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“Get a pillow. Place it in the center of the foot of the bed, and lay across it on your stomach with your ass propped up.” He gripped the back of my panties and tugged them down, just slightly. “And drop these to your knees when you’re in place.”
I thought I might come from the friction of walking. I was in so much trouble. I wondered when I could reasonably begin begging.
My hands shook as I positioned the pillow as he’d told me. I lay down, taking a slow, deep breath as my warm skin touched the cool white duvet.
He stood at the end of the bed, looking at me, and I wriggled a little as I pulled my panties down. “Just to my knees, Sir?”
“Right...” his fingertips followed my panties from just below the curves of my buttocks, across the ticklish backs of my thighs, to the bend in my knees. “There.”
I squirmed, my breath catching in my throat.
One big, warm hand stroked my back, raising tingles on my spine. When he reached my hips, he lifted his hand, and I tensed for the first blow. But he didn’t spank me. Instead, he gently rubbed his palm over a bare cheek. He abruptly raised his hand again, and again I tensed. I willed myself to relax. It would come.
“How hard do you like it?” he asked, his fingertips skimming along my crack.
“Hard?” I asked uncertainly. “Pretty hard?”
“Like this?” When his hand connected with my backside, it shocked me. It was no love tap, but a stinging hot slap. The pain spread in a delicious halo from the place where he’d smacked me, and I jerked, muffling my groan in the bed.
“Harder or softer?” He leaned down and brushed his lips over the burning spot he’d created.
“Harder,” I whimpered.
“Excuse me?” he asked, affronted.
“Harder, Sir,” I amended. Then, “Harder, please, Sir.”
“Good girl, Sophie.” Another blow fell, definitely rougher than the last. I shouted, a mixed
sound of relief and pain. Neil clucked his tongue. “I am more than happy to spank you exactly
as hard as you wish, but we are in a hotel room. You’ll have to keep your voice down.”
Keep my voice down? I grinned to myself, hiding my face in the bed. Neil didn’t care about the neighbors, if his off-key shower concert had been any indication. I’d read the books; I knew that a Dom might ask a sub to stay quiet as a control exercise.
“Can you spank me again, Sir?” I asked, pumping my hips against the pillow.
This time, the slap he gave me made me yelp loudly in surprise.
“If you can’t stay quiet, I’ll gag you,” he warned. “And don’t tell me how to do my job.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.” And was I ever sorry. I had just learned a pretty important lesson about the difference between a punishment spank and a fun one, I realized.
Neil smoothed his hand over my skin. His fingertips eased between my cheeks, and I held my breath as they skimmed down. “Was that hard enough for you?”
“Yes, Sir,” I moaned, moving my hips just slightly, urging him along.
“Do you need another?” A finger slipped into my cunt. He slowly, easily pushed in, and made a low sound in his throat. “I think you might. Do you want one?”
I did want him to spank me again, but I didn’t want him to stop what he was doing with his fingers.
“Ask me, Sophie. Nicely.”
“Please, Sir.” I gasped and panted, moaned and writhed. His fingers withdrew, tracing my wetness over my slick, swollen labia. He parted me gently, circling the opening of my vagina, dipping in just barely, retreating, dipped in again, deeper, more with each maddeningly slow motion, until my legs were trembling.
Then he stopped, his hand resting in exactly the right place, doing exactly the wrong thing. No movement, no penetration, no friction, and I screamed my frustration into the duvet.
He did spank me then, harder than the last times, and I couldn’t help my cry of mingled pain and fulfilled anticipation.
“I told you to keep quiet.” His fingers withdrew, and with that hand he grabbed my hair and wound a length of it around his fist, jerking my head back. He balled up my sopping panties and pushed them against my mouth.
I had no illusions as to what he was going to do with those panties. I could smell my arousal on them, knew that his fingers were still smeared with my juices even as they tangled in my hair. Never in my life had I felt so dirty, so utterly nasty and depraved. I’d also never been so fucking turned on. I groaned, “Green,” and he pushed my panties into my mouth.
“Remember the signal,” he reminded me, opening and closing his palm before my eyes.
He spanked me again, the sound of his skin on mine making a resounding crack in the quiet hotel room. His fingers pushed into my cunt, and I clenched around him. I was going to come. There was no doubt in my mind. My body was on fire, my hips bucking, a high, thin wail building up in me. All of the thick, hot feelings in my pussy merged into one wave of sensation, and just as the wave was about to crest, he stopped.
