The squeals I manage to rip out of your restrained form are quite entertaining to listen to. Mildly amusing, I'd say, since I admittedly like them a bit louder. Surely, making you sing a noisier song of distress mustn't be exceptionally difficult, when you're so helpless, and when I have so many toys to use on you. Quite an arsenal, really. Though, sometimes I only need my fingers to drown the victims of my desires in a well-stirred cocktail of pain and pleasure. Which of said aromas would be more prominent depends on you, really. Whether you'd elect to be feisty or docile. I believe you're more inclined to be the former. Playing the so-called tough girl, I suppose. Similar to how I enjoy playing hard-to-get.<br/><br/>It was quite a simple request. Easy to understand, easy to perform. I doubt there's been some kind of miscommunication between us. Yet, you've failed to follow my simple instructions. Leather strands brush against your exposed mounds another time. This time, I flick my wrist a bit faster, pull my hand a bit higher. It produces quite a distinct noise, doesn't it? My flogger on your breasts. Of course, I have more toys to slap you with. Instead of your chest though, I'd prefer to use them on your butt. Back at the party, I've had a good opportunity to have a good look at that teasing bum of yours. When you lie on your back, it's relative safe from me. But that'd eventually change.<br/><br/>Perhaps, I should change my question into a suggestion. "Alright." Numerous tails cut through the air, and graze a round orb on your bare chest. "One fist could make you quite a slut." Its equally tempting sister gets a whack of its own as my flogger pays a quick visit to your opposite breast. "Two…" I continue with a small chuckle. "Two fists would make you my little whore." Like individual streams, the leather tails flow down your cleavage. As I move backwards, the implement keeps sliding down. Its handle soon perches on your belly. Between your legs, I sink to my knees. My hands are rather small, but you don't look quite big down there either. I place a hand over your pussy, rubbing it up and down as my palm touches on your lower lips. My other hand slides on your inner thigh. You feel rather smooth. Both of my thumbs slowly glide down your slit. They come to a stop somewhere in the centre. I part your petals to have a better look at you. Pink folds still seem damp. I trace them with a finger. With vertical strokes, I pet your slit.<br/><br/>Since you've made a good job lubricating yourself, kinda, I don't need much preparation. Palm up, two slender digits press against your opening. They invite themselves in as I penetrate your pussy. "Mmm…" I breathe out. Not quite swiftly, but I shove my digits in. They slowly disappear into your sex, and start dancing in their new cosy home. My free hand rubs your thigh as I introduce a third digit to your pussy. They inch back and forth. "Okay tough girl…" My pinkie decides to join in too, slowly slithering into your opening. And I'm sure you could feel my thumb caressing your folds on the outside. As my fingers start to form a beak, I'm also positive that our little talk about fists makes more sense now. "Would you be a slut or a whore?" My gaze moves on your body, finding your hands at the end. I'm still able to see them, while you could feel mine.