MISTRESS Scarlett is not going to be happy when she gets home from work. I’ve been poking the proverbial bear all evening, deliberately trying to piss her off via text message so that she’ll be riled up and ready to punish me when she gets here. It doesn’t always work because she knows what I’m playing at, but it’s worth a shot.
That woman, when the fire of anger lights her from within, is a sight to see. It makes my inner submissive tremble with fear and lust at the same time. She’ll never lose control with me, but she might just push me out of my comfort zone. I hear her key turn in the door and my pussy clenches in anticipation. I don’t get up from the couch, unsure whether she’ll be willing to play after a long shift with clients, but I can immediately tell she’s got some steam to blow off. She doesn’t say a word as she hangs her keys precisely on the hook and sets her work bag on the chair in the corner. She has changed out of her dominatrix outfit into jeans and a black T-shirt, but she doesn’t need leather or latex to look the part. It’s in the way she carries herself, in the way she approaches me slowly on the couch, every inch a predator. She seizes my hair in her fist, dragging me to my knees in front of her.
I shout in protest, even though I know it’s futile. “You spend the whole night trying to piss me off and then whine when I come home pissed off?” Oh yeah, she knows me too well. She sits in my place on the couch, leaving me kneeling there as she takes a long gulp from my beer. “Strip,” she commands, eyes blazing. I comply, immediately shedding my sweatpants and shirt to reveal I’m not wearing anything under them. I get back on my knees in front of her, hoping she’s going to let me lick her pussy to make up for my attitude, but she drags me up by the hair again and pulls me over her lap.
I always think I want to be punished until I feel her hand smack across my ass, and then I change my mind. As she rains unforgiving blows down on my ass cheeks, I squirm and try to pull away, but she holds me down firmly with her other hand. There is something powerfully humiliating about an over-the-knee spanking that comes from feeling like a helpless child. The rough fabric of her jeans rubs against my sensitive nipples as I writhe, turning me on. She realizes I’m doing it on purpose and pinches them harshly, making me squeal. “You little slut. I’m trying to punish you and you’re rubbing against me like a cat in heat.” She punctuates these words with even harder spanking. I can feel the hot glow of my ass, that stinging feeling I simultaneously crave and loathe.
Just as I think I can’t take anymore, I feel the hand that has been holding me slide down between my cheeks and find my pussy. Her probing fingers discover the slick evidence of my arousal, parting my pussy lips and spreading them wide. I moan and arch back into her touch in pleading invitation. She teases two fingertips inside me a little, but leaves me empty and desperate. I’m so focused on this that I jerk in surprise as she spanks me again, the pain and pleasure rolling into one another exquisitely. I want more. She finds my clit with her wet fingers and rubs in a slow circle, but she also pinches a nipple again, sending electric jolts of pain shooting into my belly.
She continues to torment me like this, applying more and more pressure to my tender nipple just as she rubs my clit harder and faster. It’s so intense that I’m keening incoherently, not sure whether I’m begging her to stop or to finish. She has two fingers thrusting inside of me now, while her thumb continues to rub my clit. She’s pressing hard and deep within me, making me feel like she owns every inch of me. She stops squeezing my nipple, and I sigh in relief, but it’s shortlived. I’m getting so close to coming, but her palm is slapping my ass again in heavy, merciless blows. I have tears streaming down my cheeks from the pain, but she doesn’t let up. Tears won’t make her show mercy.
They turn her on. The only thing that will stop her is my safe word, and it’ll never pass my lips when I’m this close to climax. I finally crest the wave of an explosive orgasm, thrusting back against her hand even though it makes her spank me harder. I’m focused on the absolute bliss of coming until my world goes off-kilter because she unceremoniously shoves me off her lap. I fall in a bruising heap on the floor, jolted from my sensual reverie. I look up at my mistress in confusion, desperate to please her. “I didn’t give you permission to come, my pain slut. Now you’re going to make it up to me.” I start to shake, terrified she’s going to keep spanking my raw ass, but instead she stands and drops her jeans and panties to the floor.
The edge of her anger and frustration are gone, but she’s still riled up and ready for release. She sits back down and doesn’t bother to give a command, instead pulling me by the hair toward her pussy. I know what she wants and I don’t hesitate. I moan delightedly as my tongue parts her folds to find her clit. She hasn’t showered yet, so I can taste the faint musky flavor of sweat and pussy. It’s heavenly. I slide a hand down and start to touch myself as I please her, already back on the brink of orgasm simply because this goddess has let me in to her most sacred place. I flick and press my warm, wet tongue against that bundle of nerves until I finally feel her tense and come.
She sighs contentedly, reaching over to finish my beer. I start to crawl back onto her lap, ready to snuggle in for some aftercare, but she shakes her head. “Go get me another beer. We’re not finished yet.” I guess I succeeded in pissing her off. Now I’ll pay the deliciously erotic price until she’s satisfied. It was worth it.