I begin to give in to the rush, let myself enjoy the experience. Relaxing until the rhythmic swats cease, dreading the next one, but dreading waiting even more. Getting wetter and wetter, wondering what I am doing? Realizing that at any time you could stop, but hoping that you won’t. Reveling in the pounding that my ass and back are taking. Remaining in the moment yet thinking about what is coming next. Dreading it, yet almost ready to beg for more. Almost.
Dealing with the humiliation of submitting to what I so dearly want, yet blushing at the thought. Feeling my entire body heat up as my pussy swells up with need. Telling myself I hate what you are doing to me, yet betrayed by my own body. Desperately needing to ask for more, trying to form the words “please Sir”. They won’t come out fueling my frustration. Wanting to ask for more, asking you to go harder, at the same time, afraid of what I will get.
I hear her out in the other room, wondering if I she can hear me, occasionally letting her enter my mind. Trying to focus, trying to stay quiet. I hear her near the door, does she hear me asking, “please”? What is going through her mind? Does she realize that right now I am ready to swallow my pride and ask for more? Does she realize how horny I and desperate I am to be filled right now?
I hear footsteps, I can’t watch. My eyes shut tightly I hear the door open. Did she come in? Not looking, not watching I know not who’s nails are raking across my fresh welts. I no longer care, not until they stop. I am filled with relief, and dread. Please don’t stop now.
I turn over, let you spread my legs. Cracking quickly against each thigh, raising welts instantly I recoil. I wish to close them against the pain, yet spreading them wider, like the slut in heat I am becoming. I hear the glove, feel your fingers pressing against my wetness. Almost not needing any lube, almost. You start to your hand into me. I flinch as your knuckles enter.
I sit up, eyes flashing open. I see her watching, unable any longer to pretend no one else is there. Unable to escape that soft smile that says she knows what I am thinking. I turn an even deeper shade of red as you make me ask once again, entire body burning of embarrassment at the struggle within. Making me utter in front of a witness, “please Sir”. Near tears with frustration, I whisper those words. Hearing that chuckle and the words “pardon me”. I take the time to reshape the thoughts that are racing through my mind, and utter those dreaded words, louder so that my need is shared with all in the room.
Slowing working your way into me, mind and body, twisting and stretching, I look to her for help. Not knowing what to ask for. Knowing that she can’t help right now, other than to add to my torment. Seeing nothing but that she too ached with need.
I am ready to beg, please Sir, may I cum? Your hand deep within me, your other hand upon my throat, you whisper “yes slut you may”. Nothing matters anymore, all the tension floods away. I am spent, mentally and physically. I allow myself to relax as your hand is drawn away. How I hate that empty feeling. Mirroring the smile I saw on her just moments ago I watch as you fuck her. All is well.