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Authors: Tamsen Parker
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beginning.”
I can’t help the moan that escapes at his promise, and he shakes his head. “This time you’ll be quiet.”
“Yes, sir,” I squeak, and I’m rewarded by a hard squeeze to my breasts. This is going to be good. He starts in on me again, picking up the intensity, and I’m glad he’s only asked me to be quiet and not still, too, because he’s driving me insane. His fingers dig into me as he squeezes. It’s only just not painful—precisely how I like it. His fingers grasp my nipples, and he pinches and rolls them before tugging hard. My gasp is followed by a slap to the side of my breast.
“I said quiet.” His voice is sharp, and he doesn’t pause in his torments.
“Yes, sir.”
Fuck am I in trouble, and he knows it. My breathless response gave me away. He teases me before tugging sharply again. While I don’t gasp, I can’t help the strangled grunt he’s forced out of me. My disobedience results in another slap, this time to my other breast, and a warning.
“I said no noise. If you make another sound, it will mean punishment and not the little reminders you’ve been getting. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” I don’t know whether to hope for this or not. First punishments are telling, and I can’t say I’m not curious about what this might mean for Cris. I’ve been caned for less, although I suspect that’s not his style. Not yet at any rate.
He torments me for another few minutes, driving me wild with his talented and sure hands. He’s going to go for it again, so I steel myself and manage to stay quiet. But he’s a stubborn and wily son of a bitch, and he does it again, more sharply, yielding a squeal. This isn’t idle threats and disappointment. He wants to punish me. I get another slap to my right breast, followed quickly by one to my left, harder this time.
His hands are on either side of my ribcage, and he leans over me, his mouth brushing by my ear. “It’s such a shame you’re so badly behaved. I was starting to enjoy myself.”
I whimper in response and get a hand at my throat.
“And how should we punish you, pet?” He poses his question idly, as if he has all the time in the world to compose a dissertation on the topic. “So many ways to pink up your pretty pale skin and help you learn to do as you’re told.”
Chapter Six
‡
“Y ou’d almost think you weren’t enjoying yourself. Were you not?”
“I was, sir.” It’s all I can do to not thrust my hips at him in invitation, so yes, I was enjoying myself.
“I’d like to see for myself. Drop your knees.”
I let my knees fall until they nearly touch the table, leaving me open and exposed. He reaches under the table for god knows what, but when he stands up, he’s got two rolled towels. He places them under my knees so I can relax and my legs won’t cramp. This is not Cris’s first rodeo.
He steps to the far end of the table, and my mouth goes dry. He wants me. It’s written all over his face. The feeling is mutual, Cris. I do my best to not squirm as he studies me because I’m aching for his hands. After what seems like forever and a day, he places the heel of one hand onto my mound and presses, spreading his fingers over my low belly. Fuck that feels good. He’s such a tease, but his torture doesn’t last long. A finger from his other hand slips inside of me. I press my head back into the table but don’t make a sound.
“You weren’t lying. You were enjoying yourself.”
His finger is entering and retreating at a pace designed to be tempting, not satisfying. I’m trying to temper my reaction to him, knowing I’m not going to get any satisfaction yet. He’s making it challenging at best, especially when two fingers enter me. I sigh in pleasure, and I’m distracted enough that I’m startled when he starts to talk again.
“While I’d like to forgo your punishment altogether and go straight to fucking you, I don’t want to spoil you. I’m curious. How do you think you should be
I can’t help the moan that escapes at his promise, and he shakes his head. “This time you’ll be quiet.”
“Yes, sir,” I squeak, and I’m rewarded by a hard squeeze to my breasts. This is going to be good. He starts in on me again, picking up the intensity, and I’m glad he’s only asked me to be quiet and not still, too, because he’s driving me insane. His fingers dig into me as he squeezes. It’s only just not painful—precisely how I like it. His fingers grasp my nipples, and he pinches and rolls them before tugging hard. My gasp is followed by a slap to the side of my breast.
“I said quiet.” His voice is sharp, and he doesn’t pause in his torments.
“Yes, sir.”
Fuck am I in trouble, and he knows it. My breathless response gave me away. He teases me before tugging sharply again. While I don’t gasp, I can’t help the strangled grunt he’s forced out of me. My disobedience results in another slap, this time to my other breast, and a warning.
“I said no noise. If you make another sound, it will mean punishment and not the little reminders you’ve been getting. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” I don’t know whether to hope for this or not. First punishments are telling, and I can’t say I’m not curious about what this might mean for Cris. I’ve been caned for less, although I suspect that’s not his style. Not yet at any rate.
He torments me for another few minutes, driving me wild with his talented and sure hands. He’s going to go for it again, so I steel myself and manage to stay quiet. But he’s a stubborn and wily son of a bitch, and he does it again, more sharply, yielding a squeal. This isn’t idle threats and disappointment. He wants to punish me. I get another slap to my right breast, followed quickly by one to my left, harder this time.
His hands are on either side of my ribcage, and he leans over me, his mouth brushing by my ear. “It’s such a shame you’re so badly behaved. I was starting to enjoy myself.”
I whimper in response and get a hand at my throat.
“And how should we punish you, pet?” He poses his question idly, as if he has all the time in the world to compose a dissertation on the topic. “So many ways to pink up your pretty pale skin and help you learn to do as you’re told.”
Chapter Six
‡
“Y ou’d almost think you weren’t enjoying yourself. Were you not?”
“I was, sir.” It’s all I can do to not thrust my hips at him in invitation, so yes, I was enjoying myself.
“I’d like to see for myself. Drop your knees.”
I let my knees fall until they nearly touch the table, leaving me open and exposed. He reaches under the table for god knows what, but when he stands up, he’s got two rolled towels. He places them under my knees so I can relax and my legs won’t cramp. This is not Cris’s first rodeo.
He steps to the far end of the table, and my mouth goes dry. He wants me. It’s written all over his face. The feeling is mutual, Cris. I do my best to not squirm as he studies me because I’m aching for his hands. After what seems like forever and a day, he places the heel of one hand onto my mound and presses, spreading his fingers over my low belly. Fuck that feels good. He’s such a tease, but his torture doesn’t last long. A finger from his other hand slips inside of me. I press my head back into the table but don’t make a sound.
“You weren’t lying. You were enjoying yourself.”
His finger is entering and retreating at a pace designed to be tempting, not satisfying. I’m trying to temper my reaction to him, knowing I’m not going to get any satisfaction yet. He’s making it challenging at best, especially when two fingers enter me. I sigh in pleasure, and I’m distracted enough that I’m startled when he starts to talk again.
“While I’d like to forgo your punishment altogether and go straight to fucking you, I don’t want to spoil you. I’m curious. How do you think you should be
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