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I’ve never actually been spanked before. I can’t believe how it’s making my ass burn and throb.
Callum told me to hold still, but I can’t. I can’t help flinching away from the next blow, squeezing my legs together and squirming on the hard surface of his trousered-thighs.
This is having its own embarrassing effect.
I am naked, after all. The squeezing and squirming of my bare flesh against the fine wool of Callum’s trousers are creating a whole lot of friction in very inconvenient places . . .
My nipples are rock-hard inside my bra. I can feel warmth and wetness between my thighs. I can’t see it, but I suspect that my cheeks are burning as red as my ass.
I stop struggling, mostly because I don’t want to make myself any more inadvertently excited than I already am. I also don’t want Callum to notice. It’s fucking humiliating. If he realizes the effect this is having on me, I’ll never be able to look him in the face again.
But he already knows. He’s so goddamned perceptive. The moment I stop fighting him, the moment my breath changes, and I tense up, he stops the spanking. He pauses for a moment, his heavy palm resting on my throbbing buttocks.
Then he starts kneading my ass, gently.
The rubbing feels unutterably good. It’s like the time I stole one of Dante’s special brownies and ate the whole thing before getting a massage. Each squeeze of Callum’s hand sends pulses of pleasure running down my neurons, making them glow like a string of Christmas lights.
Without meaning to, I moan and press my thighs against the outside of Callum’s leg.
“You like that?” he growls, his voice lower and rougher than ever.
His fingertips dance down the crevice of my ass, slipping between my thighs to find confirmation of what he already suspects. Sure enough, his fingers slide easily across the slick surface of my cunt.
“I thought so,” he breathes.
Without warning, he plunges two fingers inside of me. I let out a deep, desperate groan. The inside of my pussy is so swollen and warm that those fingers are the most pleasurable thing that’s ever been inside me. They feel tailor-made, super-powered, as custom-fit as one of Imogen’s fucking cabinets.
Callum slides his fingers in and out, enjoying the anxious, pleading sounds I’m making around the gag.
Oh my god I want to be fucked.
I want it so bad I feel like I could be willing to die after, if I could only get what I need for five straight minutes.
“Look what you did.”
Callum touches the wound on his left arm. When he brings his fingertips down in front of my face, I can see that they’re shining with fresh blood.
“I’ve had enough of you flying off the handle,” Callum says. “It ends tonight. From now on, you’re going to be the wife I was promised. Helpful. Useful. Obedient.”
Hooking his arms under my body, Callum stands up, lifting me off his knees. He throws me face-down on the bed, wrists still bound behind my back and knees bent under me, so my ass is pointed up in the air.
I hear a button popping and a zipper going down. Callum’s strong, warm hands grip my hips, the right one disappearing momentarily as Callum lines his cock up with my entrance, then returning again.
He rams inside of me with one thrust of his hips. He goes all the way in, bottoming out with the front of his thighs flush against the back of mine. He grips my hips tight, letting his cock stay fully sheathed, so deep that I feel the head throbbing against my cervix.
Only then does he pull out again, almost all the way, before thrusting all the way back in.
He does this several times, letting me appreciate the full length of his cock. Then he starts fucking me hard. Harder and faster, our bodies slamming together with a sound not as sharp as the spankings, but much more rapid and insistent.
To be desperately aroused and then aggressively serviced like this is just so . . . satisfying. On the level of popsicles on a hot day, or a bratty kid falling on their face. I am at peak happiness. I don’t just want this. I fucking need it.
But then Callum really starts to torture me.
He reaches around my hip and finds my clit with his fingers. He lightly teases me with his fingertips, then gradually starts to increase the pressure.
I’m panting and moaning into the gag, trying to buck my hips to get more pressure on just the right spot.
Callum isn’t giving it to me. He knows what I want, but he’s denying it.
