Page 58 of Objection
I knew I was barking orders at her, but I didn’t care. I needed this. I needed that pretty blush to spread down clear to her toes. I needed her quivering and whimpering in embarrassed need for me.
I spread her cheeks apart.
She tried to sit up, nervous.
“I fucking said stay!” I bared, pushing her down harder into the cold granite. “This body is mine.” My hands moved over her ass, pulling her round cheeks apart and looking at her most intimate of places. I knew this was new to her. I knew it wasn’t easy. But she stayed. And she obeyed. And I burned alive.
I let one finger slide through her wetness, carrying it back to her tight hole that I had never touched. I was half convinced it had never been touched by anyone. That thought had me clenching my fists, trying with everything I had not to push her into letting me fuck that tight little asshole as soon as possible. But I knew that was something that required far more discussion and even more preparation.
“Be a good girl, and go get yourself ready in the playroom. I will be along shortly. Tonight, we will be pushing further than before. I promise to keep you safe.” I helped her to stand upright again and watched her walk towards the stairs on shaky legs. Delightful.
I took a few deep breaths before finishing loading the dishwasher. This girl was going to be my undoing if I wasn’t careful. I needed to keep my wits about me.
When I entered the playroom, it was like watching a scene out of a movie. There was almost no speaking. I walked slowly to her. She kept her kneeling pose as I placed her play collar around her neck as I attached each cuff.
She shifted into each pose I placed her in with grace and ease as I inspected her body. I touched her. I played with her most sensitive places with a light touch meant to entice and draw out her need. She quivered for me. She let loose light, quiet gasps of delight and surprise.
We let the dance grow between us. Where I ebbed, she flowed. Where I pushed, she followed. It was beautiful. It held me captivated and enthralled in her graceful submission.
“Follow.” Each command I had given had been but a word. A word she obeyed without hesitation.
I helped her onto the spanking bench, the loud sound of the carabiners clipping her cuffs into place seeming to echo in the near silent room. The sounds of our breathing loud and full in the stillness.
I had considered playing music, but this was something else. Music wasn’t needed. We were both here, present, and falling deeper into the scene without any caution.
“Trust me,” I whispered, my hands moving over her skin softly as I soothed her. I placed the blindfold over her eyes, giving her long moments to adjust before I whispered again, “Trust me.” I placed the earbuds in her ears.
I was removing her senses, wanting her to focus solely on me. My hands soothed until I felt her body melt beneath my touch.
My movements felt like a dance, our touch never ending.
My soft touches morphed into sharp as my nails drug over her skin.
The sharp spikes of the Wartenberg pinwheel following my nails. Then my soothing touch again.
Back and forth, I played with her sensations.
Her gasps turned into moans, then back to gasps.
She melted, tensed, melted again.
My hands struck, spanking her soft flesh until it reddened beneath me.
Tense. Melt. Tense.
Faster.
Harder.
Tense. Melt. Tense.
Faster.
Harder.
Tense. Melt. Tense.
My hits changed from spanks to the paddle. From the paddle to the crop.
