(A thing from a Work in Progress. I should say that many of my stories start as autobiography, before having details changed to protect the depraved. But in this story, Seamus isn’t me. He’s a guy I used to know.)
Then, naked except for her socks, Asuka walked carefully to the door to collect her sandals, and put them on, while he admired the movements of her cane-striped bottom. She shuffled to the kitchen and took a shovel and broom from the cupboard under the sink.
Seamus sat and watched his well striped girl, pretending to read Sei Shonagon while she picked up the pieces of plate.At last she’d swept all the shards and dust onto the shovel and then the kitchen bin. When the kitchen was tidy again, if lacking in crockery, she stood and looked at him, questioning.
“That looks … acceptable. Oh, and bring me the peanut oil.”
She lifted the little bottle from the cupboard, and came back to Seamus, holding the oil in both hands in front of her.
He took it from her gravely. “Now, Asuka, I’m not finished with you. Turn round and bend over again.”
“”Yes, sir.” She wiggled as much as she dared, once she had her back to him, since she was confident that he admired her ass. Then she bent over, and touched her toes as she’d been while he’d caned her.
“Good girl. Feet apart a little more, Asuka.” She shuffled obediently. But he smacked the inside of her right thigh and said, “Further.”
She obeyed, less puzzled. But she made an interrogative noise when he lubricated his forefinger and pressed against her little asshole. Then there was realization, and she said something like, “Whoo.” In wonder.
Seamus pressed his forefinger into her, to the first knuckle, then less slowly to the second. He twisted his finger inside her tight, clinging orifice, and then withdrew, to put more lubricant on his finger.
Asuka held herself very still. Her face, upside down between her knees, was wide-eyed, mouth open. He smiled at her, and smacked her left buttock, then her right, with his hand, and then lubricated two fingers.