Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
I thought of the first time we’d had sex at the W and about his gloved hands as he walked through the door to find me fingering myself on the sofa. He’d stood in front of me, taking those gloves off by loosening one finger at a time, while I’d lain there helpless in my desire.
“I think you’re…very creative, Sir,” I managed, when what I really wanted to say was, “Spank me, spank me, spank me, Sir.” If I tried to boss him around, I wouldn’t be getting far tonight.
He pulled the other glove on, the wriggling of his fingers making the leather creak. “That’s a yes, then?”
“Yes, Sir.” Now, I couldn’t help myself. “Please spank me, Sir. I’ve been a very good girl.”
His leather-covered palm connected with my backside, and I gasped a little “ah!” of excitement. The impact tingled all the way down to my toes, and I flexed them deliciously.
This was the point of the night when the pain I would receive was a delightful promise. It wouldn’t be long now and I’d be hating and loving every intense second, but the first few slaps were like gentle foreplay.
Well, maybe not gentle. He jerked my dress up to my waist and really let his hand fly on the next one, hitting me so hard that my body rocked. I would have spilled off his lap if he didn’t have me held captive by a hand at my waist.
I took a deep breath as he stroked the cool leather over the burning handprint he’d no doubt left on my aching ass. He landed another blow in the same spot, and I gritted my teeth.
Inexperienced Doms sometimes hit the same spot over and over out of ignorance. They just didn’t think of the fact that, if they moved their strikes around, playtime could last a lot longer. When Neil did it, though, it was always on purpose. I’d asked him for marks; he was going to make me suffer for each one.
The next slap landed across the super painful zone where my buttock and my thigh met in a crease. I hadn’t been expecting it—I knew better than to try to guess where he’d strike next—and I yelped. One of the benefits of having a huge house is that you don’t have to worry about noise from other rooms. The way this place was insulated, every room was practically a recording studio. Still, I made a conscious effort to be silent on the next hard smacks.
“You’re tense,” Neil growled in admonishment. The glove scraped a searing kiss across my burning skin before he struck me again. “And distracted.” The next one was harder. “And you’re letting trivial concerns intrude.” Two smacks, so hard I couldn’t help the cry I made.
“Up,” he commanded, helping me to my feet. He stood and steadied me with a hand that lingered at my waist as he moved past. “Wait here.”
Without the warmth of him pressed to me, I noticed how cool the room was. The air held enough chill that my raw ass definitely felt it, and I shivered.
Neil went to his side of the bed and picked up the remote control to turn on the built-in sound system. Neil had an entire playlist devoted to our scenes. He preferred music with a dark, slinky beat. When Gotye’s “Hearts a Mess” filled the air, my cunt clenched; we’d fucked to the song so many times before, it was like a Pavlovian response.
Music could do for submission what it does for studying. I instantly focused, even the movement of the air alerting me to his presence behind me. When he came back to the bed and sat, I sank gratefully into my former position.
The distraction worked. I slipped so easily into my submissive state of mind that I was content to lay there and take slap after stinging slap. Some blows were hard, driving the pain deep into the muscle. Others were almost gentle, and delayed so long that the pain was in the waiting.
The leather cracked against my flesh again and again; he was rarely this rough with a barehanded spanking. The gloves certainly gave his palm some protection. But wearing them seemed to help him achieve a distance that he couldn’t when we usually played. It almost hurt worse than the paddle.
Tears streamed down my face, and my chest ached with the sobs that would have crushed me if most of my weight hadn’t been supported on the bed. I gasped and cried and pleaded until I was near the breaking point. The moment I thought I couldn’t take anymore, he finished with one sharp slap and urged me to sit up. I cried out at that pain, too. I had no idea how long we’d been at it; a half hour at least. The slightest pressure burned.