Tormented

She met his gaze. “You could fuck me, Master.”

He was tempted to do just that right now. Flip her over the back of the nearest chair and drive himself into that sweet, sweet cunt.

“Is that it?” he asked.

“And I could give you lots and lots of blow jobs.”

He went to stand before her. He cradled a few of her braids in his hand. “With most of my subs, blow jobs are a reward, not a punishment, given after they’re begging for my cock.”

“You want me to beg, Master? I’ll beg.”

Her frequent address of him as “Master” surprised him, but he liked it. “Anything else you want to add to your punishment, pet?”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s a decent punishment. I think your ideas are good ones.”

She let out a soft breath.

“But I do want to mix it up with a few ideas of my own.”

Her relief turned to alarm. “Like what?”

He passed his fingers over the area of her collar and between her breasts. “You’ll see.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out her knickers and took a whiff. They smelled of her.

“They’re a bit damp,” he told her. “As you won’t be using any safe words tonight, you can hold on to these.”

Taking her by the jaw, he opened her mouth and stuffed the undergarment inside.

“So pretty,” he murmured. “Go lay on the bed.”

She did as told. He returned with several items, including a short cord of rope that he wrapped around her mouth to secure the knickers in place.

“I’m not going to tie you down,” he said, “since you said earlier today that you were going to be a good pet. Spread your legs.”

Gingerly, she parted her legs. He eyed the luscious flesh between before putting his thumb to her clit, encouraging it to emerge farther. Taking a narrow tube, he applied lubricant to the edge and fit it over the clit. He attached a small handheld motor to the top of the tube and turned it on, pulling the air out and sucking her clit into the glass. Her lashes fluttered quickly, and her chest heaved up and down. He detached the motor and tapped on the tube. She whimpered.

“On your knees,” he instructed.

While she got into position, he went to grab a spreader bar. He pulled her hands between her legs and cuffed her ankles and wrists into the spreader bar. She looked amazing with her legs spread, her arse in the air, the side of her face pressed into the mattress, red satin adorning her mouth, the glass tube dangling from her clit.

He rubbed a buttock. Such a nice piece of arse. He liked booty that had padding, had never liked scrawny booties or bodies that looked like jailbait. Kimani was the perfect balance of athleticism and feminine suppleness.

He slapped the cheek he caressed. She tensed. The pink and wrinkled hole between her buttocks teased him. He couldn’t wait to sink into that naughty opening.

He spanked the other cheek.

“Mmmph,” she mumbled.

He spanked her harder, relishing the smacking sound, then went to get the wooden paddle with holes. He kneaded the flesh, preparing it for the first blow.

She grunted into her panty-gag at the first whack, then yelped at the second. The third one made her scream. He saw her squeeze her eyes shut.

“How many do you think you merit?” he asked as he rubbed where he had struck.

She mumbled something that sounded like “I don’t know.”