Step 1: Flog and spank the slave girl

"Hit me with this," I ask him, handing him a new style of flogger I've just made. I always ask him to hit me with the new types so I know what they feel like before I try to describe them to other people.

He hits me with it. It's small,  but heavy, and packs a whallop. Kind of like a fist, the heavy loops of rope pound but don't sting like some other loopy ones I've made, though there is a little tiny bit of sting to it on some strokes. He keeps hitting my back with it - it feels like a deep tissue massage and I groan repeatedly.

"Enough?" he asks, as I grunt into the pillow.

"Mmf," I answer.

He puts it away, hanging it with the others in the flogger closet, and retrieves our blue silky one from behind the bed.

This one. 

"What you doing?" I ask. I'm exhausted; I haven't moved from my position diagonally across the bed.

"While I have you here," he says, still standing up next to the bed. He shoves my nightshirt up, exposing the skin of my back and my ass. The silky blue-and-white falls land on my back, the softness of the ends trails over my skin.

"How does this one compare?" he asks.

"It's heavy too," I say, "but no sting." I am purring into the pillow as he lands stroke after stroke on my body. I jump a little now and then but mostly I'm just happy. My tensions melt away. I feel amazing and very close to sleep. He climbs atop me, facing my feet, and gives love to my feet and calves. He shoves my legs wider apart on the bed, but just to get better access to stroke me. His foot is near my head and I stroke his calf, but I'm tired and my hand just winds up resting on his leg while I purr at how he is making me feel.

He moves after some long time spend lavishing affection on my lower legs. I realize that he's still standing and I'm in his spot. "You want me to move?" I ask him drowsily.

"Hmm. Yes, I do," he answers. I pull myself into a straighter line, moving away from his side of the bed and turning my back to him. He gets into bed behind me and his hand smacks my ass loudly. I squeal because I wasn't expecting that. He spanks me repeatedly, over and over.  "You should take better care of yourself," he mutters, referencing a cold sore that's beginning to emerge on my lip.

"I only just saw it!" I murmur.

"Well then what am I supposed to spank you for?" He waits a beat, his hand rubbing the warming flesh of my ass, and then he lifts his hand and smacks me again. I purr. "Oh, that's right," he continues, "I don't have to have a reason."

"If you want one there are plenty," I say, raising my ass slightly into his hand. I am referring to my previous post and the misunderstanding there.

"That's not really your fault," he says. He keeps spanking me though, because he doesn't need a reason. His hand smacks me over and over and I am really, really loving it because it's been a while since we had such an extended session.

"There's not much fight in me," I murmur. I'm so tired and he feels so good. I feel like I might just fall asleep.

"That's okay," he whispers into my ear. His voice sends jolts through my body and I shiver. I do so love when he speaks in my ear like that...

"You feel my cock?" he asks. He is so hard, and humping slightly against my arm. I can definitely feel it. I move my hand to stroke against it, turn toward him, curl into his arms.

"Yes sir," I answer, nuzzling my face into his shoulder. His hand tightens into my hair, pulling my face into him so closely I can barely breathe. I moan happily.

He has started Step 2: Drive the slave girl into crazed arousal.