Jennifer said nothing, but she raised her bottom further for me. She wanted more stroking and soothing, but more than that as well. Her thighs were as far apart as she could manage, her pussy wet and undeniably wanting.
She’d been close to orgasm for most of her punishment, and though those six last strokes had been challenging they hadn’t overridden the sex, the need of it. So I coated and rubbed her bottom, not gently but firmly, and she gave herself into my hands, sometimes sighing with the sensations she was processing.
At last I touched her pussy again, thumb inside a wet, sopping girl, and my palm against her clitoris. It took her a minute to find her place, where she’d been before the last six strokes, and another thirty seconds of writhing on my hand before she stopped suddenly. I said, “Jennifer, it’s all right, you can come now.”
Her scream was louder than the loudest noise she’d made while being punished. I kept working my thumb and palm. In another minute she came again, at the same intensity. Then her head dropped, hitting the table audibly.
I kept on stroking her, but she was done for now, and exhausted. I let her lie across my desk for a minute, then patted her bottom. Jennifer was extremely sensitive, after eighteen of the best with the slipper, but she was unable to feel any touch as pain. Everything, it seemed, was dreamily erotic.
I said, “Jennifer, I’m going to pick you up. So I have to roll you over.” That was to let her know what I was doing. She was incapable of helping, for the time being. So I rolled her onto her back, and put my arms under her shoulders and the backs of her thighs, and lifted.
I carried her to the leather arm chair and sat down, holding her cradled in my arms. She looked at me with a slight smile, so I kissed her. I hadn’t expected her to respond but she did, not urgently but lovingly. I said, “Maddie, bring a blanket.”
Maddie nodded and opened the door into the storeroom. While she was gone I looked down at Jennifer, naked, dreamy, and beautiful in my arms. “How’s your bottom?”
She pulled a face and then smiled. “It’s weird. I know it’s sore, and very hot. But it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the slippering you gave me yesterday. In fact I’m not even sure that it hurt at all. It’s warm. And it sort of buzzes. But it’s like it’s got a hotline to my cunt. Oh! I shouldn’t say that word! Sorry, sir.”
“Can I say pussy? Because I stroke it sometimes.” She looked at me, suddenly pretending to be shy. “And so do you.”