Page 81 of Auctioned Surrender

She answers by squirming, rubbing her pussy against my lap, trying to take pleasure for herself. I quit stroking and smack her on the ass too gently to really smart. A little tap to let her know I’m here. “No pleasure for you unless I decide to give it to you, princess.”

Layla realizes what she’s done. “I’m sorry,” she says, and the soft sound of her submission taking root tells me she needs this as much as I do.

“That’s alright, princess. You’ll learn in time.” I realize that we will have time together, some type of future together because regardless of her aversion to giving up dancing topless, she is going to be mine. One way or another, we will work this out because the incredible attraction to this fiery and mysterious submissive is much more than skin deep or something that will ever wane. This magnetism to my princess doesn’t let go, only gets more potent, and with every encounter she tugs on my dominance with a power that won’t let go.

“Ready, princess?” I ask, caressing the warmed skin exposed and tilted upright in a perfect position for my lesson.

“I’m ready,” she says, so softly it’s barely audible.

My open hand rubs her cheeks a few more times, letting her anticipation of what’s to come grow before landing it on her upturned ass.

She squeals and automatically wiggles out of position, trying to ward off my hand.

“Back in position, princess. This is just a warmup. Relax your body, especially your cheeks, and settle into it. It will get you ready for your well-deserved spanking.”

Layla gently huffs but does as I ask. I bring my open palm down, landing on her delicate ass cheeks, one then the other, and then again, getting her skin nice and warm. Her breathing is regular, and she’s doing well, pressed firmly into my lap when I begin. The first hand to her ass, the one she’s intended to feel, does precisely that.

Layla squeals but remains firmly pressed against my lap.

I’m pleased with Layla’s ability to get her head wrapped around an experience so new. I continue, bringing my hand down, alternating ass cheeks with careful purpose, each one meant to ensure she knows exactly what a consequence feels like, hoping to create a deterrent in the future.

We’re just over halfway through when she lifts her head and stretches her arms, trying to cover her ass.

“Hands down, princess, or we start over each time they get in the way,” I say, ensuring the burn is real to reinforce the need for her to stay in position after I’ve asked her to do just that.

I’m rewarded with a little cry. Layla’s hands remain hanging over my lap, although her body has tensed with the passion and sting to her backside.

My fiery beauty is brave and courageous, taking her punishment with the same determination and passion that she gives to everything. If she asked me to stop, it would be over immediately. Instead, she weathers through the last few strokes of her spanking, meant to last in her memory, and only loses position and slackens against my legs as my hand ceases its pattern across her ass.

I caress her, something I’m not usually inclined to do. “That’s as hard a spanking as it will get with me, Layla, but you should know that if that’s not a deterrent, there are plenty of other ways to curb a naughty submissive’s errant ways. The next time, you might find your plug replaced with a wet piece of ginger root. Let me warn you. It’s not a punishment you would like.”

She remains silent but brushes herself against my crotch as I continue to rub her ass, making it difficult for me to stop her motion, but I do. “Princess, who gives you your pleasure?” I ask.

“You give me my pleasure. I don’t take it. For the record, I’m sorry about lying and everything else,” Layla says, wiping her tears shyly and causing my cock to strain against my pants as it seeks her heat.

I don’t tell her it’s okay because it’s not, and as if just now realizing what she’s doing, she stops gently grinding her pussy against my thigh.

“I didn’t expect to get so aroused,” Layla says gently, causing me to smile, looking down at my bare-assed passionate beauty. I shouldn’t give in or reward her with what she needs after a punishment, but nothing is going as prescribed by my rules with Layla, and this is no different.

I slide my hands beneath her so I can run a finger through her arousal. She murmurs her pleasure with that little sound she makes, causing my cock to throb hard against her belly.

Her body is tense, trying her best to keep from creating her pleasure instead of allowing me control over how it is delivered. I reward her well and put my rules aside, stroking through her wetness, letting her build and build until she cries out with the need to move against the pleasure. She tries to control herself, but she maintains her position perfectly. “Come for me, princess,” I instruct, and she moans my name over and over as her body trembles with her release and continues until I slow my movement and allow her ride to subside.

I assist her from my lap. “Kneel for me, princess,” I instruct, helping her into the position and watching her eyes still filled with haze. “Raise your arms for me.” When she has done what I ask, I lift the tank from her body, caressing down her neck, around her collarbone, and then dipping into the center of her cleavage. “So beautiful, princess,” I say, releasing her breastsfrom the sexy material before lifting her from her position and into my arms.

I lay down and bring her with me, cradling her body against mine before covering us both with the blanket on the couch.

Layla drifts, sleeping peacefully in my arms after giving herself to me willingly, trusting that I wouldn’t give her more than she could take, but all that she deserved. I contemplate how perfect my princess is, but the reality is that she isn’t mine. She’s been upfront and honest with me about her need to continue dancing. It’s something I’ll need to give serious consideration. It means more to her than I initially thought if she’s chosen it over other relationships in the past.

My mind goes to the wrapped towel, to the special gift I purchased for Layla and planned to give her tonight. It will keep until I know she’s mine. There has to be a middle ground because watching my princess dance for other men is not something I find palatable or acceptable, but diminishing something Layla loves so much does not interest me at all.

My cell buzzes. I reach into my pocket and pull it out, trying not to disturb Layla as I do.

Message: Bernatelli’s talking. Lead on the girl. Call ASAP.

I shift slightly and look down at Layla, who’s faded into a deep and restful sleep. I connect with the man I’ve hired, someone who does this kind of work for a living and will ensure any repercussions don’t come back to our team or the men who employ us.

“Sorry, man, I just wasn’t sure how to say this, and time is short.”

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