The Ojastara Tales: Asking nicely in a Scots accent 2

Ojastara knelt, her hands cuffed together over her head and suspended from a hook in the ceiling. Her knees were well part, the skin of her cunt inner thighs ablaze from the steady, insistent and insinuating lashes of Bridget’s flogger. 

Then Bridget increased the intensity, aiming the floggers lashes only at her soft, sensitive cunt. Ojastara closed her eyes,amnd her mouth hung open. She made no sound. Bridget increased the forces of the lashes, and Ojastara at last moaned, as though she was immersing her body into a warm bath. Then her brows arched, pleading, and she said, again, “Yeeees. Please. Please.” 

Bridget smiled. She leaned down and kissed Ojastara’s forehead, and pressed the handle of the flogger against her cunt. Ojastara seemed to collapse, her whole weight hanging from her wrists while she pressed forward and pushed herself against that hard, leather cylinder. 

At last Ojastara cried out like a cat being fucked, a high animal sound that was both need and satisfaction. It built and suddenly reached up to a higher pitch. There were years in Ojastara’s eyes, spilling, running down her face.

At last she breathed, “Oh yeah. Thank you, Bridget.”

“I think I’d like you to call me ‘Miss Bridget’.”

“Thank you, Miss Bridget.”

“Good girl. Not that you’re a girl, any more than, I don’t know, Eris was. You’re a trickster goddess. There aren’t many of you.”

Ojastara smiled. “That’s nice, Miss Bridget. But I’m not a goddess. Or a trickster.” 

“Just what a trickster goddess would say. But I have better uses for your lying tongue, Tara. Come forward a bit, still on your knees.”

Ojastara, who was still in charge there, and they both knew it, made an interrogative noise. Bridget sighed. “My cunt likes that sound. I think I want you forced to lean back a little, while you get me off.” 

So Ojastara crawled forward until her body hung back, from her uplifted, bound, wrists. Bridget stepped forward, thighs parted, and pressed Ojastara’s face into her cunt. She closed her eyes and sighed, as she felt her tongue in soft, wet, sensitive skin. And she let the flogger’s lashes rest against Ojastara’s back.

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