Page 59 of Escape Velocity

“Yes, master.”

He might have said he wasn’t her master, but for the time being, he was.

He gestured toward a carry box at the side of the room. “Fold everything neatly and lay them there. Then bend over the table and grasp the straps again.

He watched her take off her dress, folding it carefully before reaching for her underpants. He let out a little breath when he saw her hands trembling slightly. This was real for her. And it was becoming real for him as well.

When she was naked, she crossed to the thongs and stretched to reach them, her hands clenching around the leather.

“Spread your legs,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because I said to,” he snapped. “And you did not have permission to speak. For emphasis, he gave her a swat across the bottom and felt her wince.

When she’d spread her legs, he checked her position.

“Move back a little.”

She scooted back, still holding the thongs, and he knew he had her where he wanted her.

With her positioned just so, he permitted himself the luxury of stepping back a few paces and looking at the tempting sight of her bent across the table, her pretty ass facing him and her cunny within easy reach.

He had wondered if he could go through this. Now he was thinking she was right. The punishment would clear the air between them. Plus, he couldn’t stop himself from reacting to the erotic possibilities of the situation. He would never have done this to a woman if she hadn’t insisted. He silently admitted it was charging him up.

When she started to turn her head to look at him, he slapped her on the bottom. “Keep your face away from me.”

He had swatted her butt. He did it again, feeling his palm connect with her soft flesh. He spanked her several more times, watching her skin redden and listened to her breath accelerating.

He pinched the reddened flesh, then reached down between her cheeks, to the front side of her, finding the hidden valley between her legs.

“What are you doing?” she gasped out.

“What I want to do.”

“Why?”

“You said I could choose your punishment. I want you to suffer with the need for release.”

She made a small sound of surprise as he circled her clit, then dipped into her vagina, sliding his finger in and out. When she turned hot and wet, he took his hand away.

He wanted to pull off his own clothing, but he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he shed his pants. He settled for shucking his shirt and walking over to fold it on top of the clothing she’d left on the storage box.

He’d said he wanted her to suffer with the need for sexual climax. He was doing the same damn thing to himself, making his blood rush hotly in his veins. This woman had given him control over her body. He could do what he wanted to her. And he was finding he wanted to fek her brains out. But not yet.

When he returned to her, he moved in close, pressing his aching cock to the curve of her thigh, torturing himself before pulling away. The trouble with this game was that he didn’t know how long he could play it without exploding.

Ideas flitted through his mind. He could make her kneel in front of him and give him a blow job. But he didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to spoil the pleasure of feking her by taking away any of his own need.

He bent over her, his teeth playing with her shoulder.

“Raise your chest,” he ordered, and she complied so that he could stroke her breasts before squeezing first one nipple and then the other.

When she made a small needy sound, he pulled his hand away and watched her flop back to the table.

When he laid his hand on her ass again, he could feel her body quivering, feel the heat coursing through his own body. He pressed his cheek to her shoulder while he stroked the curve of her hip, the ridges of her ribs.

Then he pulled away, giving her swats on the bottom again.

---