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over my head, he fucked me from behind, thrusting his cock into me over and over. When I reached the point of orgasm, he pulled out of me and used the flogger. He alternated again and again. Flogger. Brink of orgasm. Flogger. Brink of orgasm. Until I begged him to let me come.
    Often, I played the hooker who picked up a john, the student whose teacher meted out harsh discipline or the female cop who’d broken the law and been caught in the act. Since he had a thing for handcuffs, Master enjoyed the cop scenario, where he fucked me hard with my wrists cuffed behind my back. No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t wriggle out of a pair of metal cuffs. They only got tighter, which I found out the hard way.
    I even had a nun’s habit, because nuns could only go so long without lusting after a long, thick cock. A flight attendant uniform. The French maid’s outfit. A lasso and Daisy Dukes for my cowgirl costume. Somewhere in this closet of mine, there had to be clothes that commanded authority.
    Last weekend at the fetish club, we met a new member called Lady Pearl, a seductive Domme in her mid-thirties, with pouting lips and pale, milky skin. She put on a show with her sub, a hot sexy stud many years younger than her. As he let her chain him to the St. Andrews’ cross, his muscles rippled and his skin reminded me of burnished copper. He submitted willingly, eagerly, his eyes bright with anticipation, watching her nimble fingers as they tightened the restraints. She ran her hands down the smooth contours of his back, all the way to his perfectly rounded ass, and planted a feather-soft kiss on his shoulder.
    I’d been chained to the cross myself on more than one occasion—never in front of a crowd, though—but seeing it happen to someone else gave me a whole new perspective. In some ways, Lady Pearl interested me far more than her delectable sub. Straight, black hair in a high ponytail, lithe body clad in a latex catsuit, legs sheathed in black platform boots, Lady Pearl oozed power.
    Everyone else sensed it too. In no time at all, club members gathered in a tight semi-circle around the cross, waiting for the action to begin. I moved to the front of the group, Master trailing behind me, puzzled by my interest.
    “You like to watch?” he whispered in my ear. “This is new.”
    “There’s something about her that fascinates me.”
    “Her?” he said in surprise. “Not her boy toy?”
    I shook my head. “Don’t get me wrong. Her boy toy is superb. But she’s so sure of herself, so…powerful.”
    Master laughed softly, wrapping me in his strong arms, and I melted into him. His hand slipped down my black-satin bustier, squeezing my breast until I gasped.
    With a gloved hand, Lady Pearl grabbed her sub by the hair, pulling his head back until he moaned. In her other hand, she held my favorite type of flogger, with a braided handle and twenty-inch flat leather lashes.
    Lady Pearl handled the flogger expertly, giving it a few practice swings to warm up her wrist. Then the scene began. Lashes arced through the air, gleaming under the club’s muted lights. As they landed with a gentle slap on the sub’s back, I knew exactly how he felt, and my own skin tingled in response. Master held me tight, kissing my neck, his palms roving over my waist, gripping my ass. I rubbed my backside against his pelvis. His cock twitched. I reached behind me, grasping him through his tight leather pants. Damn, I hungered for him, fantasizing about his cock thrusting into me from behind as everyone watched. Having sex in public had never interested me before. Even when Master suggested it, I’d always been too shy. What did it feel like to be Lady Pearl’s sub, completely exposed, the centre of everyone’s attention?
    What did it feel like to be Lady Pearl?
    The lashes fell again, a harder slap this time. She quickly established a rhythm, alternating between softly dropping the lashes on his shoulders and ass to whipping them down with