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?
Leaving me teetering on the precipice of pain, he pats my upturned oiled rump which he is about to tenderize. I am almost holding my breath awaiting that first cruel blow as he tells me that he will thoroughly enjoy this. My heart secretly finds consolation in this fact, at least feeling pride and pleasure in pleasing my Master's desires and bearing his pain. He also tells me I should be ashamed of myself and I do. I feel that sweet heat of shame which makes me ripple with delight, rejoicing in the embarrassment and humiliation of it all. Spread and open on my Master's lap about to get the whooping I deserve and shamefacedly embracing it, ass wide open, in the midst of it all. I didn't even know these feelings could exist, bring so much pleasure, and once before would never have even contemplated being in this position, literally.
I am so consumed by these thoughts and emotions that the first hard smack seems to come out of nowhere and shatters all trains of thought, bringing me back down to the world of physical sensations with a sweet sharp sting. I can't help but gasp for air with the pain and surprise. The sound rings in my ears as the stinging burn pierces my very soul, setting my ass on fire, but there is no time to recompose as the next hard smack rains down with such force that my meat jiggles for you in a delightful dance of the flesh, and I can imagine your wicked smile.
