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“Turn it back down–”
“I’m definitely not doing that.” He spanks me again, then once more, and twice more is enough to have me pressing my face into the bench with a sound that’s close to a scream cut off in my throat.
It hurts, but it also feels really,reallygood. It makes the vibrator feel so much more intense, and every time he runs his nails over my heated skin, I think I’m going to fall apart on the spot.
“Color?” Arlo asks, hand resting on my lower back.
It takes me a minute, but I swallow and say, “Green. So much green.”
“Good girl.” He runs his fingers up my back until he can fist them in my hair andjerksmy head upward, eliciting an actual cry from my mouth when I have no way to block it. “Don’t muffle yourself. I want to hear the effect I have on you. Understand?” When I try to nod, he grips my hair tighter, twisting his fingers enough to make my skin prickle. “Remember what we said about verbal answers?”
“S-sorry,” I whimper, unable to concentrate or stop myself from wriggling on the bench. My hands slide in the cuffs, and I turn my face up to Arlo’s. “I understand.”
“Good fucking girl.” He rests my head back down, hands going to my shoulders, to my back, and finally down to tease and massage circles into my hips.
It’s torturous, in a strange, amazing kind of way. He continues with his light touches but frequently spanks me again, sometimes once and sometimes twice. Then he’ll go back to just the featherlight touches, or maybe a scrape of his nails, but never all at once.
It’s enough to make medie.
I’m also working hard not to focus on the vibrator because the moment I do, I’m going to let myself get too far. It shouldn’t be as good as it is. It shouldn’t be urging me towards my orgasm as easily as it is.
But here I am, a girl with a newly discovered kink for being spanked.
“Four more, okay?” Arlo asks, drawing his nails down my thighs. “But I want you to count them for me. Can you do that?”
Probably not. I start to nod, then say, “Yeah. I can do that.”
“Of course, you can.”
He slaps my upper thighhard, but not hard enough toactuallymake me want to even say yellow, and I say, as clearly as I can, “One.”
The next one, on my opposing thigh, isn’t too much more difficult, and I suck in a breath as my heart pounds and say, “Two.”
“Good girl. Just keep being so good for me, okay?” He draws the vibrator out of me and runs it over my clit, causing me to whimper and arch forward, trying to get away from the lovely feel of it. If he doesn’t want me to come, then hereallycan’t do that to me.
“No, no. Stay right here, Ari. You’re not going anywhere until I say so.” He runs it along my slit, against my inner thigh, then presses it against my clit. “Count to ten,” he says. “And don’t youdarecome.”
“I can’t. Arlo,please–”
“Count,baby girl.” There’s no mercy in his voice, and he’s certainly not moving.
“One, two–” I shudder, then make it all the way to eight before he starts moving it along my clit for the last bit of the count, “Nine-ten,” I say as if they’re one word.
He slips it back into me, but that’s not much better. “Two more,” he says, and that’s all the warning I get before his hand comes down on one side of my ass, then the other. My counts are loud and erratic, and themomenthe’s done, he grabs my fishnets and rips them even more. I hear what sounds like a zipper, then my panties are shoved to the side, the vibrator being pulled free a second later, and Arlo thrusts into me without delay.
It’s too much and perfect andeverythingall at once. I can’t help the open-mouthed moans that fall from my lips, and I clench my fists as I try so hard not to come.
“You feel so good, baby girl,” Arlo purrs, his hand gripping my hip hard. “You grip me so fucking tightly.” Lightly, he slaps my thigh, a mere echo of his earlier treatment, but I cry out and clench around him all the same.
“Fuckingperfect.” The praise that drops from his lips might as well be diamonds with how much I love every word. “Grip me just like that. Be a good girl for me, Ari.” His other hand with the vibrator is back, and he holds it to my clit.
I can’t help it. I nearlyscreambecause I’m going to come, and there’s nothing that can stop that. “Arlo, I’m–I’m going to come.”
“Not yet, you aren’t.”
“But you said–”
“Just another few seconds, baby girl. Count to five for me.”
