”Touch yourself,” he said.
She was splayed out naked in the overstuffed armchair, legs stretched over the arms of the chair. Totally exposed. But she turned her head away, lowered her eyes, as if that would let her escape his gaze.
“Ok,” he said with a shrug. He knew how hard this was for her, but he was adamant that she would obey. He had already put the cuffs around her ankles, now he quickly attached each cuff to a strap around the corresponding leg of the chair. This ensured she was held in such a way that she could not close her legs.
“Oh, shit,” she thought. Still avoiding looking up, not pleased with her own disobedience, she did not see that he had picked up the small wooden spoon. He moved to stand beside the chair, which allowed him more of a swing as he brought the spoon down on her inner thigh. Hard.
She cried out, partly in pain, partly in shock, her eyes flying open. Her leg jerked, and if it had not been held firmly in place, she would have crossed her legs in an effort to protect herself.
“Oh,” he said, “Did that hurt?”
The stinging was easing up and she almost laughed as she answered, “Um, yes, Sir, it definitely hurt.”
He did laugh as he said, “Oh, good, it was supposed to. That’s what happens to sub girls who don’t obey their masters. Pain.” And he brought the wooden spoon down again, hard, on the same thigh, just slightly higher than the first blow, overlapping a bit.
She knew better than to resist, and yet her hand was suddenly on her thigh, rubbing at the rising welt, covering the tender area of the thigh, as if she could protect herself. His eyebrows went up, and he half smiled but she knew she was in trouble.
“Hands on top of your head,” he said.
Slowly, reluctantly, she placed both hands on top of her head.
“Five more on this side,” he said. “You may count, and thank me for each one. Then seven on the other side. When I’m finished, you’re going to touch yourself, while I watch. You’re going to stop when I say stop, and start again when I say go.”
He paused to caress her inner thigh gently with the small wooden spoon. She whimpered. He tapped her pussy lightly with the spoon, making her shudder.
She knew that she was incredibly wet. She knew that she could cum really easily. And she knew that this would be a long, slow process before there was any relief. She knew all of this, and he did too.
“Let’s begin,” he said. “You start. Say, ‘Please, Sir, may I have another?’”