Master had the glint in his eyes last night. The one that tells me I'm probably in for some use later on.
Sure enough, he pulled a paddle out and ordered me across his lap at the first opportunity. At first it felt really, really good. I came. After a long while, it was getting so hard to take I started kicking. Not at him, just kicking in general. I tried wiggling away.
"Are you trying to get away from me?" He demanded, in THAT tone.
"Master, Master, Master...." I was pleading for something; I don't know what. Forgiveness? Stopping? More paddling? I don't know. Pick two, any two.
But after that I held still.
It was definitely a cure for my case of the blahs, since I feel all freshly-fucked-flowers wonderful today.
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Ooh, "Freshly-fucked-flowers" I like that!
ReplyDeleteHappt to hear you got what you needed!
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