She goaded Him to hit harder.
Her breasts swung under the repeated thud of the flogger.
Her eyes gleamed with need, with lust.
"Harder Sir" she exclaimed.
She followed His gaze looking down at the trickle of blood on her breast.
A tiny mole had been damaged and blood flowed from it.
She looked back to Sir, a little surprise.
He stood the flogger tight in His hand, the lengths of leather swinging at His side.
The expression on His face was a boys expression of being caught in naughtiness.
The tables turned for just a moment as she looked into His eyes incredulously.
"It wasn't me!" He claimed.
She laughed out loud at the picture of the flogger still swinging from the last lash and He, proclaiming His innocence in being party to the cause of the bloody flow.