Legs open. Legs open. Legs open.
I repeated it to myself as a mantra as he walked around me, the corners of his eyes betraying his amusement. I could feel my clit throbbing with need. I couldn't feel my cunt, but his gaze told me it was probably soaked. I shifted in my chair, then winced as he stepped in and gave my cunt a stinging slap. "You're on display. Sit still."
"Yes Sir," I whimpered, my clit throbbing harder now. Behind my head, my hands tightened in my hair.
Fuck me
, I wanted to scream.
Please, please fuck me.
But if I begged, he would draw the suspense out longer - or he would fuck me painfully in the ass, or pound my cervix but not let me cum, or any of the other ways he liked to remind me he was in control. As if there was any doubt.
"How are you feeling?"
Like I'll melt into a puddle of goo any second.
"Horny, Sir," I whispered.
"Beg pardon?"
"Horny, Sir." My hands tightened more, pulling my hair. The pain helped me focus, and distracted me from what I was admitting. "Exposed. Extremely vulnerable. Embarrassed that this position turns me on so much, because I want to curl into a ball."
Maintain eye contact.
But I wanted desperately to look at the floor, the wall, anywhere but him.
Maintain eye contact.
"My legs are aching a little from being over the chair legs. I'm a little cold." My gaze flicked down to my nipples, hard from cold and arousal, then back up to him.
He smiled. "It turns you on because this is what you are for. Being on display. Here for my pleasure. Aren't you?"
I tensed my thighs, fighting the instinct to close them, and instead straightened my back to thrust my chest out. "Yes Sir."
Yes, whatever you want, just please fuck me!
His voice warmed. "Good girl. Tell me, how do you think I should fuck you?"
It's a trap.
There was no change in tone, no note of warning in his voice. But I knew better. "However you'd like to, Sir."
"Good girl." He slipped two fingers inside my cunt and curled them up. I gasped, my cunt tightening around them. He began to finger me, deep and slow, and I felt a rising wave of heat and pleasure. He said something, experimenting with where he thought my G-spot might be. I squirmed, fighting to keep my legs spread, trying to stay still.
Don't cum, don't cum, don't cum.
He paused, and with his other hand slapped me sharply across the face. "I asked you a question."
"I-I-I'm sorry, Sir."
"Perhaps we should we stop, if you're going to ignore what I say."
"No, Sir, please." I tried, and failed, to keep the desperation out of my voice. "Please don't, I'll do better, Sir. I'll do better."
"Yes. You will." His fingering resumed, and I let out a strangled moan as I tried to ignore it. "Should I take your ass or your cunt?"
Trick question. Jesus, I need to cum.
My broke slightly. "Whichever you prefer, please, Sir."
Another smile. "Good answer." He started curling his fingers again, toying with my g-spot. I inhaled deeply, struggling to maintain composure as his fingers tested my self-control. He continued, "But which do you think would be better for you? Cunt or ass?"
"Uh, uh," I gasped, buying time. "Uh, um-"
Another trap!
"Both would be, Sir. With my ass, I slip into subspace, and it's, uh. It's clear that it's all for your pleasure, Sir. Plus you like training me to cum with just anal." There was no change in expression as he listened, but he fingered me harder, pressing into me, his hand becoming slick with moisture.
He's trying to get me to mess up.
"In my cunt, um, uh-" I struggled to think through the pleasure clouding my mind.
I can do this.
"You can go as hard as you want, Sir. No need to hold back for safety. You can hurt me as much as you want."
"Hmm. Good points." He finally stood, ignoring my needy whimper as he pulled his fingers out of me, covered in my arousal. He wiped them off on my face, amused at my grimace.
I hate it when he does this.
The smell wafted into my nostrils, and I bit back another moan.
Liar. I love it.
My eyes followed him as he took a few steps back, looking me over and undoing the buttons of his shirt. My legs were still spread over the chair legs, my hands still behind my head with my elbows out to the side. The cold air on my exposed cunt made it ache more. "All excellent points. Fucking you in the ass makes you feel submissive and it's for my pleasure. While in the cunt, I can go as hard as I want." He paused and glanced at me as he shrugged off his shirt. "Hmm. Now, would that mean your cunt is not for my pleasure?"
Shit. Shitshitshitshit.
"Uh, no Sir, that's not what I meant at all! They're both for your pleasure!"
"But that's not what you said." He was unbuckling his belt now, and unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. "We've spoken about this. You need to think more about what you say. And didn't you also imply that it doesn't make you feel submissive?" He stepped out of his pants, enjoying whatever look was frozen on my face. "I think we can remedy that."
"No Sir, no Sir, please-"
He strode across the room and grabbed a handful of my hair, guiding me up and walking me over to the bed as I continued to stammer. "That's not what I meant at all, Sir, please. They're both for your pleasure, I feel submissive with both of them..." He ignored me as he tossed me onto the bed, facing him. I automatically spread my legs for him, still talking. "... and I promise I won't say something that stupid again, Sir, I know I'm here for your pleasure..." He held my ankles, using them to force my thighs back against my stomach, pushing me to lie back against the bed. "...and please don't, Sir, I promise I'll please you, I promise I'll take whatever you give me, I'm here for your pleasure Sir-"
