist, covering the almost bare skin of her back. He pulled on her hip while squeezing each bared buttock in turn, the ‘t’ of her string insubstantial across her back and mostly invisible elsewhere. He rubbed her bottom gently as she wriggled and gradually relaxed.

‘Who do these belong to?’

“To you, Sir,” she said, surprised at the feelings of warmth and contentment that filled her.

‘Good. Yes they do. And now I will do with them as I please.’

That sent a rush of pleasure through her, a heat that she had not expected.

He reached under his jacket for one of the implements and began stroking the short strap up first one leg and then the other, lingering as it followed the curve of each cheek before changing direction. He allowed the end of the leather to follow the crease then drop briefly to continue its journey along the longer crevice between her thighs.

“Ohhhh,” the sensation was so sensual, so arousing, she was taken by it.  She heard herself moaning softly as if from a distance.

Repeating the sequence three times he admired the pink surface and the barely visible down that covered it – was he imagining that it was slightly raised? He took the strap and let it fall gently on each side of her bottom in turn. He was not in a rush but he suspected he wouldn’t have long to wait.

As the strap landed lightly on her bottom, Delilah almost purred with pleasure.  The slight impact felt so good, and yet it wasn’t quite enough.  “Harder, please, Sir,” she said, surprising herself once again.

‘Harder hmm? Very well.’

MG continued the same rhythm but added a small flick of his wrist so that the leather landed with a snap, causing small ripples on the delicate surfaces.

“Ahhhhh…”  It was harder but not really painful, a bit of sting, and then a rush of warmth and pleasure…  She wiggled, pushing her bottom up a bit.

“Harder, please, Sir,” she said.

MG’s response was not verbal. Now each stroke landed with a distinct thwack and a hint of darker pink began to appear at the centre of each orb. MG began to target the rest of the surface in slightly increasing circles, the rhythm and force remaining constant. The darker pink spread gradually outward.

Delilah felt like her bottom was on fire.  It hurt, and her moans and gasps now were protests at the sting and burn of the strap.  But she also noticed that after each whack landed, it only took it a moment for the pain to settle.  And then, for just a second, that spot felt good.  Until the next blow landed.

She did not think she wanted it harder.  In fact, after what seemed like a long time, she wanted it to stop.  “Sir,” she said, “Sir…”  

She had planned to ask him politely to stop, but instead she cried out, “OH, that hurts so much, Sir, it hurts, I don’t think I can take it, ohhhh, can we stop, please, Sir?”  She began to move her feet on the ground and she threw one hand up behind her, as if she were going to try to cover herself.

MG captured the wayward wrist and clamped it to her hip. Putting the strap to one side he rested his hand on each cheek in turn, feeling the gentle warmth.

‘Who do these belong to?’

His hand felt so good resting on her bottom.  “Mmmmm.  You, Sir.”

‘And is that your choice?’

“Yes, Sir.  It is.”

‘And who decides when I stop?’

She bit her lip.  “You do, Sir.”

‘Good. You’re doing well my dear Delilah, very well. Tell me what your safe words are.’

“Red, Sir, for stop, yellow for slow down.”

‘That’s right. Red means stop everything immediately. Yellow means slow down. Do you want to use a safe word now?’

“Oh.”

It had not occurred to her to use her safe word.  Maybe she should have said ‘yellow.’  But – it hurt – it didn’t hurt that bad though.  And now that he’d stopped, it didn’t hurt at all.  She thought she probably could have taken more. 

“No, Sir, I don’t think I need to use a safe word.  It did hurt, but not that bad.”

‘Good. Three more each side then.’

Without increasing the force, he landed a volley of three leather whacks on the centre of each cheek in turn then stopped, putting down the strap beside him.

He spoke softly as he allowed the back of his hand to stroke the pretty pink cheeks.

‘Well done Delilah, you’re doing very well. Let’s find the other implement now, shall we?’

“Mmmm, yes, Sir.”  She really hardly heard him, but he was pleased with her, and that made her feel good, and she felt a bit floaty, her brain was a bit fuzzy, but in a good way.  Her bottom felt a little tender when he stroked it, but just sensitive, it didn’t really hurt.

MG reached under his jacket and drew out the martinet, essentially the same but a little shorter than the flogger Sir Alan had used earlier and with fewer and narrower tails. He allowed the tails to caress the backs of her legs, turning and descending just before the crease.

Delilah moaned, ohhhh, that felt so good.  She felt like her body was buzzing with sensation.

He drew them side to side, zigzagging up and down the two extended limbs. Reaching her ankles he changed tactics, drawing the bunched tails up the the insides of her legs, slowly approaching the crease and gradually continuing up and along the cleft between her cheeks before following the same path in reverse. Reaching her ankles again, he lifted the martinet and stopped.

Delilah squirmed, opening her legs a bit wider to give him more access, wanting more, wanting him to touch her more intimately, needing his touch to satisfy the aching desire she felt.

MG flicked his wrist and the tails flicked gently down on Delilah’s bottom, trailing down onto her legs before four more languid flicks caused them to repeat their journey. Adding a circular motion to his wrist the martinet now described a figure of eight, the downward diagonals grazing each buttock in turn with the ends of its tails.

Delilah was not thinking at all anymore, lost in sensation.  Little noises escaped her, sighs, soft moans, almost like humming, but she was unaware.

‘Are you happy that you chose to obey me, to submit to me?’

Pulling her attention back to his voice, she said, “Yes, oh yes, Sir.”

‘Good. If you are ready you may ask me to use it a little harder.’

“Yes, please, harder, Sir,” she said, longing for more sensation. 

MG obliged. Maintaining the figure of eight he increased the intensity of the strokes, each of which was now accompanied by a just-audible crack as it landed on each cheek in turn.

Delilah liked the sound of the crack.  She liked the sensations and was lost in the moment. No words, no worries, just sensation.

MG stopped. 

‘Up you get.’

“Ohhhhh,” shocked, Delilah raised her head.  Get up?  But – right now?  She wanted to stand, after all, he said get up, but her body felt boneless, and she slid to the floor instead.  

Looking up at Sir, half-laughing, she said, “Give me a second,” quickly adding “Please, Sir.”  

Taking a deep breath or two, she was able to get to her feet.  ‘Like a newborn colt,’ she thought.

‘Wait.’

There was a pause while her brain registered the word.  Then she moved, a bit awkwardly, into position, reciting under her breath, “Legs open, hands behind your back, head up, eyes down.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said once she felt that she had assumed the correct position.

MG hung his jacket on the chair then moved and stood in front of her, stroking her cheek gently with the back of his hand. 

‘Well done, sweet girl. Now if you would like me to have access to your back – to tease – you may, if you wish, take off your dress.’

‘Otherwise go to the bed and lie down on this side, feet apart and just hanging over the end.’

For a moment, Delilah froze – taking off her clothes was what had made her reluctant to try the flogger.  But he just needed her dress off… and he’d already seen her bottom…  and she did want to see what it would feel like on her back…

She took a breath, bent forward, grasping the hem of the dress, and in one graceful movement, she pulled it off over her head.  She dropped it on the floor, feeling a rush of freedom as the cool air touched her skin.  She climbed onto the bed, and positioned her body so her feet were in the correct position – apart, and hanging over the end of the bed.  

She took another deep breath and waited.

‘Wait.’

Confused, Delilah thought, “I am waiting!”  Then she remembered, and mentally gathering herself, she managed to get her body back up and in position.

‘Is that a good place for your dress?’

“My – my dress?”  

‘Pick it up, put it neatly on the other side of the bed then wait. We’ll discuss this later.’

Delilah realized her dress was on the floor, and she scooped it up, shook it out, and laid it carefully on the other side of the bed.  She realized she was in trouble, but she couldn’t quite come out of the lovely haze she was in.  

Dress in place, she moved back into Wait position and – waited.

‘Now you have a choice: you may remain standing with your hands behind your head or you may lie on the bed as before. Standing or bed?’

Confronted with this choice, she froze.  Which answer was right?  She didn’t want to stand, but maybe she was supposed to?  Why else would he ask her?  

Her thoughts swirling, she said uncertainly, “The bed, please, Sir?”

‘Off you go then.’

Delilah crawled onto the bed and settled herself in position again, feet apart, dangling off the end of the bed.  She was not as caught up in sensation as she had been and a little worried that Sir was displeased with her.

MG was only mildly disappointed. Patience.

‘You’re doing well, I know that was a difficult choice. Well done.’

MG dragged the martinet slowly up her left leg, over her buttock and up the left side of her back. Sliding across her shoulder blades he changed direction and directed the tails down her right side, letting them slip off her toes. He continued in loops: foot, calf, backs of knees, calf, foot and repeat.

“Mmmmm,” Delilah slipped back into the sensations, her body relaxing and opening to welcome it.

He dragged the tail up between her parted legs. They caressed her inner thighs for a microsecond before following the crease between her cheeks up and then along her spine. Deftly, he flicked his wrist and the tails traced an arc before the tips left a mildly stinging pattern on her sensitive derrière – drag the tails up her back, flick, repeat.

This was so arousing, Delilah moaned and her legs opened a bit more.  Her hips began to move, just a little, without her even being aware of it.

This time he allowed the tails to rest on her bottom for an instant before flicking and rotating his wrist to set up a repeating figure of eight. The tails landed on alternate shoulder blades, trailing down to the opposite cheeks before creating a mirror image on the next downward stroke. Stroke after gentle stroke, figure eight after figure eight, he allowed the impact zones to creep slowly towards her buttocks and then gradually back up again.

“Ohhhhh,” she had quickly slipped back into that space of losing awareness of everything except the sensation.  She wasn’t trying to understand anything or figure out what might be wrong, she didn’t have to do anything.  All that existed was her body and the flogger.

The tails stopped on her bottom. MG caused them to dance a moment before drawing them down between her legs until they lost contact. He flicked his wrist in circles and the tails stung Delilah’s left inner thigh. 

The stinging sensation wasn’t unpleasant; Delilah sighed and parted her legs a bit more.

MG changed direction so the tails found her right inner thigh for a while then alternated between the two, edging a little closer to the tri-crease. 

Delilah was almost humming with pleasure, occasionally gasping as the flogger landed a bit harder on her inner thigh.

MG flicked the martinet onto her bottom and allowed the tails to trail between her legs, repeating the circuit as he spoke.

‘Who decides what happens next, dear girl? To your back, your legs and your bottom?’

“You do, Sir,” she said.

‘And is that your choice?’

“No, Sir, it is your choice.”

‘Good, very good.’

Changing direction again he set up a circular motion that teased first between her legs, then onto her bottom and then up her back before switching ninety degrees and working up and down her back and bottom with the very beginnings of more businesslike strokes. 

Delilah felt the shift in tone and instinctively pushed her bottom up, wanting more contact, seeking the stronger sensation.

MG noticed the invitation. He now focused exclusively on the raised cheeks and gradually increased the force behind the rhythmic strokes, producing a distinctive crack each time the tails made contact. 

The sound, the intensity of the strokes, the rhythmic pattern all anchored Delilah more firmly in her body and the moment.  She felt the sting of the tails, but it didn’t register as pain.  Little noises escaped her but she was unaware, absorbing the impact with pleasure. 

MG smiled. He watched and listened to her reactions, appreciating her pretty mewling, the variations in the ripples on her bottom and the subtle changing of the colour of her cheeks. He was enjoying the experience as much as she was. He continued, same rhythm, same target. No need to strike harder. Patience. 

But Delilah was lost in the experience.  She couldn’t have asked for harder, or asked him to stop either.  Fully immersed in the experience, she had lost all sense of her own control.  There was nothing but the steady rhythm of the flogger sending ripples of sensation through her body over and over and over.

No matter how enjoyable, they couldn’t continue indefinitely. MG had a choice: stop or step it up. He chose the latter. He maintained the rhythm and the force but allowed the tails to creep gradually up her back. 

Delilah snuggled more deeply into the bed; she felt – without words for it – she felt completely at ease with receiving whatever was coming her way.  Fully open and receptive.

The tails crept down her back again, the rhythm maintained. Reaching her bottom again the intensity suddenly increased. The tails thwacked down hard three times in quick succession. 

“Ohhhh,” Delilah cried out, but the sting was gone almost as quickly as it had come, and even if it had lingered, she would have simply accepted it as one more sensation.  

‘Good. Well done.’

MG decided the time had come to finish off. He adjusted his stance and, holding the tails with his left hand, drew back his arm then brought the martinet sharply down on the exposed cheeks. The strike covered her bottom perfectly, the tails just flicking down the far curve of her right cheek. 

“Ohhhh!”  Again, there was pain, and then pleasure as the pain receded.  As if she were absorbing the pain.  She raised her bottom, still seeking more.

‘Well done Delilah. Hold still for me now.’

Five more identical strokes followed in quick succession, swishing and cracking and setting in motions waves of reddening flesh.

Delilah cried out as the strokes landed. She didn’t move, but her breath was ragged, her hands balled into fists.

MG put down the martinet and rubbed Delilah’s back until her breathing settled. He ran his hand over her buttocks, tracing and admiring the raised lines on the reddened skin.

Delilah enjoyed the sensation of his hand on her skin, which was sensitive to the touch, but not quite painful.  She smiled, feeling very aware of her body, more than she had ever felt before, not in a self-conscious way but more in tune with what she was feeling.  

He tapped her bottom lightly. 

‘Up you get now. Over there, face me and wait.’

“Oh!  Standing up?” she asked, quickly adding, “Yes, of course.  Just give me a minute.”  

She pushed her upper body up, resting on her arms, stretching herself.  That felt so good.  Realizing that would not get her up, she collapsed back onto the bed, turned on her side, curled up a bit.  Letting her legs dangle off the bed, scooting sideways til she felt the floor beneath her.

She pushed herself up so she was sitting.  Shook her head a bit, reorienting herself, as if awakening from a dream.  

She stood then, a bit tentative, but finding her footing.  Smiling, she stretched, a full body stretch, and looked to Sir Graham for instructions.  

‘Good. Feet a bit wider. Hands behind your head. Head up, look down.’

A shiver of pleasure ran through her and she felt a tug at her core, sending heat through her body.  She moved her feet, put her hands behind her body and realized how fully this exposed her to his gaze.

She wanted to cover herself, but the words ‘obey’ and ‘submit’ floated through her mind, creating another rush of pleasure.  She raised her head, lowered her eyes, and pulled her elbows back, making her stance even more open and receptive.  

‘When I say ‘inspection’ this is the position you will adopt. Understood?’

“Yes, Sir.”

‘Wait’ he paused ‘Inspection.’

At the command ‘Wait’ Delilah moved her arms behind her back, brought her legs a bit closer together, then quickly responded to the next command, resuming the more open position.  She was pleased with herself.

‘Good.’

And even more pleased to hear his praise.

MG walked behind her and traced the lines on her back and bottom with his fingers.

Delilah moaned, closing her eyes for a moment.  His touch ignited the fire within her almost unbearably.  She wanted to take him in her mouth, and she wanted him to fill her with his…

‘Kneel.’

Her thoughts so suddenly interrupted, she brought her attention back to his words.  Lowering her arms, she was able to kneel with some grace and waited, trembling from the intensity of her own desire.

‘Look at me.’

She raised her eyes to his face, noticing how serious he looked.  

‘You dropped your dress on the floor. Is that a good way to treat your clothes?’

This totally unexpected question shook her, she felt her stomach twist.  She barely remembered dropping her dress, but, “No, Sir,” she said, “I – no, Sir, it’s not.”

‘I don’t know what you do at home but while you are with me I expect you to take care of yourself and your belongings. Clear?’

She was stunned.  She remembered now how daring and brave she had felt when she took the dress off, dropping it with abandon as if she had been set free in some way.

Now she felt a creeping sense of shame, another twist in her belly, and she longed to drop her head, maybe curl into a ball.  She felt tears welling up.

Realizing he was waiting, she said, “Yes, Sir.”

‘And if you don’t you will bear the consequences. Wait.’

Slowly, trying to hold back the tears, Delilah got to her feet and moved into position.  Her body felt heavy now, as if she were moving through water.  

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat.  The tears began to spill over, just a trickle.

MG moved Delilah’s dress then sat on the end of the bed. 

‘Come here.’

Reluctantly, she moved to stand in front of him.  A few tears were rolling down her cheeks now, and she made no sound.

He pulled her over his knee, her upper body on the bed then tapped her hip twice. 

She lay unresisting, just waiting.  She knew he was going to punish her now.  She shouldn’t have dropped her dress.  But she didn’t know – she wasn’t thinking.

Hooking his thumbs into the insubstantial waistband, he drew her panties down to her knees then cupped his hand on each warm cheek, one after the other. 

Delilah barely noticed.   She had withdrawn into her own thoughts.

‘Just like my Dad,’ she said to herself.  ‘No matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, there’s always something he sees that I’ve done wrong.’  The tears were pouring down her face now, although no sobs escaped her.  “I’ll never be good enough.”

Deliberately and rhythmically, MG began to smooth the gel into Delilah’s bottom, first on the left, then the right.

Transferring his attention to her sit spots, he rubbed gently, spreading the gel evenly and continuing to her inner thighs where the traces were less marked.

Delilah gasped, that had distracted her, and felt sooo good. Now she was back in the moment, thoughts of her failures receding.  He was – he wasn’t punishing her.  

MG transferred his attention to Delilah’s back, following the striations with the soothing gel. 

‘Well done, sweet girl, I’ll look after you. Everything is ok.’

His words filled her heart.  He wasn’t angry about her dress after all.

He now rubbed his hands gently down each side of her back, over her red cheeks and down to her knees before lifting off and repeating the gesture. 

He rubbed her bottom as he spoke. 

‘All done now, my dear Delilah, all done. You’ve done very well. I’m proud of you this evening.’

“Mmmm, thank you, Sir,” she said, with enthusiasm.  Every nerve ending was alive, she felt like she was glowing. The heat between her legs was fierce, and she wondered if he had noticed her panties were soaked. “Really, thank you.”  

And the urge was back. Now more than ever, she wanted to kneel at his feet and – she almost giggled at the thought – show her appreciation.  To taste him.  Would he let her do that?

MG reached down and slid her panties gently into place. He pulled on her shoulder and helped her onto her knees in front of him. His arms around her, he pulled her into his chest and held her, gently stroking her hair. 

‘I’ve got you, dear girl. I’ve got you and everything will be ok. You’ve done so well and I am very proud of you.’

She looked up at him, “Thank you, Sir, it was amazing.  I’ve never experienced anything like that. I really did feel like I belonged to you.  And the flogging…  That was – I can’t even find words.”

She paused.  Did she dare do this?  What if he made her feel stupid?  But she pushed ahead.

“It’s made me feel like – well, like I want to – I would like to -” her whole body was hot, she thought she might die from embarrassment.

‘You know you can say anything and I won’t judge you.‘

Almost whispering, she said, “I would like to um, to taste you, to -” and she lowered her voice even more, “Um, take your cock in my mouth.  And – you know…”  

Her heart pounded and she wanted to disappear.  She had been bold before, she had asked for what she wanted with other men.  But it was different with him. What he thought of her mattered so much. 

‘Thank you, dear Delilah, for your trust. That means a lot to me.’

Delilah listened, wondering where he was going with this.

‘A sexual element can form part of a Dom/sub relationship or scene and I believe it should normally be discussed and agreed in advance or develop over time. It certainly should not be taken lightly.’

MG took her face gently in her hands. 

‘Right now your emotions are affected by the intense experience we have just shared. That’s a fact, not a weakness or criticism. I believe it would be wrong for me to take advantage of that fact here and now. But…’

“But?” she asked, feeling hopeful.

‘But, my sweet girl, it is a discussion I would love to have with you when emotions are not so high and both of us can make considered decisions. Will you trust me in that, please?’

For a moment, she was disappointed. And embarrassed.  Then she realized how different this was from any interaction she’d had with a man before.  His restraint actually aroused her more, but she knew what he said was right.  And she did trust him.

“Yes, Sir,” she said, “I will trust you.  As she said that, she felt herself opening to him; she felt like she was putting her desire and willingness in his hands.  She smiled a bit shyly, “It is your choice,” she said.  And another shivering rush of pleasure ran through her.

MG smiled into her eyes and held them. 

‘Now, would you like to tell me what those tears were about? I hope I didn’t upset you.’

She shook her head, “No, Sir, you didn’t upset me.  I thought for a minute you were mad at me, and I was upset, but it was silly.  I don’t know why I cried like that.”  

She shook her head at her own foolishness.  

Right now, she could barely remember why she had been so upset.  It felt like all her emotions had been wide open and everything was intense.

MG pulled her close and continued stroking her hair. 

‘I’m glad it wasn’t me. I do have certain expectations, like taking care of yourself and being honest for example, which if not met will provoke a reaction but I always aim not to get mad. And do remember that you can tell me anything. Or you can choose not to and tell me simply that you’d rather not say. Happy with that?’

Delilah snuggled into him with a little sigh.  “Yes, Sir,” she said.  “Definitely happy with that.”

‘Good girl.’