Page 39 of João
In a faraway place, the buzz started again, and I welcomed and dreaded what came next.
“What do you want, minha rainha?” The thread of desperation in Master’s question granted me the boldness I needed.
“I want your touch. I want you to spank me for being bad.”
“Nah, you’d like that too much. How is that punishment?”
“But the lines…I like doing them. I…”
“You do, I guessed you would, but you hate not being touched, don’t you?” Master flexed his leg, stretching one over the other. So much beautiful dark thickness in front of me. So close, but so far away. His touch would make this right. His touch would make this whole.
“I hate it, Master. Please, can you please come touch me?”
“No,” Master said with such finality I whimpered. The wand caught me by surprise, the vibration stronger than before. This time he let me have it.
“Ahhhh! Master, I…ohhhh…”
The contact triggered full-body shivers as my pussy lips became a slippery mess against the wand. Master, finding the perfect rhythm, moved the stick up and down in little jerks that stimulated my clit. The head of the wand slipped and slid, heating me up, making me moan. My lines became a mess of smudged ink as I held onto the board, needing its support as the wand castigated me with unrelenting pleasure.
“Master, I want to come, please. Master…”
The chuckle that reverberated in the room made the hairs of my arms lift in attention. The air grew tangible, holding me upward in a cloud of gas. Master became a blur. The marker slipped from my slack hand to the floor. I could only hold onto the board and let him tease me to death.
“You won’t come right now. Not here, at least,” he taunted, the unmitigated delight in his voice unmistakable.
“Please, I won’t do it again. I’ll talk to you, I will.”
“I know you will because I’m making certain tonight you get what it means to not follow my rules. You want to come, menina?” João stood up with the remote in his hand, a prowler ready to play with his prey.
“I do, please, Master.” Maybe pressing my forehead to the board would help. The wand went up in intensity, and the obscene noises coming from between my legs would have made me blush but I was past caring about anything but my orgasm. I needed it so bad.
“Oh, I know you need it so bad,” he growled, and I realized I’d said that out loud. My brain functioned in a different format that I couldn’t recognize. Everything expanded in sight, smell, touch, sound. Matter became a mere concept; everything was interconnected. My flesh, the soft floor, the vibrating wand—all one ball of energy that threatened to explode into a thousand particles.
When the wand stopped and the buzz cut off, accentuating my desperate moans, I didn’t cry out. I floated away, my body denied that sweet release of wetness and pressure, power and carnality. I wouldn’t get to feel that tonight, but my brain? My brain bloomed, all the energy coalescing together as I took my punishment as I should.
Finally, I fully submitted, accepting that my Master knew better.
At this moment, he knew better, and I trusted him a thousand percent.
the sub drop
JOÃO
Gisele had explicitly asked for us to craft her aftercare together.
“How could I know what I need? I’ve never experienced that kind of high,” she’d said then.
Fucking luck.
I hadn’t understood what she meant until subspace claimed her, right before my eyes. Gisele had protested the absence of my touch, restless and aching—until the moment it clicked. Breath caught in my throat as realization settled over her like silk: the denial wasn’t cruelty, it was care. The punishmentwasthe obedience. Taking it wasn’t just endurance—it was devotion.
And when that truth lit up her face? Fucking gorgeous.
My hands gathered moisture as I detached her delicate ankles from the bar. Her soft skin, warm to the touch, vibrated against my callused fingers. Velvety strength, the hard bone underneath unyielding. How beautiful would this mahogany ankle look adorned with a pure gold anklet with my initials?
Unable to avoid touching her, I soothed her and myself by ghosting my fingers up her calf, past her knees, on the outside of her thigh until I grabbed her hip, steadying her in her high.
Her loopy smile, slightly opened mouth, and unfocused gaze tested every ounce of my restraint. To kiss Gisele, savor her clean flavor, drag my tongue over her plump bottom lip down her neck, detour toward her hard nipples, reaching out from their strained cover. I wanted to travel down her soft belly back to my knees until I could taste her alluring, earthy flavor—the essence of queen and smokiness. I’d taste her first as the finest whiskey to ever touch my palate, slick tongue against drenched plushness until she screamed my name and had the physical release I denied her today.
