a free-for-all and I wouldn’t have it.
“Do you understand?” I growled in her ear. “Answer me, now.”
“Yes, sir.”
The paddling would play out here and now in front of Victor, who understood nothing. The fire popped loudly. I jerked.
“I understand, sir,” she said snippily. Those little sparks always flared in her eyes when she saw my humanity, the crack in her view of the perfect top.
Or was it that she couldn’t express those feelings herself and it was too much when others could?
“Very well, then. You will count. Carefully. No mistakes. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Her tone signaled that she acknowledged the memory behind the question.
“Then we’ll begin. Take the position.” She bent over, proffering her ass.
The first hit was solid. A loud crack split the room. She sucked in breath and expelled it with an, “Owww,” and then, belatedly, “One.” It sounded sincere. Victor laughed. I stroked her ass gently and whispered in her ear, “Good Genevieve. Good, sweet bottom, no need to be brave now, dearest harlot, just be honest.”
In answer she presented for the next stroke. Her hands clenched in the cuffs and the tendons stood out on the back of her thighs. She cried out at the next, which brought more laughter from Victor. “Two,” she said tightly. I took a breath, held it, as I considered her now scarlet ass.
The third was a loud crack on the midline of her cheeks and she leaped forward. “Oh, three, ow, ow, ow,” she sobbed. I stepped in and stroked her ass. It was hot and tight under my hand. The fire was warm on my face.
I gripped her arm tightly and spoke closely to her ear. “This is a scene, meant to be played, Genevieve, now enough of the theatrics, act.”
Stepping to the other side, I laid the paddle on her ass. She moaned a little in anticipation and I lifted it, bringing it down solidly on the top of her cheeks. She would bear that mark for some time. “Oh, oh, four,” she wailed and I thought she would do it then, prayed for her to say it. I covered her flesh with my pants, put an arm around her tightly as I reached across to pull on the steel ring in her nipple.
I drove my hips against her crimson ass and pinched her cunt lips together. She was still wet and her clit stood up under my fingers. She writhed under my touch and I let her bask in the knowledge of where I could take her. She was close to coming and I backed off to stroke her ass and remind her of where we were now.
She barely had time to get into position before I gave her the next. Victor clapped his hands, impressed. “Five,” she said, sobbing.
I had never asked for it. I’d always insisted she be the one to offer it. Could that be the key? That I had to require her to act, instead of expecting her to act on her own?
I stepped back, swinging the paddle sharply behind her. The air whished and she sucked breath. I stepped in tight to her, coat rubbing roughly against her skin. “Yes, little slut, little bottom, this is what it does,” I whispered in her ear, my fingers tight on that nipple ring. “Genevieve,” I whispered urgently. “Meet me. Own your power . I require it.”
We were frozen for a moment and I ran the paddle over that bruised flesh, the testament to our struggle. She groaned and offered herself to that gentle touch, dancing a little to tell me that she wanted this, asked for it, laid herself open to it and, by extension, me. But it wasn’t enough. It was only one side.
My anger lifted the paddle and brought it down with all the weight of lost time. “Six, oh six, oh,” she cried and, “Oh six, oh, sir, six, oh, sir, oh, sir,” she kept repeating as if once said she could not stop.
She’d acted and the bottomless void acquired edges and limits and I could know her, now, truly and in depth.
I held her from behind, my cock driving against the hot, tender flesh of her ass. I took that nipple ring in my left hand and her clit in the other and brought her off in
“Do you understand?” I growled in her ear. “Answer me, now.”
“Yes, sir.”
The paddling would play out here and now in front of Victor, who understood nothing. The fire popped loudly. I jerked.
“I understand, sir,” she said snippily. Those little sparks always flared in her eyes when she saw my humanity, the crack in her view of the perfect top.
Or was it that she couldn’t express those feelings herself and it was too much when others could?
“Very well, then. You will count. Carefully. No mistakes. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Her tone signaled that she acknowledged the memory behind the question.
“Then we’ll begin. Take the position.” She bent over, proffering her ass.
The first hit was solid. A loud crack split the room. She sucked in breath and expelled it with an, “Owww,” and then, belatedly, “One.” It sounded sincere. Victor laughed. I stroked her ass gently and whispered in her ear, “Good Genevieve. Good, sweet bottom, no need to be brave now, dearest harlot, just be honest.”
In answer she presented for the next stroke. Her hands clenched in the cuffs and the tendons stood out on the back of her thighs. She cried out at the next, which brought more laughter from Victor. “Two,” she said tightly. I took a breath, held it, as I considered her now scarlet ass.
The third was a loud crack on the midline of her cheeks and she leaped forward. “Oh, three, ow, ow, ow,” she sobbed. I stepped in and stroked her ass. It was hot and tight under my hand. The fire was warm on my face.
I gripped her arm tightly and spoke closely to her ear. “This is a scene, meant to be played, Genevieve, now enough of the theatrics, act.”
Stepping to the other side, I laid the paddle on her ass. She moaned a little in anticipation and I lifted it, bringing it down solidly on the top of her cheeks. She would bear that mark for some time. “Oh, oh, four,” she wailed and I thought she would do it then, prayed for her to say it. I covered her flesh with my pants, put an arm around her tightly as I reached across to pull on the steel ring in her nipple.
I drove my hips against her crimson ass and pinched her cunt lips together. She was still wet and her clit stood up under my fingers. She writhed under my touch and I let her bask in the knowledge of where I could take her. She was close to coming and I backed off to stroke her ass and remind her of where we were now.
She barely had time to get into position before I gave her the next. Victor clapped his hands, impressed. “Five,” she said, sobbing.
I had never asked for it. I’d always insisted she be the one to offer it. Could that be the key? That I had to require her to act, instead of expecting her to act on her own?
I stepped back, swinging the paddle sharply behind her. The air whished and she sucked breath. I stepped in tight to her, coat rubbing roughly against her skin. “Yes, little slut, little bottom, this is what it does,” I whispered in her ear, my fingers tight on that nipple ring. “Genevieve,” I whispered urgently. “Meet me. Own your power . I require it.”
We were frozen for a moment and I ran the paddle over that bruised flesh, the testament to our struggle. She groaned and offered herself to that gentle touch, dancing a little to tell me that she wanted this, asked for it, laid herself open to it and, by extension, me. But it wasn’t enough. It was only one side.
My anger lifted the paddle and brought it down with all the weight of lost time. “Six, oh six, oh,” she cried and, “Oh six, oh, sir, six, oh, sir, oh, sir,” she kept repeating as if once said she could not stop.
She’d acted and the bottomless void acquired edges and limits and I could know her, now, truly and in depth.
I held her from behind, my cock driving against the hot, tender flesh of her ass. I took that nipple ring in my left hand and her clit in the other and brought her off in
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