Story: Don’t tease a dominant

The EverydayKinky prompt is a scarf. 

“Looks essential for a summer picnic!” The submissive teased; her red hair striking in the afternoon Sun. She brattishly taunted. Her ruby lips curled into a playful grin as her words struck the dominant, unmoved by the rascal. “It’s my father’s scarf, I may need it. You better behave,” was the only explanation the youthful Miss Anna gave as the woollen garment remained unpacked in her racksack. Her voice firm but not loud, her glare unfaltering but not fierce.

Claire bit her lip as her impish mind tried to conjure a witty retort to the no-nonsense Miss Anna; her resolve withered and none came. The two-dozen picnickers at the kinky meet-up swapped nibbles and stories as they ate on the exposed hill, soaking the sunshine and admiring the spectacular view. It was quiet, they were isolated and it was peaceful. Until Olivia caught Claire pilfering one of her cocktail sausages.

Punishment, she demanded. Claire needed punishment and Olivia removed her new flogger from her picnic bag; ivory handle with thick leather tails. “I wanted to do a demonstration later, I’ll use Claire’s bum now,” she suggested. The dominant’s smile widened at the sub’s shifting body: excited anxiety and fear gripped Claire as she admired the sixteen inch straps hanging from the impressive weapon.

Olivia strode around the group towards her selected model, waiting for the young lady to present her rump for their games. “Your safewords are ‘fish-heads’ and ‘bubblegum’ aren’t they?” She remembered correctly from their recent demonstration in the church hall. The errant coquette closed her eyes and nervously awaited the first hit of the imposing toy, breathing deeply.

The red-headed submissive yelped as the angry tails of the leather flogger lashed against her skin, crying as her short skirt was held into the small of her back by an accomplice to allow the slashes against her bare flesh.

She fought against the hands holding her to the ground, the embarrassment of the humiliating exposure burning into her cheeks as the group watched her writhe. She squealed and cried at the pain, embarrassed by the situation.

She gasped into the mouthful of undergrowth as the flogger cracked against her, firing agonising streaks of pain into her nerves. Her skin was peppered with sadistic strikes, each flail of the weapon drawing more yelps and cries from her beaten body.

Olivia wanted to play; Olivia wanted to exhibit her new toy and Claire was the chosen victim. Claire never argued against the demands and confidence of her dominant playmates: neither in the bedroom or as a “volunteer” for the regular sadistic demonstrations. She never felt able to resist the offer of immovable binds of rope, or the furious hits of impact play; she longed to have her submissive tendencies explored and her bratty attitude punished.

Her eyes sparkled as Olivia proudly displayed the beaten buttocks to the group. She had been reduced to a mannequin: a pointless inanimate object as the dominant slapped her thighs and laughed as the submissive was crudely exhibited. Olivia boasted of the marks she had made, of the red streaks she had caused. The kinksters admired the brutish handiwork on the girl who had endured the agony of the fierce hand and the damaging flogger.

Claire rubbed the welts on her sit spot; her eyes misty, her nipples hard and her cunt wet. Olivia hugged her tightly, checking she was fine after the beating and Claire gulped as she sat down, wriggling on the sharp blades of the grass as the undergrowth slipped under her risen skirt, poking her wounds with razor-sharp zeal.

“Best not to tease doms with weapons,” Miss Anna added, watching the writhing submissive wriggle on the grass. “That looked painful. Shouldn’t tease us.”

The snort was an error, the jibe about the dominant not having brought a weapon was a mistake. Addressing bratty behaviour was not something Miss Anna would shirk, and she unfurled the scarf from her bag. “Going to hit me with that?” Claire laughed, shaking her head dismissively. “That’s not going to hurt me!”

Miss Anna grabbed hold of the submissive’s thin wrist and tying the scarf firmly to it. She repeated her actions on the other hand, holding the two tightly together.

Claire’s incessant tittering ceased when Miss Anna jerked the woman’s tightly bound wrists away from the group, pulling her onto her feet. “So you’ve tied my wrists, still no weapon and no …”

The scarf was draped over a branch on a nearby tree, holding the lady’s hands outstretched; Claire’s vocal muttering trailed into silence as Miss Anna tugged at the black skirt to unfasten it from the young brat’s waist. “Oi!”

“Olivia, may I borrow your flogger?”


“Hey! That’s not fair!”

Miss Anna ignored her complaints about the justice of the situation and checked that the restrained submissive was OK.

Her muttered response was sufficient, and Miss Anna slashed at the weapon in the air. “Just getting a feel of it; it’s a nice weight,” she mused before she brought the weapon across her shoulder to slash the back of Claire’s red-welted rump. “You can use the tails to flick around but be careful if you do,” the experienced dominatrix added, lightly flicking the flogger onto Claire’s bum and waiting for the loud cry as the end of the tails wrapped around her waist and flicked the top of her pubic hair.

Claire screamed as her skin stung, swearing into the isolated venue as Miss Anna snapped the flogger against Claire’s parted legs, allowing the tails to wrap around the writhing girl’s crack.

Her yells echoed in the valley; her loud screams replaced by panting and tearful sobs as the flogger flicked against her clitoris.

Miss Anna returned the flogger to Olivia, reaching from behind the agonised submissive to untie her. “Next time, just don’t tease dominants,” she whispered. “Or sadists. We will have the last laugh!”

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