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“Sir,” she murmurs.
My cock throbs incessantly against my thigh, and I rub myself to stave off the desire to pull it out. After all, she’s facing away from me. I can’t be sure though if she can see what I’m doing out of the corner of her eye.
I grab a magazine off the desk and open it, thumbing through it casually as an awkward silence ensues. That’s when I realize I’ve left the newest edition on the bookshelf by the door, and this is the old one. “Camilla, I want you to fetch a magazine off that bookshelf.” I pull my feet off of her.
She moves to stand.
“On all fours.”
Her wide eyes move to my face as if trying to gauge if I’m being serious. “Okay.”
She crawls away from me on her hands and knees with the leash trailing behind her and I damn near lose my mind. Even in the less than sexy SA uniform with the too long skirt, she’s the most alluring thing I’ve ever seen.
Her hips sway in a tempting rhythm as she moves across the dirty classroom floor. Whether on purpose or not, I’m uncertain. Either way, it makes my cock throb as I grab it and rub myself through my pants, trying to give myself some relief.
She has to get out of her kneeling position to reach the magazine as she grabs it off the shelf, but then looks puzzled how to carry it and crawl. I notice her glance toward me for instruction.
“Carry it in your mouth.”
She places the magazine between her teeth and then crawls back toward me, eyes fixed on mine now. As if she’s suddenly found the courage from somewhere to be alluring again. It’s when I notice the way she moves, each time her thighs rub together purposely.
Dirty little girl.
She’s enjoying this, just like the pain. A masochist who loves being degraded. Perhaps I’ve finally met my match. Once she gets back to my side, she waits for me to take the paper.
I tap my hands against my lap. “Bring it right to me, Camilla.”
Her nostrils flare as she glances at my bulging crotch, cheeks getting redder again. And then she moves forward until her chin is practically touching my knees and the magazine is splayed out on top of my lap.
“Good girl,” I murmur.
The flash of desire in her eyes is unmissable as she rubs her thighs together again.
“Back in position.”
She does as she’s told and gets back into the same position, allowing me to slide my feet onto her back. And that’s when I notice the soft, rhythmic movements as she rubs her thighs together in the chase of pleasure.
“No moving,” I bark, knowing I can’t let her have pleasure this time. It’s a punishment, not a fucking reward, but I’m thinking that there is no way to punish Camilla Morrone.
She stills, but the frustration in her expression is clear as she glares back at me.
“And don’t look at your master like that.”
She turns her head, so she’s looking straight ahead and I flick open the magazine, thumbing through it casually. For a good thirty minutes, I keep her in that position, noticing the way her arms tremble as she struggles to hold herself up with the weight of my legs.
I clear my throat and remove my feet. “I think that’ll do for now, Miss Morrone.” I reach forward and undo the collar around her neck, allowing my fingers to brush against her soft skin.
She gasps at the contact, and I feel the sound right to my balls. It’s a sound of pure desire as I let them linger a little longer, before finally pulling the leather away from her skin. “Tell me, Camilla, which punishment was worse?”
“Sir?” she asks, looking a little dazed as stretches her arms out.
“The pain or the degredation?”
Her tongue slides over her full bottom lip, and she looks worried, as if she might say the wrong thing.
“There’s no right or wrong answer to the question,” I confirm.
“It’s hard to say. They were both equally confusing.”
