“Yes, Mistress Elise,” Alice giggled at either being called an attention whore or that her pretty little bra and panty set were called pathetic.
As I watched her hook her thumbs inside the elastic waist of the thong panties, I grew more enraged with her. This bitch was a challenge because, as of right now, all I wanted to do was pull her hair and make her hurt. I stepped closer to her and yanked on some of that jet-black hair.
“Explain to me what you find funny, attention whore,” I demanded.
Alice hissed and yelped as I tugged her toward me. I grabbed her face and squeezed the tight skin close to her mouth, waiting for her reply.
“Well? I’m waiting for your smart mouth to reply, attention whore,” I prompted her again.
“I’m sorry, Mistress Elise. I was laughing because you called my attire pathetic.”
“Why was that funny to you?”
“Because I think you’re just jealous that your old tits are too saggy to fit into my cute bra. My cute panties probably wouldn’t even cover your furry, floppy pussy lips…Mistress Elise.”
This fucking bitch.
I could feel myself shaking as I continued to squeeze her face. Was she really this way, or was she playing?
I reached up and squeezed one of her perfect nipples and twisted it until she whined. Then I smiled at her and released her face.
“Get on the spanking bench, attention whore.”
Her annoying voice repeated her “Yes, Mistress Elise,” response that I had quickly grown tired of. I stalked toward the table where Jacob’s crop waited for me. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment as I slipped my hand through the worn leather wristlet. When I gripped the handle that he had cradled in his hands so many times, I felt weak.
I was mentally exhausted already from this girl. But topping was something that I wanted to do. I had pushed that need and desire away for years. I wasn’t going to give up just because some punk ass bitch was challenging me. James had given me an excellent test subject for patience.
When I felt as though I was back in control, I returned to Alice and the spanking bench, but instantly anger brewed again. Her perfect, lithe body was sprawled out on the bench, and her shaved pussy mockingly stared at me. Naturally, this was the first place that I struck with the crop.
Alice excitedly took every slap from the crop with an annoying little yelp and moan that reminded me of those young women in porn videos where it sounded like they were just one breath away from coming.
Then a light bulb went on for me; she was a masochist like I was…or had been. Suddenly it had dawned on me that I no longer needed to receive pain. I only needed that from Jacob. Now, I needed to give it. The more I struck her, the more I felt myself racing toward a release, and the better I felt.
“You like this, don’t you, attention whore?” I asked.
“Yes, Mistress Elise!” Alice exclaimed, clearly at the edge of coming.
But no. She wouldn’t be coming. She wouldn’t have the pleasure of it. I could hear the excitement in her voice as she knew she was close. I backed off.
“Get off the bench and on your knees, attention whore,” I instructed.
I propped my boot on the side of the spanking bench as she knelt in front of me. Jesus. Even from my height, I could see her swollen clit peeking out.Sorry, bitch, no coming from this.I tugged my panties to the side and smiled at her.
“Use that smart mouth, attention whore.”
“Yes, Mistress Elise.”
Alice rose off her heels and dove right in. I will hand it to her, she definitely had a mouth on her, and she knew how to use it. I came quicker than I had planned, but her mouth felt so good, and I was already worn out mentally, that I decided not to fight her on it. After I came, I lowered my leg from the spanking bench and walked toward the archway to the hallway. I stopped and turned when I heard her annoying voice.
“Mistress Elise?”
I raised an eyebrow at her and was irked that she looked over at James before speaking again. I was out of patience for her. Though she was a masochist, she was not a good partner for me.
“Are you releasing me from our session, Mistress Elise?”
“Yep,” I said and turned.
“You can call me Ali, Mistress Elise. My friends and favorite Tops all call me Ali,” she explained in a completely different tone.
