Note re Wicked Wednesday prompt: If I ran an erotic site, it would feature content a little like… this.
Content temporarily removed.
Note re Wicked Wednesday prompt: If I ran an erotic site, it would feature content a little like… this.
Content temporarily removed.
The previous episode is here.
The story so far is that I took my slavegirl Arethusa to the local bdsm club, Club Bento, after months of begging.
It took months because I was monitoring her university work, and she kept fucking up and having to be caned, and then grounded. Finally, she was good, handing in all essays and studying for her tests, for a whole month! A Master’s life is hard, but at last I could reward her!
We met Delores there, an ex of mine, who was showing the club to a girl called Cash, who turned out to be yet another ex.
Cash was Qing, when I’d first known her, and she was still dressing like a mainlander Chinese girl from a small city. Because back then she was. (You should hear what diaspora Chinese say about mainlanders. Hollywood writers being rude about the deep South doesn’t even come close.)
In the years since we’d lost touch she’d transformed herself into a zippy, leatherette, platinum blonde bobbed style icon, who moved at twice the speed of everyone else, though I bet she had less amphetamine in her system than most people there.
So we all met, and I introduced Arethusa to Delores and Cash. Cash and Arethusa contracted a case of lust at first sight, while Arethusa and Delores didn’t hit it off.
I took Arethusa into the dark part of the club, to feed her champagne while fingering her under her tutu, keeping her close to coming but not giving permission.
Delores went looking for a man to bruise and fuck her. Cash picked up a girl on the dancefloor, and dragged her off to the women’s toilets to facefuck her up against the wall. Then Cash went back to gthe dancing, followed by the girl, who was smitten, and then by the girl’s master, who sensed a threesome.
Cash didn’t want any part of his body anywhere near her body, but she wanted to be polite, for the girl’s sake more than his. So she said she’d love to, but she’d have to get permission from her Mistress.
Now read on.
The Kiss 7
Delores (now we’re following this story from her point of view again) was also a girl who’d come from a small town, but she’d never re-packaged herself as a big-city girl the way Cash had.
She still thought it weird that girls might want sexy stuff with girls, when there are men around. She had many lesbian and gay friends, who loved her and who she loved. She genuinely was not a bigot. It was just she had no perspective from which same-sex desire made any sense to her.
Similarly, she was submissive and that’s that. She was assertive in her life, with her children and her work and so on, but in a bdsm context she couldn’t switch to save her life. She could no more spank another submissive, or give one an order, than she could flap her arms and fly.
So she was a bit taken aback when Cash raced up to her, kissed her passionately on the lips, and whispered, “I’m going to call you Mistress and ask you for something. You have to answer no. Save my life. Ok? Just say no!”
So Delores wiped the girl-kiss off her lips, and said, “Just say no… What? To drugs?”
But the dazed girl and her Master arrived. Out loud, Cash said, “Mistress, darling Mistress, can I please go off with these two tonight?”
So Delores, still thoroughly confused, saw the girl and her Master, there waiting for her permission, which gave her an inkling of the problem. So she gathered up all her wits, and said in the most Dommely voice she could manage, “No.”
Cash whined, “Pleeeeease?”
“No. No, you may not go off with… these two tonight.” It was the most unconvincing domme voice ever heard, according to both Delores’s and Cash’s account, but it was enough to disappoint the dazed girl and her Master. They were sad, but they knew they’d won Cash over, and their threesome had only been thwarted by the despotic and arbitrary rulings of a jealous and mean ol’ Domme.
At least, they thought they knew that, and that made them feel better. So they slunk back onto the dancefloor, and paid more attention to each other. They’d both just been certified sexy, by an independent party. The girl more than her Master, but his honour was satisfied.
Meanwhile Delores was still giving Cash the thousand-yard stare. “What,” she asked, “the buggering hell was that about?”
So Cash explained, the pick-up on the dancefloor had led to Cash fucking the girl with her face, in the women’s toilets, and the girl’s Master wanting Cash to go off with them, and she didn’t want the Master to get shitty with his girl because she’d scored with Cash and he hadn’t.
So she’d done the right thing to get everybody out of a difficult situation.
And hey, thanks for your help, Delores, that “no” of yours was really powerful, just like the real thing.
But Delores hadn’t got past the “face-fuck in the toilets” part of Cash’s story yet. “And… you kissed me with THAT mouth?”
Obviously, that’s where that story has to end. More events happened, when Arethusa and Cash and I went off together a bit later, and our night together. That was a steamy night, and some time it’ll make a good story too. In a different way.
But next Wicked Week, I’m going back to fiction, and Maddie’s saga with her Wicked Headmaster.
The previous instalment of this story is here. But we finished with Cash having girl on girl sex kisses with another girl on the dancefloor, then racing her off into the Women’s toilets.
Because Delores didn’t go in after them, we’re going to switch to Cash’s point of view for the next half hour or so of this story.
Cash in the Women’s
Cash had a starry-eyed girl in tow, hand in hand. The wide-eyed girl had never done anything girl on girl before, but music, dance, alcohol and Cash’s irresistible energy had turned her on, massively, and she was very keen to experience whatever happened next.
Cash had liked Arethusa, and fancied her. The knowledge that she was invited into Arethusa’s and my bed, some time early in the morning, or later that night, was exciting too. But in the meantime she had a pretty girl, obviously submissive, wanting her attention. So she grabbed the girl’s hair at the back of her head and kissed her again.
Club Bento isn’t the sort of place where anyone, including straight women, will mind the sight of two pretty girls making out. So the starry-eyed girl got compliments for being a good girl for her Mistress.
Cash never even asked that girl’s name, and never knew it, but she did know that the girl was finding the compliments mildly humiliating and hot as fuck, all at once. So she upped the ante and pushed her up against the wall. She flipped up the girl’s little tartan skirt, and pulled her panties down. The girl closed her eyes. Once the panties were at her knees, Cash pushed them down to her ankles with her boot, and kissed her again, with her hand on, and then partly in, her cunt.
Club Bento isn’t a sex-on-premises venue, by the way. If a bouncer had found them they’d have been thrown out for putting the club’s licence at risk.
But the bouncers didn’t go into the loos, or the seating in the dark where the girl next to me had just sucked her Master off, and I was using Arethusa as my cunt-puppet, still at the edge of coming with three of my fingers in her, but not allowed to come. Or make a sound.
Cash stroked the girl, who was now wild-eyed and trembling, until she was nearly ready. At the last second she dropped to her knees, and finished the girl off with her tongue and lips, getting her face quite thoroughly wet. Eventually the girl moaned, then shouted, her arms flat against the wall as if she were being crucified, and she fell forward, onto Cash’s back, moaning, stroking her and calling her mistress.
But Cash was done, for now. She stood up, kissed the girl, face shiny-wet with her fluids, and helped her with her panties. She said, “You’re really cool! And fucking pretty! But I’ve got to dance now.”
Cash left, and the girl followed her out: she was a bit dazed, and she wanted more of that sort of thing. And she, the girl, bumped into her Master, who’d seen her go into the toilets with another girl, and knew something good was happening that he wasn’t part of. But now the two girls were out, and one of them was his submissive, and there was another girl with her. He knew he had a threesome lined up.
But he didn’t. He was a little softer-bellied than Cash liked, and he had unfashionable hair. So this dom spanked his submissive, standing up, for going off without him. And then he said to Cash, “Come with us.” He was using the command voice to someone who hadn’t submitted to him, and for Cash that absolutely confirmed his complete unfuckability.
The scene in the toilets may make Cash seem a little heartless, but she’s not that at all. She was just living in the moment. So she knew that if she turned the guy down, he’d take it out on his girl, and she’d have a horrible night instead of the brilliant one she’d been having until then.
She remembered seeing Delores, just before going into the toilets. “Yes, that’d be great,” she said, politely. “I’ll just ask have to ask my Mistress for permission.”
[To be continued]
The story so far…
I take my loved slave Arethusa to Club Bento, a bdsm nightclub. I meet an ex-submissive of mine, Delores, who is showing the club to Cash, who turns out also to be an ex of mine.
(If you spend enough time being a really dedicated slut, as I had been before Arethusa, then the chances of you having had sex with at least two or three people in any given nightclub in your city starts to approach 100%. The same applies to bdsm sex and bdsm nightclubs.)
Arethusa and Cash eye each other off, and it’s agreed, non-verbally, that Cash, Arethusa and I are bound for my bed, some time in the early hours of the morning. But Cash goes off dancing, then Delores goes looking for a dom to bruise and fuck her that evening. Arethusa and I go and get lovey-dovey in a dark area where there are seats and, in our case, champagne.
But now this story will follow Delores for a while.
Now read on…
Delores still had her glass of champagne, because she wasn’t really much of a drinker. Still, it made her look elegant, and gave her something to do with her hands while she looked around.
A young man came over, dressed in tight leather pants that squeaked when he walked. His name was Marty, and he’d wanted to be her Master once. She’d been interested, until he’d tied her up and flogged her far harder than she’d agreed to. When she’d told him to stop, he’d said he was punishing her, so safewords didn’t count. When he released her, he told her she’d been a good girl. She’d slapped him hard, and told him to fuck right off.
But here he was, with one hand on her shoulder, turning her round. “Hey, Delores!” He made to kiss her.
Arethusa isn’t afraid of men, because she’d never been with one who’d wanted to harm her. But Delores has had a different life. She isn’t afraid of men because she’d experienced the worst, the very worst, they can do. She said, “I haven’t told many people what a pathetic, sick little fuck you are. I need to fix that. And if you don’t get your hand off me and fuck off in two seconds, you fucked-up little coward, I’m calling a bouncer.”
He went from scowl to smile in about a second. “Jesus, Mary-Jo, chill out for god’s sake. I’m just sayin hello.”
Mary-Jo was her given name, which she’d rejected. Marty was insulting her by using it, but in a deniable way. He was a passive-aggressive, whiny little sadist. When the two seconds were up and Marty was still there, she shouted, “Hey, Ron!” Ron the bouncer, not a small man, headed her way.
Marty snarled, “Crazy fucking bitch” and disappeared into the crowd in the dark.
Ron arrived. “”Hey, Delorry, you ok?”
“I’m ok. Keep an eye on that little shit who was pestering me. And…”
“Yep?” Ron, a sensible man, remembered Delores, liked her and trusted her judgment.
“He’s a non-consent player.” Ron bristled. They give bdsm, and doms in particular, a bad name. But he said nothing, waiting. “If you see him getting lucky with anyone, it’d be a favor to all womankind if you fucked up his night.”
“Ok. Done. Thanks for the tip. I don’t think he’s coming in here again. I mean, he can do what he likes, but he’s not getting in the door.”
“Good.” Delores tiptoed and kissed him on the cheek. He clutched the spot, as if overcome. He smiled and, as he was walking away, turned and blew her a kiss.
So that was a good outcome, she thought, but Marty had fucked up her mood for a bit. She looked for me, but I was kissing Arethusa with my hand under her tutu, and Arethusa was squirming nicely. She wasn’t allowed to come, and she was wondering about begging, with another Master and his slavegirl sitting so close. I slipped a third finger into her.
So Delores looked for Cash, instead. She turned around (I hadn’t seen her), and went to check the dancefloor.
And so she saw Cash on the edge of the dancefloor, kissing another girl, with the girl pushed a little back and Cash’s hand on her arse. Cash had kissed many girls; the other girl hadn’t. This was new for her: twenty-one and never been kissed. Not by a girl, anyway. But it was an intense, sex kiss.
Delores, for all her many virtues, doesn’t really see that girl-on-girl can be a real thing, so she approached them instead. But before she’d got in range, Cash had grabbed the girl’s hand and was pulling her, she following very willingly, into the women’s toilets.
[To be continued.]
So the four of us swayed together, Arethusa and Cash, Delores and me. Arethusa was my current slave, Cash had never been a slave, but I’d introduced her to bdsm, in a relationship that lasted one night. We’d both wanted more, but circumstances were against us. It seemed we were about to have more. And Arethusa and Cash were new to each other, and fancied each other with all the power that comes from newness.
Delores was my ex too, but she didn’t fancy girls at all. So she wasn’t for threesomes, or foursomes. Anyway, she wouldn’t fuck a man who wasn’t single, and I clearly wasn’t that. So our kiss was more affectionate. I had lots of things to ask her about how she’d been since we’d last met, which was a few months ago now.
But it was Cash who broke the foursome. The dj had put on Daft Punk’s Get Lucky, and her ass needed to bop to it. She tried to drag Arethusa and me onto the floor, but Arethusa didn’t like electronica much, and I liked staying with Arethusa. So Cash raced back into the mix of dancers.
So we watched Cash go, until she was on the dance floor, moving to a rhythm exactly twice as fast as Daft Punk, and I bought champagne for Arethusa, Delores and me. They keep the area around the bar in near pitch-darkness so you can’t see your change. You measure it by weight. They didn’t leave me much to carry, apart from the champagne.
We talked for a while, the three of us. Delores and Arethusa were very different people, and they didn’t find much in common. Except me, I guess. I got the latest news from Delores, about her family, and whether she’d found a good dom yet. She hadn’t. I made encouraging remarks, but I didn’t have any dom friends I could recommend.
She told Arethusa an anecdote about the time I’d punished her for losing her purse, and how she’d finally stopped being careless after that.
Arethusa smiled. “He’s good at that.” But I could tell she was finding Delores a little boring. That was a pity.
Delores hugged me, and shook Arethusa’s hand. “Lovely to meet you. But I’m going to get fucked and bruised tonight. So I’d better do some circulating. See you soon.”
She went into the darker areas on the far side of the dance floor. I looked at Arethusa. “That was rude.”
“I’m sorry, Master.” She looked down. “There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s a nice person. I just wanted time with you. On your own.”
“Don’t you want Cash?”
“Um.” She smiled. “Oh yes. She’ll be an ornament to our bed.”
“So what you just said, about just wanting me was bullshit, wasn’t it?”
“Um. Yes. I’m sorry, Master. I suppose I was being a snob.”
“I suppose that too. Hold out your hand.”
“Here?” Then she thought better of protesting. She held out her hand, palm flat upward, while I fished a narrow strip of leather, about a centimetre across, from my pocket. I gave her four strokes on her right hand. It’s a bdsm club. She had quite an audience by the time she got her fourth stroke. Her face clearly showed they’d hurt.
Arethusa isn’t an exhibitionist, but she liked being held in strict control. I said, “Other hand.”
This time she obeyed quickly and properly, holding out her left hand palm up with a “Yes, Master.” I watched her eyes, and she watched mine while I gave her the next four strokes.
She waited for permission. I nodded, and she shook her hands, as if she could waggle the pain into the air. Finally she gasped and said, “Thank you, Master.”
“That’s better. Good girl. Now come with me.”
I led her into the seats and tables in the dark. There was a space by the slavegirl who’d been surreptitiously sucking her Master’s cock. She was sitting up now, her task completed. She was immensely proud of herself, and introduced herself cheerfully, and mentioned that she’d caught the last few seconds of Arethusa’s punishment. So they were two good girls together.
They seemed to get on better than she had with Delores. I’d have to ask her later what that had been about. I didn’t think it was jealousy.
Her Master and I congratulated each other on the excellence of our good girls, so that they could hear it. And we talked about where we were from, and he made the joke about the lights around the bar that I used above. After a while, he sent his girl to get more champagne, and we sat back. Arethusa climbed onto my lap. I kissed her. She kissed me. She was happy again.
In the meantime, Delores about to have a complicated night. So I’m going to leave Arethusa and me in comfort, and follow Delores’s adventures for the next episode or two.
Cassie put her finger on his nose. “I’m just saying,” she said, “if you want to spank some girl, you ask her, or you let her ask you. Because if she’s into it she probably will ask. One way or another. But remember there’s lots of people who aren’t into it. I just don’t want you to make an idiot of yourself.”
Gavan’s erection still existed, but in a pliable, squishy way. Cassie’s waggle had reminded him of things he’d rather be doing. “So, would you mind then, if I smacked your ass, oh, right about now, probably a little harder?
“Well, not too hard. But sure.”
Though Gavan’s cock had slowly shrunk during this conversation, he was still inside her, just. He reached down and smacked her, six times, slowly, with a lot of caressing and kneading that balled, muscled flesh.
Cassie began to move on him. He would be getting hard in those circumstances in any case. But while his hand on her ass, impacting her, wasn’t as incandescent as the desire he’d felt for Ana, he had to admit it was one of the reasons he was getting harder.
That complicates a lot of things, he thought, like life. Did this mean he’d have to choose his girlfriends by their spankability from now on? But he was ready to thrust hard into Cassie, who seemed happy about that, and he smacked her bottom again. It felt good.
For science! he thought, and then stopped thinking.
So I was at Club Bento, with my slavegirl Arethusa, with whom I was madly, passionately, in love. I was holding a tiny platinum blonde Chinese girl who’d jumped up on me with her legs round my waist and, because she wasn’t taking much care while she rocked against me, I’d put my hands on her ass to support her. She’d realised by then that I hadn’t recognised her, and that seemed to be hilarious as well. She was still beaming at me.
I looked her. It was her eyes and her mouth that did it. I said, “Qing!”
She kissed me. “Where’ve you been, stranger?”
“I’ve been here. I kept trying to call you, at your house. And I kept getting through to your housemates. Who were grumpy as fuck. And I left messages. Did they get through?”
“Not to me. They were stupid bastards, those people I lived with. And they thought you were that other guy, your asshole friend. So they probably thought they were doing me a good… Anyway, that’s a pity, but… Here we are!”
She fell forward, and we kissed. Eventually, because it seemed like a good idea I pulled her tiny skirt up, and tugged her knickers as far down as they’d go, on a girl who was straddling me. That provided a space of bare bottom that was tempting in every possible way, and in easy reach. I spanked her, hard, six times, while she squealed and hung on.
It seemed like a good idea to set the mood. Before she’d been my possession, Arethusa had been in a relationship with a lucky guy and another girl, and she liked threesomes.
I hadn’t delivered one for us yet. But it seemed likely that this would work out.
Finally I dropped the girl to her feet. “How come you’re calling yourself Cash?”
Cash, as I was getting used to calling her, tugged at her skirt. I smacked her bottom again, and said, “Leave it.”
She dropped her hand, skirt still round her waist, half her bottom bare. “Nickname, darling. Too many people couldn’t pronounce Qing. So they started calling me K-Ching, like a cash register. Then I changed it to Cash. I liked it, so it’s my name.”
“I like it too. Cash, this is Arethusa.”
The two girls looked at each other. Cash pointed her head at me. “You’re with him?”
Arethusa said, neutrally, “Yes. I’m his property.”
So Cash hugged her, and said, “Cool! Lovely to meet you! How long have you been together?”
“About a year. When did you..?”
“When I was an accountancy student. We’d known each other for about an hour, and by then he’d tied me up, whipped me, fucked me, and then taken my anal, uh, girlhood. So it was just one night, but it was memorable.”
Arethusa looked at me. Our first night had been roughly similar, except that she’d preserved her anal virginity for another month. I’d taken it with more ceremony than I’d allowed Qing. Arethusa said, “That’s Master, all right.”
I looked at her. She smiled at me, thank fuck. I pointed at Cash. She nodded.
Strictly, we’d agreed that she was property, and it wasn’t her decision who came to bed with us, or what she did with her body. There was a piece of paper that said that, among other outrageous things, signed by both of us. In reality, of course, a slavegirl is the most wonderful person in the universe to her owner, and no master with a clue wants to make his girl unhappy.
I said to Cash, “Do you have, um, an owner of any sort?”
She was still looking at Arethusa. They’d reached some sort of understanding. But she shook her head. “I’m more of a top these days. So…”
I considered that, disappointed for a second. On the other hand, Cash still hadn’t pulled her skirt down, after I’d told her not to. So I pulled her and Arethusa into a hug. And then, though I didn’t expect her to come to bed with us, I reeled in Delores as well. And we held each other, swaying together, and Arethusa and Cash kissed, and, because Delores didn’t kiss girls, I kissed her.
It was one of the most blessed moments of my life. But I’m going to disappear from this story soon, for a while, anyway.
[To be continued]
This is the sequel to a story I told a couple of years ago. You can find Qing’s and my first encounter, when she was a very different sort of girl, here. Or you can look for it, under its title, “Mouth to Mouth: Qing’s story”.
Gavain thought. What had he learned about himself, from smacking Cassie’s bottom? “Spanking you felt good, I mean as a sensual experience. There’s that.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Gawain. That’s so appalling I can’t even tell whether you’re trying to talk your way out of trouble. I tell you what, though.”
“I know you. We’re friends. I know you’re not a psycho or a misogynist. But that pat on the ass thing, that gets harder when I’m getting closer to coming: I noticed that.”
“Didn’t feel subtle, then?”
“No woman wouldn’t notice. Thing is,not everyone knows you’re not a nutcase. So there are a lot of girls, probably the majority, who aren’t going to all that delighted when a man offers to hit them. Even if he means it in a nice sexy way. Cause they don’t think there is a nice way or a sexy way. So your chances of getting them back into your bed are close to zero.”
Gavain nodded, considering that. It seemed likely to be true. He said, “Yeah.”
“You know, even for girls who aren’t shocked, maybe even girls who’d like to be spanked more than me, it still feels like you’re trying to be sneaky. No one likes that.”
“You’re an ok person, and you pay attention when you’re fucking. I like the way you fuck. I bet lots of girls like fucking you. Or they would. So I’m not getting at you.”
“No! You don’t get to sulk! You’re the one who smacked my ass.”
This is Episode 2 of a short story. Well, it’s short by my standards: I expect it to take only three or four episodes. Episode 1 is here. Read it if you haven’t and you feel like it, then come back.
Don’t Do That! 2
“God, you’re fish in a barrel. I was teasing you. You’re easy. Truth?”
“It was mildly pleasant. It’s not one of my turn-ons, particularly, but I didn’t hate it. How, um, I suppose I should ask, how was it for you?”
“I’m not sure. I mean, your ass always feels good to me.” She looked irritated, so he corrected course.
“I don’t know,” he said. “When I had the thought about my, uh, client, I mean, when it occurred to me to spank her, I had a kind of flash, like a vision of what it’d be like. It was hot as fuck. I went, full on, this-is-awkward, unwanted erection. In about five seconds. Took ages to get it down again.”
“Did she notice?”
“Oh, poor you.”
“God no. I was relieved. Could have been much worse.”
“I suppose. Anyway, what’s that got to do with how hot it was to spank me? Or not?”
“Because when I imagined it she was really into it. That’s what made it so hot.”
“So my reaction was… disappointing?” Cassie didn’t look sorry.
“I wasn’t sure if you hadn’t noticed, or you were putting up with it, or it was sort of okay but nothing special. So that wasn’t so hot.”
“On behalf of all womanhood, I apologize for not being a porn star. You’ll just have to put up with real girls.”
“You got a porn star’s ass. Very superior ass.”
“Huh.” But she waggled her ass, just the same.
Cassie astride and above him, jockeying vehemently with her eyes closed, was focused on her orgasm. She had no notion that he, specifically, was there. Gavain, providing her fulcrum, knew she’d reached her point of no return.
He moved his hand down from her hip and smacked her bottom, experimentally. There was a small sound, a slap, but she didn’t open her eyes or change her rhythm. Gavain considered the sensation. His handful of her ass felt great, of course, but it always did, whether she was still or bouncing, whether his hand arrived hard or soft.
But did he get off on spanking her? Did it add an edge to the already excellent experience of having sex with Cassie? He smacked her again, on the other side, a little harder. Cassie still didn’t open her eyes, but she expelled her breathe, once, hard, through her nose, and lowered her body so her breasts touched his chest and his cock slipped further into her. She sped up, frantic for speed.
By way of encouragement he smacked her in time with her movements, until she arched her back, all muscles clenched, and made her orgasm noise, low and loud. It sounded to Gavain like an engine racing between gears. He thought that was her, her enjoyment celebrated lustily with no concern for whether she sounded beautiful. He’d got over loving her, after she’d left him. But he still loved that.
He let her rest, happy, without coming himself because she knew she’d want more in a few minutes, and it’d take him about twenty minutes to half an hour to recover if he came. He kissed her forehead and her ear, and she opened her eyes. “Hello you.”
Gavain said, “Hey you.” He put his hand back on her left buttock where he’d smacked it. There was a tiny glow of warmth.
Cassie frowned. “Um. Gavain, that was new. New for you, anyway. Were you trying to spank me?”
Gavain felt himself blushing. “It was… sort of an experiment. Did you mind? Or did you like it?”
“Um. It was ok. I didn’t mind. I suppose I wondered how come. Have you got some new girl who likes that?”
“Er, not exactly. Or not at all. There’s a girl, and I found myself thinking it’s be a really good idea, and amazingly hot, if I spanked her. And it wouldn’t be a great idea. It’d be a really stupid, unethical, terrible idea. To do anything with her. But I don’t think I’ve ever thought that about someone before.”
“Ahhhh huh.” Cassie wriggled very slowly on his cock, still inside her, but down to half hard. “So. This girl’s a client, yes?”
“Ump. She is.”
“She has that honor, my lord. And she probably does need spanking. But I can see that you can’t. But what were you doing with me?”
“I, uh, haven’t spanked anyone. I wanted to see if I thought it was hot.”
“So you conducted experiments with my ass. Non-consensual experiments.”
Gavain said, “Um…”