Page 26 of The Count

I swallowed as a sudden panic washed over me. What had I done?

“Do as you’re told,” he demanded.

Without thinking, my body did as he commanded. Slowly, I rolled to my belly, lifted my hips, and dragged my knees beneath me. He took a long time to admire me in such a vulnerable position. I stopped breathing when his fingers brushed the backs of my thighs and I stifled a moan as he slowly dragged them upward, taking the soft fabric of my nightshirt with him.

He bared my backside slowly. He found me naked underneath.

“Very naughty, little girl,” he observed. My entire body shivered. It felt like I had been waiting forever to hear him say those words again.

His palm grazed over my bare left cheek and an aroused shiver cascaded over every inch of my flesh. My clit pulsed as if it recognized him, and I sucked in a heated breath.

“Did you think you wouldn’t get caught?”

I didn’t answer because I didn’t want to give away the fact that I’d hoped for this exact outcome.

A sharp slap echoed through the room. I had expected it to sting. I remember it hurting a lot, but it stung so much more than that distant memory. A second one followed, and I yelped out loud.

Was he watching his handprint appear on my pale skin?

His hand descended between my thighs, and I cried out as he touched the place I’d been imagining him touching again for weeks.

“Is this what you wanted, bad girl? Did you need me to touch you here? To remind you that you need to be obedient? For me?”

His words were intoxicating. I found myself hanging onto every syllable and before I knew it, I was rubbing my clit against his thick fingers.

“I know how to deal with you,little girl.”

He had said it again and my heart swelled with terror, comfort, and hope.

“Please,” I begged.

I expected him to touch me, to rub my clit and make me come this way with his handprint on my bottom, maybe even fuck me after it was over, but he did none of those things.

He spanked my pussy instead, not once like last time, but a real spanking directly on my most sensitive place.

The first slap caught me off guard. My eyes opened as wide as saucers and I squeaked with surprise, but the second followed soon after. He used the flats of his fingers to punish my wet sensitive flesh and at once, that sense of panic grew and grew until there was nothing but my stinging pussy and the humiliating sound of his hand slapping wet flesh.

I squirmed, trying to bring my thighs together in hopes of protecting myself, but he pinned my legs open with his other arm.

He punished my pussy ruthlessly.

It stung so much worse than a spanking on my naked bottom. I begged and cried for mercy, but he didn’t stop until my entire pussy burned with red-hot fire. I bit back cry after cry, but it was useless.

When he finally paused, I tried to catch my breath, but I was too overcome by the stinging in between my thighs to do anything else.

“Arch your back. Show me that bright red little pussy,” he demanded.

I obeyed immediately, afraid of what would happen if I didn’t.

His fingers stroked up and down my scalded flesh. Just that light touch stung.

He used his fingers to spread open my folds, exposing my clit. Without warning, he slapped it three times. That hurt worse than anything but once it was over, my needy bud throbbed with stinging pain and greedy desire.

I wailed, suffering and holding my position simply because I thought that he would expect it of me.

“Bad girls get sent to bed with very wet, very needy little pussies. They don’t get to come,” he growled.

“Yes, sir,” I cried. My pussy was throbbing, yet I could still feel my wetness dripping down onto my thighs. He slid his fingers through it. He could see it too.

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