Even before you have swallowed the last of his sticky cum, the man has new designs on your body. He takes a leather switch from the toolbox and runs it tantalizingly over your nipples, your breasts, first one and then the other. Without warning, he strikes your breast hard, the end of the whip just catching your erect nipple. You cry out, and you are not sure whether your cry was of pleasure or pain. He strikes you again and again, each blow skillfully angled to catch a different part of your breasts.
He grabs the chain at your neck and forces your head down, your face pressed into the mat again. He stands on the chain so that you cannot move, cannot see, can barely cry out, and applies the switch to your ass cheeks. You don’t want him to stop. You realize that he is whipping you just hard enough to raise red marks on your body, not enough to be permanent.
You twist your face to one side, to be able to see him, and you, in the mirror. Your body shakes at every blow, your breasts tremble in a way that seems to emphasize the red lines that intersect your nipple. It seems he is one of these men who are turned on by beating a woman. And you have learned that you are one of these women who want to be beaten, that want to be dominated. It is a feeling so different from your normal life, your demanding professional management role. You have never felt so vulnerable, or so excited, ever before.
The man is suddenly, impressively, hard again as you can see in the mirror. He stands behind you, perhaps admiring his handiwork on your ass, and then slips out of the leather trousers so that he too is naked. You are able to briefly admire his manhood before he again enters you. You feel yourself tighten around him, your muscles impossibly tense and taut.
In the mirror you can see him thrust his rigid cock into your pussy, his rhythmic movements somehow bringing you to the edge of orgasm and holding you there. Your breath comes in gasps, your hardened nipples brush the mat. You close your eyes so that you can concentrate on the waves of pleasure between your legs.
After what feels like an age, he comes again, this time inside your vagina, and you come too, throbbing and shaking with paroxysms of satisfaction. You are obscurely pleased that you managed to hold off your climax until he was ready to come.