She swallowed hard and arched her back. The delicate chain between the nipple clamps slid across her chest.
I watched her touch herself, tentatively at first, then more boldly. After a few minutes, she eased down into the naughtiness of it, her hips moving in concert with her fingers. Our eyes met and held. “How does that feel, baby?” I asked. “Does it feel good?”
“Yes,” she said, then, “No. The clamps hurt.”
“If you want them off, you have to come, don’t you? Like a good girl.”
“Yes. Yes, Sir, but…it hurts.”
Her fingers were working harder now, faster. “How much does it hurt? Tell me. Does your pussy feel full and wet? Does the pain make you hot? Is it an aching, needy throb?”
“Yes,” she gasped. “It feels so good. I want to come so badly.”
“Come on, baby. I’m not letting you close your legs. Not ever. Not until you come for me. Close your eyes and think about what you have coming to you. This is going to be a long afternoon for poor little Ashleigh.” Don’t call her a bad girl. Don’t call her a bad girl. My cock was rock hard in my fist. What little control I had was focused on not plunging into her pussy. “You can come, but that’s just going to be the beginning for you. I want you to come for me now. I’m not taking those clamps off until you’re gushing against my hand.”
“Oh…”
She was almost there, lost in the throes of fantasy and pleasure and pain, a combination I loved myself. I took a risk then… I touched her. I cupped her mons and slipped one finger inside her, up inside the tight wetness I wanted more than life itself. Make me. Just make me do it. God, I wanted to, so badly. “Come on,” I gasped. “Come for me, so I can give you what you deserve.”
She cried out and screwed her eyes shut, arching her chest. I pumped my finger in and out of her spasming pussy, kneeling over her braced on my arms, and I stayed that way through her luscious orgasm. She opened her eyes and stared up at me. I was fully over her, my legs braced over her legs, practically mounting her. She went very still. I stroked her pussy one last time. “So beautiful,” I said. “That was so beautiful.” I stroked a hand down her face. “Are you afraid?”
She thought a moment and shook her head. “Not right now. No, sir.”
My lips spread in a wide smile. “That’s progress then. Good girl.”
*** *** ***
I stared at Liam above me with a kind of wonder. Good girl. I loved being his good girl. It was such a relief not to feel like the bad girl anymore. He was over me, naked, and I wasn’t freaking out, not in the slightest. I was getting better.
I was also getting a spanking.
With silent, stern determination, he rocked back and pulled me across his legs, and smacked my butt with his big slab of a hand. I was so dazed from the afterglow of my orgasm, all I noticed was that it hurt. Then he spanked my ass again and I realized that it really fucking hurt. “Oh. Ow!”
I tried to roll away from him but he only caught me and delivered another spank.
“Owwww… Please, that’s so painful.”
“Oh? Not what you fantasized about?”
Oh my God. Ouch. He never made punishments feel good. Not only was his hand the size of a tennis racket, but he wasn’t letting me catch my breath between smacks. I wailed and bucked off of him, for all the good it did me. When I reached back to block his hand, he trapped it and secured it up between my shoulder blades.
“You earned this punishment by being snarky and sassy to me, didn’t you?” he asked.
“Yes, but I didn’t realize—” I gasped. “I didn’t think—” I went limp over his lap. “I didn’t think your hand would hurt this much.”
He caressed over my blazing ass, squeezing it like he owned it. “I have big, evil hands, Ash. But we can try a paddle if you like. Paddle punishments are good for curing smart mouths.”
He helped me to my feet. I rubbed my bottom, feeling dazed and concerned and weirdly horny for a woman who’d just gotten off a few minutes ago. My breasts ached. Now that I’d come, the nipple clamps turned from sexy to torturous. “Please, can I take off the clamps?” I asked in my most respectful and begging submissive voice.
“You never take off the clamps. I take them off when I think you’ve had enough. Bend over the bed. Arms out to the side, legs spread.”
I parted them a little on my own, hoping he wouldn’t spread them more if I obeyed him promptly. But when he put his hands on me, it wasn’t to spread my legs, but to grope through the wetness at my center. I muffled a cry against the bedcover, but I wasn’t really protesting. I was trying to understand. Or trying to come to terms with the fact that this powerful, kind of scary man was touching me sexually, almost violently while I was powerless, and I only wanted more.
He left me and went to the dresser, returning with a small paddle. Or maybe it just looked small compared to him. I moaned as he leaned over me and pulled my arms out straighter.
He stepped back. I buried my head in the covers, afraid to look.
“Ready?”
“No, not reall— Oh God!” The paddle hurt every bit as much as his hand. I was never, ever, ever being a smartass to him again. I was going to be the poster-child for respectful submissives. “Oh, please,” I cried as he whacked me. The sting was a solid burn across my backside, fading away to a throbbing afterglow. My ass was already on fire from the spanking and my nipples hurt worse now that they were pressed against the bed.
“Oh, no more, please,” I cried.
“A few more,” he said. “To really drive the point home.”
“But really…please. Liam… Owww!” I squeezed my eyes shut against the spreading pain. “I have really learned my lesson. Absolutely learned it. It’s not worth it to smart off to you.”
“I’m glad you’ve realized that. You can smart off to me”—Crack!—“just not in this room, when we’re doing a session.”
“I won’t! Ow!”
“Because this is about you getting better. It’s serious. It’s a matter we both need to approach with respect.”
“Yes, Sir,” I cried out as two or three smacks fell in succession. Yes, yes, I’ll respect you forever. Just, please, that really hurts.
He paused and rubbed my ass, intensifying the burn. I wanted him to grope me again but at the same time I knew this wasn’t sexy time. This was time for Ashleigh to pay the price for real and imagined faults.
“Five more,” he said. “I want you to count them.”
The last five just about pushed me past my limit, by design, I’m sure. By the time he finished I was bawling onto the pristine blue bedspread, and both my hands were full of scrunched up, sweaty fabric.
He put the paddle away and eased onto the bed next to me. “Come here,” he said, his legs tangling with mine. I lay in his arms, a limp, sniffling, ass-aching submissive. He turned me onto my back when I tried to shrink into him.
“Close your eyes,” he said.
I did at once, chastened sub that I was. He took off the nipple clamps and tingling discomfort flooded my breasts. I put my hands over my nipples. “Ow.”
“Okay,” he said, gathering me against him. “The punishment’s all done.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered into the hollow of his neck. “I’m sorry for being bratty.”
He reached down and grabbed a handful of my sore ass cheeks. “Don’t be too sorry. I enjoy punishing you. You know that, right?” He eased a gentle fingertip between us to tweak my nipple. “Tender?”
I was, but I deserved it. I didn’t know why I’d pulled the attitude with him. I guess because I was falling for him and I wasn’t supposed to. My tears had mostly dried up, replaced with a relaxed, wrung-out feeling. I cuddled closer to him, nestling my thigh against his half-erect cock. I loved how careful he was with me. I loved that he didn’t pressure me, that he was waiting so patiently for me to be ready.
I knew we were supposed to be focused on my sex issues, on fixing me, but more and more, I fantasized about h