“Would you like an orgasm first? From this angle you do look rather… eager.”
I groan again, but I know there is no point at all in false modesty. “Yes, please, sir. That would be most welcome.”
“Slut. Perhaps I should make you wait. Make you earn it.”
“I, yes, if you think…” Disappointment carries a bitter taste, but I know better than to beg. He will do whatever he decides to do to me, regardless of my wishes. I chew on my lower lip, waiting, with as much patience as I can muster, for Ewan’s next move.
My dom is in no hurry. He walks to the side of the bed, then sits beside me, facing towards my bum. His left arm loops around my waist as he leans in to admire my wide open cleft. At least, I hope he is admiring.
“So pretty.”Ah, thank heaven for that.“And your bottom is beautifully striped from your spanking earlier. Not quite symmetrical—I stopped after fifteen strokes—but lovely even so. And still just a little hint of redness all over. You do respond well to a spanking, love.”
“Thank you. I think. Sir.”
“You’re welcome.”
His murmured response is almost lost on me as he uses the fingers of his right hand to part my soaking labia. I groan in undiluted pleasure, my hips gyrating as I seek the friction I crave. A light tap on my delicate backside puts an abrupt stop to that. I try to remember my manners and remain still, though my powers of restraint are sorely tested as he sinks two fingers deep into my drooling pussy. I fail to suppress my sigh of pleasure, but he seems inclined to disregard that.
He finger-fucks me, slow at first, swirling the two digits against my inner walls. I clench hard, tightening my muscles in some vain attempt to keep him where I want him. He pulls his fingers from me, only to slide them the length of my clit. He presses hard, his touch demanding a response. My climax surges from deep within, and my body feels to be melting.
“Hold it. Not yet.” The cool, heartless words are like a splash of cold water. I whimper, at a loss for something, anything I might do to stave off the inevitable. Ewan continues to caress my clit, circling with his fingertip before rubbing from side to side. As my orgasm rearsagain, he pinches the plump, pulsing nub between his thumb and forefinger. I’m torn between bitter resentment and abject gratitude as my release again subsides to more manageable proportions.
“You can come just as the plug goes in. That way you’ll be relaxed and won’t be fighting or trying to resist it. So I want you right on the edge, ready to let yourself go as soon as I give you permission. Understood?”
“I think so, sir. But, what if I can’t help it? If you touch me again I think I’ll lose it.”
“You won’t. Unless you fancy another spanking this evening, of course.”
“I don’t, sir.”
“Thought not. You’re beautifully wet down here. Seems a pity to waste it. I’ve put plenty of lube on the plug itself, but I think we’ll make use of your own juices for your arse. Of course, that means a lot more finger-fucking, but I’m sure you’ll manage not to disgrace yourself. Won’t you?”
I don’t reply. My mind goes a blank as the prospect of his fingers probing, exploring, collecting my moisture to ease his entry into my arse. Oh. My. God.
“Faith, answer me. You won’t disgrace yourself by stealing an orgasm without permission, will you?” He accompanies his question with another sharp slap to my sensitive buttock.
“No, sir.” I mutter the words into the duvet, resisting the urge to squeeze down hard as though that might protect me somehow.
Ewan chuckles, then goes to work. He plunges three fingers inside me this time, scissoring them against my pussy walls to stimulate the flow of moisture. It is an effective approach; I’m conscious of my cunt trickling liquid onto my inner thighs to trail down my leg. He shifts his angle slightly to focus on my G-spot, the caress sheeragony as I mount a desperate inner struggle to resist.
“Not easy, is it, little subbie. But you’re doing so well and it will be worth it. I promise.”
I could almost cry with relief as he slides his fingers from my pussy. He uses his left hand to part my buttocks, exposing my anus to his gaze.
“Mmm, this looks tight. Fucking gorgeous.”
I wince as he circles the small hole with the tip of his slick finger, though there is nothing painful or even uncomfortable in his caress. My mind is in turmoil, still grappling with the forbidden wickedness of this, while my body is already slackening, opening, welcoming. He presses, applies only the merest hint of force, and my arse opens to admit his finger. He slides it in, just an inch or so, perhaps to the first knuckle. He stops, twisting his finger inside me to widen the entrance.
I let out a groan, humiliated and hopelessly aroused in equal measure.
“How are you doing, Faith?” Ewan’s finger stills as he waits for my affirmation that all is well.
“I’m fine, sir.”
“Okay to continue?”
“Yes, sir.”
He presses a little harder, and the rest of his finger sinks inside me. I would collapse onto the bed, but his left arm is again looped around my waist and he is supporting my weight, holding me in place. He pulls his finger out again, then drives it deep. He has his entry; my anus offers no resistance as he finger-fucks my arse. His long, determined strokes work the sphincter as the last of my emotional resistance ebbs away.
