Mastering Inga (Service & Submission Book 2) by Megan Michaels Page B

importance to him, and he’d been livid at the news.
    He’d paddled her bottom with a wooden spoon as a warm up. She’d argued with him, asking him why he’d used a spoon rather than his hand. Weren’t warm-ups supposed be with the hand?
    Well, he hadn’t appreciated her making that argument. She’d been sent to the corner as a sniveling, sore girl. Then she’d been bent over the bed for a session with his paddle. He’d given her thirty swats of the dreaded paddle — one for each mile over the speed limit. She had sobbed so hard that she didn’t think she’d ever recover. It’d been deserved and she’d needed it more than she’d realized. Speeding wasn’t even something she contemplated anymore. It’d cured her of the habit completely.
    She didn’t think she’d receive a punishment that severe this time. After all, it was her first time being punished by Garrett. Although snapping her fingers and calling him a pompous, arrogant ass might make it… difficult.
    Who would call a Master a pompous, arrogant ass, but me?
    She slipped her dress over her head. She only had her bra on at that point, since he’d ripped her panties off. No one had ever ripped her panties off to have sex. Who does that?
    She had a sudden urge to go to the bathroom, and quickly ran to the bathroom to void her poor bladder. She’d be mortified if she had an accident during a punishment. She flushed the toilet and washed her hands. Viewing herself in the mirror wearing only her bra, she blushed knowing that she would be spanked soon. She turned, looking at her reflection in the mirror to see if his handprints were still on her bottom. Her bottom had returned to almost its normal color once more, with only a couple reddish finger marks still visible. He spanked hard. The fact that he’d left marks on her bottom even though he’d spanked her over her dress, heightened her concern about a bare bottom spanking from this man.
    She returned to the living room, looking in silence at the couch for a long moment. Taking her bra off, she tossed it to the floor. It would be yet another first: he’d never been spanked over the back of a couch before. She’d read about them in her romance novels, of course, but in real life, the Doms she’d had before preferred the bed or a spanking bench.
    In the books she read, the women loved grinding their pussies on the edge of the couch. Their hands would be on the seat cushions and their feet were just off the floor behind them, their clits pressed against the fabric-covered hard edge. The Dom would widen the woman’s stance, exposing not only her labia but her bottom hole to his gaze. He would then run his finger between her cheeks, circling her rosebud and dipping into it.
    Inga loved her books and just thinking about it made her throb, her clit straining from the hood, begging to be rubbed. She let her fingers glide into her slit; the lips already slick with her juices. Coating her forefinger with her juices, she dragged it lightly over and around her hard nub, electrifying the bundle of nerves. Her empty pussy clenched hard, forcing her hips to thrust. She slid her fingers down and pushed them into herself bending her knees slightly to give her better, deeper access. She curled her finger and pressed over her g-spot. She closed her eyes with a low growl from deep in her throat. Pulling her finger out of her womb, she clenched at the loss, her body shivering. Taking advantage of the sensation, she slid her finger back up to her clit, rubbing it insistently, the throbbing and pulsating of that nub spurring her toward release.
    “Bad girl!”
    Inga’s heart leapt into her throat. It was Garrett.
    Oh my God, let me die or the earth swallow me up! This cannot be happening to me!
    His hand swatted her bottom, the loud noise startling her, the flash of hot pain making her groan. She reached back to cup her bare bottom only to have him pull her hands away, and he swatted her several more