Page 17 of Stripping Little Seraphina
At first, she tried to hide it. Tried to force herself still. But I’d been watching submissives for years—I knew nervous fidgeting when I saw it.
I set her plate down, then crouched beside her chair so we were eye-level. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she blurted, eyes darting away.
I tilted my head. “Is it soreness? Bruising?”
Her gaze snapped back, indignant. “No.”
I let it fly for now since feeding her was more important. But after her behavior continued through dinner, I’d had enough.
“Strip.”
Her breath caught. “What? Here?”
“Yes. Here. Now.” My voice softened, but there was no room for debate.
Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, but slowly, shakily, she peeled out of her jeans.
And the truth revealed itself. Not bruising. Not discomfort.Arousal.Her thighs pressed together, the flush high on her chest, the way her breathing hitched when the air hit her dampskin. But there was no hiding the dampness in the seat of her panties.
Understanding dawned. “Oh,” I murmured. “So that’s the problem.”
Her face went crimson. “Shut up.”
I arched my brow. “Try again.”
She clenched her jaw, defiance radiating. “I said, shut?—”
The chair scraped the floor as I pulled it back, sat in her seat, and pulled her over my lap again. The first crack of my palm against her bare skin made her gasp. She twisted, not away from me—buttowardme. Grinding, needy, her wetness soaking against my thigh as I disciplined her.
Her whimpers shifted into soft moans, her hips betraying her body’s desperation.
I stilled my hand, my voice low against her ear. “You’re aching, aren’t you, little one? You’ve been needing me since this afternoon, haven't you?”
She trembled. “Y-yes…” Her cheeks on both her ass and her face matched in color. The blushing Little was embarrassed about her excitement.
“Then you have a choice.” I dragged my fingers along the inside of her thigh, not touching where she wanted me most. “Do you want my mouth on you… or my fingers strumming your clit until you scream?”
Her answer was instant, breathless. “Mouth. Please.”
“Good girl.”
I guided her across the room and laid her on the couch, spreading her thighs, and lowered myself between them. Sera gasped as the reality of the situation dawned on her.
“Eyes on me,” I commanded her.
Her inhale was unmistakable. “Yes…”
“Yes, what?” I prompted her while nibbling along her cleft.
“Mistress…”
“That’ll do.”
Her taste was intoxicating, her cries addictive. I devoured her with patience and precision, working her until she shattered once…
Gripping her thighs, caressing her softness with the underside of my tongue, before gently pulling her clit into my mouth. Her body arched toward me, and I pulled back to let her slip between my lips. I kissed along her labia, down to her opening, and teased it with the sides of my tongue.
