“I understand how much trouble you’ve been having,” he said, his voice low and knowing, “reaching orgasm with your pussy sealed like that.”
A whimper escaped my throat. He knew. Of course he knew. He’d watched me try desperately to get relief, had probably seen all the biometric data showing my failed attempts.
“I’m going to teach you to come this way.” His hand slid down between my clenched thighs, and I felt his fingers press against the place where my legs met. “Squeeze your thighs together for me, sweetheart. Flex your core.”
I obeyed without thinking, clamping my thighs tight around his hand and engaging every muscle in my belly and pelvis. The sensation was immediate and overwhelming—I was right there, teetering on the very edge, so close I could barely breathe.
Then his hand withdrew.
“No—” I started to protest, but his palm came down hard on my bottom, once, twice, three times in rapid succession.
“Come for me,” he commanded, and his hand struck again.
The orgasm hit me like a freight train. I screamed—actually screamed in pleasure rather than pain—as ecstasy crashed through every nerve in my body. My sealed pussy clenched violently, trying to contract around nothing, and somehow that made it more intense, not less. The spanking continued through it all, each impact sending fresh shockwaves of sensation radiating outward from my burning bottom.
I’d never felt anything like it. My previous orgasms—as many as they had been, coaxed from my body with careful touches in the privacy of my dorm room—had been pleasant releases, gentle waves. This was a tsunami. This was my body turning inside out, every muscle contracting at once, my vision going white as I convulsed over Mike’s lap.
When it finally subsided, I was sobbing again—but not from pain. From the sheer overwhelming intensity of what had just happened. My bottom throbbed with heat and my thighs were slick with the evidence of my need.
Mike kept his hand on my burning bottom, rubbing gentle circles that made me shudder with aftershocks. I lay draped over his lap, boneless and trembling, my face wet with tears and my breath coming in ragged gasps. His palm moved in soothing strokes, and I felt myself start to come back to earth, back to awareness of where I was and what had just happened.
“Shhh,” he murmured, his other hand stroking my hair. “Good girl. Such a good girl for me.”
The praise made something warm bloom in my chest even as my bottom throbbed with heat. I’d never felt so thoroughly undone, so completely vulnerable. My dress was still bunched at my waist, my panties still around my knees, and I was draped over the knee of a man I’d met for the first time this afternoon. A man who’d just spanked me until I screamed and then made me come harder than I’d ever come in my life.
We stayed like that for several minutes, his hand moving in those gentle, soothing circles while I caught my breath. Finally, when my sobs had quieted to occasional hiccups, he spoke.
“Laura,” he said, his voice low and measured, “it’s time for you to learn to thank your sponsor for the discipline and pleasure he gives you.”
CHAPTER 12
Laura
My stomach flipped. Butterflies—no, more like a whole swarm of moths—filled my belly. I knew what he meant. I knew, but I needed to hear him say it. Needed to make him spell it out.
“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice small and shaky.
His hand stilled on my bottom. “I think you know exactly what I mean, sweetheart.”
I did. God help me, I did. My face burned even hotter than my spanked bottom, and I felt fresh wetness trickle from the seal between my legs.
“You’re going to kneel in front of me,” Mike said, his tone quiet but absolutely firm, leaving no room for negotiation. “You’re going to take my cock out of my pants. And you’re going to suck it until I come.”
Each of his words landed with devastating precision. My breath caught in my throat, and I felt my sealed pussy clench hard.
“You’re going to learn to swallow every drop of my seed,” he continued, and I could hear something dark and hungry in his voice now. “Do you understand?”
“I… I don’t know how,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I’ve never?—”
“I know you haven’t.” His hand resumed its gentle stroking of my punished flesh. “I’m going to teach you how to please me. I’m going to teach you how to worship a man’s penis properly, and I’m going to teach you to take my cock deep when I decide to hold your head still and fuck your face.”
The crude words—fuck your face—sent a jolt of mortification through me so intense I thought I might actually die of shame right there over his lap. But underneath the mortification, that terrible heat was building again. The thought of kneeling before him, of taking his cock in my mouth, of being taught how to service him—it made my sealed pussy throb with renewed need. What was wrong with me? Why did the most degrading things make me feel this way?
“Stand up,” Mike said, and his leg lifted from the backs of my knees, releasing me.
I pushed myself up on trembling arms, my bottom on fire, my face wet with tears. My panties were still around my knees, and I had to shuffle awkwardly to get my balance. Mike’s hands steadied me at the waist.
“Take off your dress,” he said, his voice still gentle but with that unmistakable note of command beneath it.
