[She allows him to puzzle through it without interruption, simply smiling and maintaining her work with the flogger — light skimming, punctuated by sharp flicks and snaps, always moving. Each shuddered breath or failed attempt at staying still is made note of and cataloged for later. Filed under Likes, SH. It's a narrow file, compared to some of her others, but every time they meet it expands a little more.

Sherlock may well be fooling himself, but not Irene. She'd hardly be much of a domme if she couldn't tell the difference between someone in pain and someone in pain and liking it.

That grunt only serves as confirmation.]

Am I? That would be another first.

[To free up her other hand, she sets the wand on the nightstand. Then, allowing the mylar tails to casually lick up and down his side, she half-turns to sort through her case.

Ball chain flogger? No, better on the back. Firecracker might be too much. —Ah, there. The willow wand. This particular version has plush coating of varying thickness so that each stroke has the potential to be soft and sensuous or hot and sharp. Turning back, she holds it just far enough above his skin that it doesn't conduct the charge.]

Here's my counterproposal — by the time I'm finished you'll give me anything I want.

[It's not unfathomable. After all, it only took her four minutes to make him beg in the alley. She's taking it slower this time, but that doesn't mean she won't get there.

Too many points of contact will diffuse the charge, so for the introductory stroke of the wand she ceases use of the flogger. Rather than put it back in the case, however, she places it handle-first between her teeth.]