She jumped, but it wasn’t a spank.
Instead, his warm hand palmed her ass, rolling the roundness under his hand. “The point of this is not to damage you. It’s meant to sting for an instant, just to get my point across.” His fingers pressed into her flesh, and his voice dropped lower again. “Damn, you have a nice ass.”
“No, I don’t. It’s fa—”
“Ah, ah, ah,” he said. “Those are not amongst words you’re allowed to say. Are you asking for a harder spanking?”
“Uhhh—”
“When I say you have a nice ass, you say, ‘yes, sir.’”
“Yes—sir.”
“We’ll work on that. Three spanks for using the wrong words.” His fingers clutched her ass, almost digging into her skin but stopping just short of hurting. “It would be a pleasure to paddle this gorgeous ass until it’s pink all over, pink and sore and you squirm on my knees when it stings, but you’ve only earned three, so far.”
Fuzz engulfed her mind like she’d fallen into a cloud. The way he’d said that, relishing the words and maybe the view of her ass back there, streamed over her like warm water.
The feeling wasn’t the dark grayness that pervaded her everyday life. That oppressiveness ate away at her like an acid mist.
A small part of her heart sang at his words and the way he seemed to enjoy saying that, a sliver that hadn’t dared raise its head for a long time.
The blood must be rushing to Colleen’s head. She was hanging upside down and staring at the stonelike tile on the floor while those thoughts arose.
He continued, “It’s almost a shame to punish this beautiful ass, though I will, and I’ll enjoy it. If I’d had months to train you, I’d shove a piece of peeled ginger in your asshole so you could concentrate on the sting there, and I’d have hours to properly paddle your ass until you were so red and needy for me.” He stroked her butt cheeks like he was smoothing her skin. “Stay relaxed, princess.”
His fingers slipped over her skin, dipping toward her center, and grazed the soft skin of her folds.
Her focus shifted to the sensitive spots between her legs, and she held her breath.
“No, princess. Don’t tense. Relax. Relax everything.”
Colleen draped herself bonelessly over his knees.
“There’s my good girl.” He gently massaged the folds of her pussy.
Her breath rushed in her nose and chest. It must be because she was lying on her diaphragm that she felt like she couldn’t quite breathe, and it must be because her costume was a little too small that the bustline was strangling her boobs.
Her attention was so intense that the rest of the room and the world faded away.
His touch lightened and then withdrew.
Her head spun too hard for her to do anything but breathe and wait for his next touch.
His palm cracked against the skin of her ass, a sharp sting that went away as soon as she felt it.
She gasped, jerking upward.
His fingers stroked the skin of her butt cheek, soothing even that minor burn away, and then they crept over her flesh and settled between her legs, caressing agonizingly slow circles on the folds over her clit.
Heaviness settled in her pelvis, near where his fingers stroked her. She closed her eyes as every press of his fingers ground against her.
Crack, another sharp smack on her butt cheek, but his fingers had never left her folds. She repressed a whimper from her smarting ass and rising need.
He slid his fingers deeper, slipping through her wetness.
She bit her lip and felt her teeth digging in. Every part of her skin sizzled like she was frying in hot summer sunlight as his hands and fingers sent shivers through her.
“You like this. Don’t you, princess?” he murmured.
