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“Defiant until the end, are you?”
Instead of immediately attaching them, he squeezed her breasts. Heat shot through her.
“I’m going to stroke your pussy.”
Since he hadn’t instructed her to part her legs or move, she stayed where she was. He plumped one of her breasts while he slid a finger between her labia. She felt herself becoming slicker as he masterfully coaxed a response from her.
“Could you come from just this?”
“I… I imagine I could, Mr Tomlinson.” She wondered if he’d experiment, but he stopped and lowered his hand.
“I want you more aroused when I let you come.”
“Of course, Sir.” She’d been with enough Doms to know that some preferred she wait. Others enjoyed making her come multiple times. In case the evening didn’t go as well as she hoped, she’d packed her trusty vibrator in her overnight bag.
“Ready for the weights?”
“Yes, Mr Tomlinson.”
He grinned at her. “I do like the way that sounds.”
“Don’t get accustomed to it past this evening. At work I’m going to start calling you David.”
“Cheekiness earns you extra spankings.”
“I’m not afraid.”
His smile faded, and once again he was all stern and fierce. Part of her knew she shouldn’t torment him, that it was akin to pulling a tiger’s tail, but this side of her boss intrigued her. At work, she didn’t dare answer back. Her mother’s future hung in the balance. But here… There was a certain freedom in being on footing that they both understood, that had rules. If things felt out of control, she could use her safe word. The truth was, for her, the dynamic they had elsewhere enhanced the scene, adding an air of danger.
Dispassionately, he added the weights. She did a little dance as her nipples were dragged downwards.
“Damn, that’s beautiful,” he said.
“It hurts.”
“When you’re a bit more aroused, you’ll forget about it,” he promised.
Though she knew he was right and she often moved from one set to another at home, having him in charge seemed to magnify the experience. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth.
“Would you like to use your slow word in order to have me remove them?”
Maggie considered his question. She liked being pushed past what she thought she could endure. The pressure was tolerable, and she suspected it would enhance her spanking. And she knew it was one more experience she could relive while she masturbated during the coming weeks. Some things that she had disliked at the time added memorable detail to her fantasies. “Thank you for asking, Mr Tomlinson. I’m fine.”
He fisted the chain and drew her onto her toes. She gasped for air, but damn, it turned her on as well.
“You’re a perfect princess,” he told her.
She closed her eyes, willing herself to surrender rather than struggle against the pain.
Suddenly he released his grip, but he captured her shoulders to steady her as she balanced again on her bare feet.
When she looked at him, she saw his gaze was intent, focused on her face. He had apparently been honest earlier when he’d said he would watch and enjoy her suffering.
Of all the Doms on the planet, she would never have expected to want to please him. But the look of approval in his deep, thoughtful eyes sent a shiver of submissive recognition through her.
“Now for that spanking.”
He took her wrist and drew her with him to the chair. He sat. Her mouth dried. She could ask for a drink of water, but she knew it wouldn’t help. She was parched from the sudden onslaught of trepidation, nothing more. For a moment, just a moment, she wondered if she’d been smart to goad him earlier. Now she was having second thoughts about exposing her buttocks to a man who obviously relished the idea of reddening her skin.
Suddenly this seemed all too real. It was more complex than her usual scene where she would say, ‘I’ve been bad, Sir, please punish me’. Rather, this had the knife-edge of reality added to it.
Releasing her, he said, “Over my knee, Maggie.”
She moved towards him. He offered a hand for support, but he didn’t grip her. Symbolically he was letting her know it was her choice.
