Even now, as I sit upon a punished bottom, I am almost eager to push just a bit more. I want to feel the pulsating, near-pleasurable feeling deep in my belly and between my legs when he commands me. I swallow, mustering up my courage. I lick my lips. When I speak, my voice is strangely husky. “And if I choose not to eat?” I ask, feigning braveness as I thrust out my chin. I am not prepared to intentionally defy him. I simply need to see what his response will be.
His hand on my thigh pauses, as he stares curiously at me for a moment. “Are you prepared to disobey me?” he asks. Disobey. The word causes my heart to stutter a steady rhythm within me.
I shake my head. I truly do not wish to experience his wrath again. “Was there a command to follow?” I ask. “You simply said I may eat.”
His lips twitch, his eyes twinkling at me. He nods. “Quite right,” he says, his hand moving slowly up my leg. I gasp. The pulsing between my legs throbs. “I have not given you a command to eat. However, it is my desire that you do so.” Gently, his fingers dip further up my leg. He’s tracing soft circles upon my skin, the heat of his palm somehow transferring to the heat of my body. How could this be happening? I have never felt such urges before. My body is begging him to go further up, continue whatever he is doing, and not to remove his touch. He is so close now, his breath is a mere whisper. “Will you obey me, Carina?” he asks in a low rumble. “Or shall I take you across my knee again?”
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