The Little Brat

Her heart had been pounding in excitement waiting for him, her inner thighs already growing slick with the burning longing and anticipation of his touch. She closed her eyes, sitting naked on the couch, and reaches between her legs and slides her fingers down her body, feeling her hardened nipples on her C cup breasts and the small bar bell piercings running through them. The fingertips move further down her body, lightly almost tickling herself as she slightly opens her thighs revealing a waxed and smooth pubic mound. Her digits easily probing the slit between her labia and find the slickness underneath. Dipping into her vagina with a deft and practiced move with two fingers she moans and gently probes herself in and out, relishing the sensation building there. Fingers well lubricated, she sensually withdraws them, bring them up to her hardening clit. With ease, she moves the hood to expose her clit. Feeling the air on it elicits another moan before her moistened fingers slowly rub the area to either side before working her to the swelling bump of pleasured flesh. She thinks of his hands on her body, feeling touch, gentle at first then firmly griping her breasts and gently twisting her nipple piercings around sending electric singles through her body down to her slick sex. The pleasure grows and she paces her herself, moving her fingers back in the damp tight cavity. She moans again, louder, pleasure growing then she hears the footsteps and sees the time.

Immediately she whips her fingers out as she slides to the floor checking the door, ensuring it’s unlocked as she hears familiar footsteps. A hand on the knob now as she frantically smooths her auburn hair and assumes her kneeling position, knees spread, wrists snapping in place touching each other behind her back as the door opens, her eyes downcast but slightly panicked. She hears the door open as she takes long deep breaths to lower her heart rate as it was his wish that she not touch herself without his permission.

She sees his black loafers walk into her apartment. She smells his gentle hint of cologne and is entranced already, breathing in his presence and feeling it within her being.

“Rise, little one,” his voices intones softly with an air of command inherent in its lower tones.

She snaps to position, standing, feet shoulder width apart, fingers interlaced behind her head. Body fully exposed for his inspection.

He walks behind her leaning around to kiss her cheek in greeting. At six foot, his presence was didn’t tower over her 5’7″ body, but presented a safe protecting space for her to lean in and feel his body through his clothes. His warmth, his being, bringing the normal soothing feeling that rolls over her with a simple touch. His warm hands, strong yet still soft start on her hips, she fights off a sigh. He begins to nuzzle her hands and neck, kissing her softly while his hands wrap around her body gripping her in a hug, fingers barely brushing her waist, then up the ribs to cup and grip her breasts.

He leans into her ear and whispers a low growling moan of approval in her ear, tightening his grip on her hardened nipples, pulling at them slightly. She can’t help it anymore and moans softly, a mere baby’s breath whispering across her vocal chords. He kisses her hands, grasping them and gently pulling them down from the back of her head, he stops and she knows he knows now. She holds her breath, then as he kisses and gently sucks her fingers, her shoulders slump in resignation.

“Have something to tell me little one?” He asks as he turns her around to face him.

“Uhh…” she starts to try to come up with a lie but just gives him a sheepish smile shrugging her shoulders knowing the game was up. “I had a scratch? I really missed you? Either of those work?” she quipped resulting in a raised eyebrow from him.

“Funny, it must have been your cervix itching. Was it worth it? Did you enjoy it?” He asks, mildly amused.

“I was getting close when you were walking up to the door,” she sullenly pouts, her face making an overly dramatic frown.

Brushing her hair aside from her messy pony tail, he looks into her crystal blue eyes and thinks how he could drown in those pools. He gently raises her chin, smiling as she can no longer hold her fake pout and it crumbles to a smile as she returns his gaze, looking into dark bluish green eyes, seemingly alternating between the two colors the way the ocean currents move freely, twisting and turning beneath the waves. His dark blond hair framing his face. Then she notices his smile. It’s pleasant and kind, but it’s that smile. The one that she will not as much remember tomorrow…but, feel the reminders of. It’s already too late when her Dom smiles Like that.

He pulls her in close, smelling her faint perfume of light roses, an odd and archaic choice but she loves the feeling of him getting hard through his slacks just from her scent. Knowing full well her fate, she decides to add to it and grips and rubs his manhood through his pants without direct permission. He pins her hands behind her back and holds them both with one of his hands, the other grips the back of her head and gently pulls her in for a deep long kiss.

She feels herself melting in his arms, being consumed by him as their lips press together, their mouths open for their tongues to begin the familiar dance she has craved all week. His tensions ease from the week as he takes her into him, their souls melding into one forged by the heat of love and passion.

Soon after the kiss begins, his other hand moves from her head, their mouths joined, her eyes closed and SMACK as it swats her ass causing her to jump. She had become so lost in him she had so quickly forgotten her transgression and that a punishment was due.

He holds her tight against him, her hands pinned against his back so he can stare in her eyes, SMACK! It falls on the other ass cheek open palm. She can already feel the sting and the redness on her ass cheeks in the shape of his hand. Then 3 more in quick succession, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. Hand falls beat a painful staccato but he never breaks his gaze with her. She knows she failed him and staring in his eyes while being punished both excited her and made her feel the guilt even more as her eyes began to tear up.

“How many was that?”

Shit, she chastised herself. She forgot to count. That bastard did the eye staring on purpose!

Trying to smile coyly through the stinging and wiggling in his grip, she says, “Not enough?” with a wink.

He smiles again and sits on the sofa, pulling her down with him laying her across his lap as she giggles and wags her bare bottom in his face while it’s over his lap. She can feel his hardness pressing into her side which makes her smile to herself knowing it’s for her.

“For every five strokes count 1. We will stop when you reach 5,” he tells her rubbing his hands over her firm ass, parting her cheeks and rubbing her pussy and asshole. “Do you understand?”

“Yep!” then she yelps from another surprise smack on her ass. “Yes, Sir,” she hastily added.

Chuckling, “I can never tell if you do this on purpose or if you just refuse to remember,” he said rubbing the pink cheek and massaging it.

“Now, put your hands behind the back,” he softly requested.

She shuffled into position with her hands before laying with her pink and stinging ass in the air, tits and knees pressed to the sofa, his left hand grasping both wrists. “Remember to count and to count correctly,” he growled.

Both fear and excitement welled up in her, her eyes still moist from the first couple. She knew he disobeyed him, then forgot her training on top of that and was sassy. She both dreaded and languished what was about to happen. Her slit already aroused.

“Do not kick me or I will lose count and I don’t think you want that to happen. Will you be able to control your feet little one?”

She did her best to twist herself to look back at him, his arm raised and palm open, slightly cupped to begin. Her eyes misty, she managed a weak smile and said “Yes sir, thank you for checking.”

He nods and begins. The swats come hard and fast, she remembers her count. Sometime after “three” she breaks and cries out, panting and gasping for breath.

“Are you ok, Love?” he asks her. Her eyes are starting to glaze over but she is still with him and nods readily affirmative. He smiles back and continues.

His swats vary in speed and in alternating between her cheeks. Her voices catches in her throat, somewhere between a sob and a moan of pleasure.

“Four!” she hastily calls out.

SMACK! SMACK! Her ass now red and hand shaped. SMACK! SMACK! The hardest two yet eliciting a caught whimper and sob, her hands reflexively attempting to pull away from his grip.

Five, she frantically thinks to her self? The counting of repetition and the same numbers had been setting her into a trance. No, wait, she thought one more…or two…fuck!

He sees her tense and hold off answering fairly sure her count is off. “So, was that 4 or 5? Do you feel lucky my slut?”

“Fi-no! Four! It was only four!” she stammers then blurts out, not entirely sure herself but knowing she had a 50/50 chance of being right.

“Good girl,” he purrs, a cat playing with a favorite toy mouse. SMACK!

“FIVE!” she yells triumphantly.

The hardest one yet…SMACK!

“But…I was right! I that’s not fair, I gave the right answer!” she cries out petuntlantly.

Grinning like a Cheshire, he smoothly says, “I know. That was for guessing.”

Her jaw dropped. They’ve played so long she shouldn’t be surprised anymore.

He release her wrists and helps her kneel on the floor in front of him. She remembers and resumes her kneeling position, but leans into his leg, glancing at his crotch hungrily, her heels pressing into her burning backside as her breathing calms. He strokes her head almost absent-mindedly as if he were reading a favorite book with a cat on his lap.

He helps her shift her position allowing him to stand. “You did very well accepting your punishment tonight.”