She doodled listlessly.
She tried not to. God knows, she tried not to. Her fingers lingered on the curve of a smiley. It was not just because she wanted to be punished, but because if she could wait until he permitted it, she knew how much more intense the pleasure he would give her would be.
When he made her touch herself, she was able to hold back that smile. When he blindfolded her and tied her wrists to the bedposts, and teased her nipples with his lips and teeth and tongue, she moaned, wanting more but the smile did not come. When he dripped ice water on one rosy crest and hot oil on the other, she cried, and squirmed against the sheets, her mouth scrunched into a little moue. When he licked the ice water from her body with his warm tongue, she thought she would die from the excess of emoticon.
She begged for more, begged him to go lower. As he did....as he finally touched her swollen lips he tormented her. He drove her so very close to the edge of that precipice that she could feel the pleasure billowing up like the hot embers from a dormant caldera. But she didn’t come. He plunged deep into her. She closed her eyes. She clenched the silk scarves binding her wrists, tight in her fists. And somehow, someway, she managed to cling on. When he pulled out of her though and came on, she lost it.
Whimpering, she came. Hard.
And broke into that smile. She sat back at her keyboard and smiled.
She had never come before while trying not to.
The intensity surprised her. Maybe he knew it would be more intense that way. Maybe he wanted it that way.
:-)
"Oh damn."
It was too late now. She was going to be denied punishment and she knew it. And perhaps, he wanted that all along. And maybe, so did she. When he finished, she was still coming. Whimpering and writhing as her spasms finally subsided. When she calmed down, he rubbed himself over her , gently massaging, not letting her come down. He kept her at a fever pitch. She knew he could take her over the edge again.
But he didn’t.
He got up. "What is that?"
"Oh Master, I'm sorry."
"You won't be punished now," he said flatly.
He reached up to the marker board and wiped it clean, except for one thin line, counting the remission of punishment out loud to her.
That was all. Still tied, still close to coming yet again and now blindfolded again, she heard him walk from the room. She heard the shower. She felt his come dripping between her legs. When, he returned, he untied her, but left the blindfold on. He took her hand and led her from the bedroom. His come dripped down her leg. He tied her wrists behind her.
"Oh, Master....thank you for leaving one punishment," she whispered.
"Yes....that was an oversight," he muttered. She heard him tread towards the board.
"Please Master....please nooooooooo..........................:-)~~"
"You witch................!"
The slate wiped clean he pulled her from the room. Where were they going?
He didn't say a word.
And she knew better than to ask.
Click the icon to return to the index