She opened her shaking legs at his command. She was glad he couldn’t see her red, tear-stained face, twisted in shame and desire, as he dragged his fingers slowly up and down her wet, puffy lips, marveling at the wetness. All she could do now was close her eyes, bite her lip, and try not to moan.
“Mmm…so wet. What a bad girl you are… You like being punished—don’t even try to deny it!” he growled, teasing her more, his fingers probing everywhere, then, without warning, sliding deep inside her.
“Oh!” she gasped, feeling her pussy clench hard around his fingers. It was no use. She was trying to hold still, but couldn’t help herself and started rubbing her hard clit against his leg. Damn him! she thought. There was no winning this game.
“I can feel that, dirty girl!” he laughed as he removed his hand from between her legs, gently stroked her ass, then smacked it hard.
“I think I need to use something else on your ass, bad girl. Something that will make it sting even more. Something to help you remember this afternoon. What should I use, little girl— the paddle, the crop, my belt?”
He loved making her complicit in her own punishment. She swallowed, then said in a clear voice, “Your belt, please, Sir.”
“Ah, my favorite, and yours, too. You’re not going to be able to sit down for your train ride home, my love.”
“I know, sir.”
“And perhaps you’ll miss that train tonight. Perhaps you’ll have to call in sick tomorrow too, little one. Because I am not done with you. Not at all…”
She should have been scared. She should have ended this. But she didn’t. Because she had to know, she needed to know. Just what did he have planned for her? What would he do to her? All the things he wrote about on his blog? All the things she read that made her so wet, so crazy with need?
She stayed right where she was, waiting for that first blow. She just had to know what it felt like to be owned by him…
