As I follow his commands obediently laying my body softly over his hot hard secure lap, I tentatively and shyly stretch forward and raise my dress gracefully, slowly, and sensuously. I already begin to anticipate the forthcoming spanking, my lips glistening within as I concentrate on grasping the edges of the chair with my sweaty palms. As my heartbeat races I inhale deeply trying to steady my nerves, taking in the heady and intoxicating scent of my Master's desires mixed with my wet pussy. I wonder if my Master can smell it too, the powerful and perfect balance of a man and women's inner spirit, exchanging in their essence, giving and receiving, desiring and fulfilling at once.
Suddenly I feel him grabbing my waist firmly and pushing me forward towards the floor, my hands instinctively coming up, bracing myself as my backside ends up exactly as he orchestrates over his right thigh. I respond according my limbs swinging into submission as his own personal love doll, only too eager to manoeuvre my body and increase any access to my holes. My heart pounds even harder in my chest as I am lost in the tangle of thick strands of my black hair blinding me, a slave to sensation and my Master's will.
After what seems like forever with my ass in his lap, offered up to him like some sexual sacrifice, I feel his hands softly, slowly, and warmly, gliding across my cheeks. Swallowed whole in these sexy movements I give myself up completely to him enjoying every moment of his smooth strong hands rubbing my plump ass, and I have reached that peaceful, pleasurable place within. My slaveheart, in essence, a slave to my Master's heart as I feel the flood within threatening to break the banks of that dam all too soon, but I somehow manage to hold back.
I feel him caressing my thighs as he spreads them apart gently in such bold contrast to the burning heat of what is to come. When he is happy with my posture and ensures I am suitably exposed and spread, I can feel a tremble within. I try so hard to restrain the anticipation but my thighs are shaking with fear, anxiety, desire and passion. Despite craving a good hard spanking for a while, thoughts are racing through my mind as I wait for that first sharp slap: How many will he give me? How many do I deserve? How many can I stand? Where will they be? Which ass cheek will he strike first? Will I be able to handle it? Will I be able to please? Will I be able to sit down after?