Freedom is Slavery by Louis Friend Page B

not sure if there’s anything you’ll like but go ahead."
    I started leafing through the pages of Prometheus. I was really enjoying the photographs of all thehighly attractive models in their fetish gear. One photograph in particular made my mouth drop open—it was of Louise in a black bodice and leather skirt!
    I read the caption next to the photograph to learn that she was a member and chapter leader of TES.
    Is this why my friend thought we would get on well together? Do I wear my D/s proclivities on my sleeve? Or was this as much a secret to her as it had been to me until now?
    I put away the magazine as she brought out sandwiches and iced tea to eat on her couch. We had a wonderful view of the Village from her tall windows. For the first time since our initial awkward silence before the movie a few nights before, we were quiet. There was something unspoken between us now and I was determined to play the waiting game and make her speak first. This is quiet difficult for a chatterbox like me.
    We were done with lunch and I was carrying the dishes to her kitchenette when she boldly asked, "Do you want to see my collection of floggers?" She said it as casually as if she had asked if I wanted to see her Hummel collection.
    I agreed.
    She went to a large case in the corner of her living room and lowered a protective black cover. Inside were over a dozen floggers of various shapes, colors, and materials. She ran her index finger along the top of them and selected a particular flogger.
    "This was one of my first," she said fondly. "My late husband used it on me the night we met."
    She told me of her first Eulenspiegel Society event and how she had met the man that became her husband. They had played and stayed together for years. He had encouraged her to switch and be a Domme with select people. He groomed her to be the best submissive and Dominant that he possibly could before he passed away years ago.
    Surprising myself I ventured, "I’d like to experience how it feels, if you don’t mind." I stepped towards her, removing my shirt and slightly hunching over so that my hands were on the arm of her couch, propping me up.
    "I’m not going to use that one for sentimental reasons but..." She selected something else.
    I heard the swish of material and felt the slap of a purple deerskin flogger over my shoulders. It warmed my flesh slightly and I could smell the fragrance of the flogger in the air.
    Down it came again, harder this time as she tested out my resilience. Harder again and varied, all across my back. I could hear her put it back and select another. This one had much more of a sting. She swung it around to get a whirring noise before striking me with it, raising welts on my back.
    "I need you to take your pants down so I can have more area to strike," she said matter-of-factly.
    I lowered my pants and underwear, letting them bunch at my ankles. She now struck with abandon across my ass cheeks. I muffled my slight cries as she battered my butt with that flogger and another that was even more sinister. Now I could feel welts raising on my posterior and could hear her switching to yet another flogger.
    "Turn around," she said.
    I obeyed despite this sudden awkwardness of allowing this person who was becoming my friend to suddenly see my genitalia. I could see a line of perspiration across her forehead and a devilish glint in her eyes. The flogger in her fist looked as if it were made out of hard plastic strips.
    She lashed out like a snake and swiped it across my flaccid cock. The sting was incredible and I sucked air through my teeth. I didn’t complain, however. Rather, I stood back up even straighter after instinct had me bend over slightly to pull away from the pain.
    My acceptance and desire for more definitely did right by her. She smiled, the light glinting across her smile, before swiping across my growing cock a second, third, and fourth time. She hung up the flogger and motioned that I should pull my pants