“I don’t know if I should tell you,” she answers, her voice small and playful in her character she’s putting on. I smile up at her and take her thigh into my mouth, biting down hard enough that she yelps and tries to pull away.
“You will tell me, or it’ll be number eight.”
“I like you, Mr. Saint,” she admits on a breathy sigh.
Fuck if that doesn’t go straight to my dick. I unbutton my shirt and peel it away from my body, tossing it away from us on the floor.
“Fuck dessert,” I tell her as I crawl between her legs and push her further back on the bed. “I’m having you instead.”
I push her knees to her chest and take as much of her pussy into my mouth as I can over her panties. She cries out, and her hips move and hump against my face as I lick and suck and bite at her through the lace, pressing the flat of my tongue against the toy to make it move inside of her.
Sick of the layer of fabric between us, I grab it and yank it hard, causing it to rip clean off her body. She yelps at the burn, but before she can register the pain, my mouth is on her clit, sucking it into my mouth over and over again, setting a rhythm that I know is going to send her over the edge within minutes.
Her breathing picks up, and her hands find my hair. She loves to pull on my hair when I go down on her, and those little shocks of pain only urge me on. I suck and suck as her hips buck against me until I’m forced to wrap my arms around them and hold her in place.
“Yes! Don’t stop!” she yells, and I can’t help but hope someone can hear her. The idea of someone hearing her scream for me makes me feral. “Don’t stop, Daddy! Never stop. Never stop, oh my God.” She moans loud and long as she comes, her release coating my beard. I slowly pull the Lush free from her and toss it to the side. My tongue dips inside of her, getting every little bit of her release that I can.
“Such a little slut,” I say as I pull away and flip her over. She whimpers as I grab and grope her ass until it turns red under my ministrations. “Was this your plan all along? Get my attention by being naughty in class and then coming to seduce me?”
I smack her ass hard, watching a handprint form before doing the same to the other side. When she doesn’t answer me I slap each thigh just as hard, making her jerk and moan. I hold her down as she tries to move away.
“Ah, ah,” I tell her as I grab her legs and hold her in place. “Answer me.”
“Yes, sir,” she whimpers.
“Dirty…little…whore.” I accentuate each word with a smack to her ass. “I think it’s time for you to receive your punishment,” I murmur as I lay myself over her body, pinning her hands between her back and my front. With my free hand, I grab her throat and pull her face to mine. I kiss her hard. I kiss her until I taste blood from us biting one another.
“You remember your safe words?” I ask her, making sure she’s looking at me as I get her consent.
“I do.” We stare at each other for a moment before she nods and smiles, pecking me quickly on the lips before we settle back into the roles we’re playing.
I crawl off the bed and kick off my pants, my boxers soaked through where precum has leaked throughout the night. My balls are begging for release, but it’s not time yet. She has to get her punishment before I let her come all over my cock and get my own release. I grab a crop that hangs in my closet next to the other toys I’ve collected over the years.
I would prefer to try out a belt on her, but we haven’t really escalated much past my hand yet, and I don’t want to go from zero to a hundred. I walk back over to the bed and run the crop up each of her legs before letting it fall between her legs to skim over her needy cunt.
I tap the crop against her slit just hard enough for it to sting. She yelps, and her hips buck.
“Good little sluts know how to take their punishments. Are you going to be my good little slut, Holly?”
“Yes, sir,” she answers as the crop makes its way to the soft curve of her ass.
“How many did you collect tonight, Holly?”
“Eight,” she answers after a moment’s hesitation.
“You will count.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
The first smack with the crop is a light one, but the leather still leaves a mark on her skin. Her body jerks, and her fingers grip onto the sheets below her.
“One.”
The second one that lands is harder, causing her to cry out before the count of two falls from her lips. Each smack of the crop after that increases in intensity until I hear her say the warning word.