Just as I had ordered, the room was filled with vases of roses. Hanging from one wall was also a wreath made from rose stems, including the thorns. Once in the room, I had Sara remove her dress then stand directly in front of the wreath. Because she was under voice restriction, she said nothing. She’d already spoken once this evening and, as a result, now had a large, uncomfortable plug in her ass. “Position” I said, and she placed her hands on the wall, angling her bottom out. The thorns were less than half an inch from her nipples. “Now, Sarah. I’m going to use a rose flogger on you. I’ll warn you not to move because if you lean forward even a little, you’ll feel those thorns.” I waited. No answer. If she had objected, she would have used her safe world. Ten times I flogged her ass, which was now a lovely red color. The rose base of the plug beautifully visible, glistening with her own juices. The room was now heavily franganced with not only the scent of roses, but with her own unique scent of excitement. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I dropped the flogger and my clothing. I stepped behind her, put my hands beside hers, and impaled her on my throbbing cock. She sighed, leaning back against me. I fucked her hard, pushing her nipples into the thrones, using her for my own pleasure. I felt like a brute, like a conquering warrior, like the man she needed me to be. Within minutes I again filled her with my cum. She was crying softly. I pulled back, my arm wrapped around her waist. “Answer me, Sarah. Was it too much? Did I hurt you?” I saw a drop of blood forming where a thorn had pierced her white breast. “No, Kelton. No. It wasn’t too much. It was perfect. Except. . .” “Except what?” I asked. “Except I want more.”
I laughed, kissed her, and said, “Not a problem. I have so much more planned. Now, no more talking. I want your mouth for other purposes.” She looked up at me, smiled, and dropped to her knees, using her mouth for exactly what I had in mind.