This is it: the final installment of the week! Are you excited or sad? Well, read on to find out how we wrap up this story! If you missed the previous posts, go back to the beginning: J is for Jazz and see all of our A to Z Posts.
O is for Open
“Open,” he said again, waiting for me to open my legs for him. I didn’t want to, but I knew I would be in big trouble if I didn’t do it then when he asked the second time.
I slid my legs apart, baring my pussy to him. He ran his fingers along the slit. I was still soaking wet. He smeared my juices across my inner thighs. I hated the way that felt, but I didn’t complain.
His fingers played with my clit some more, and I could feel that it was swelling with arousal. And then he pinched it again. I cried out and almost doubled over. And then he stopped. “So turned on, aren’t you slut?” he asked.
“Yes, Master.” I didn’t want to be, but I couldn’t help it.
“Hold still,” he directed.
I didn’t know what was coming next, but I tensed my muscles, trying to be prepared for whatever was coming. His hand left my hot pussy, and I wondered if he would choke me again or something, but instead, he smacked my pussy. A second time, a third. I moaned and nearly collapsed, but he had one arm around me so that I couldn’t collapse and I couldn’t go anywhere.
“Keep your legs open, slut,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I replied. I steeled myself again, trying harder.
He slapped my pussy again and again, three more times, four. I cried out with moaning sobs and let the tears flow down my cheeks as he hit me again, five times, six. “How many is that?” he asked me.
I knew that he knew exactly how many it was, and he was checking to see how much I was paying attention. “Six, Sir,” I said.
“Good girl. Count out loud,” he directed.
“Seven, thank you, Sir.” I knew that was what he wanted. “Eight, thank you, Sir.” He gave me enough time to say all the words, but the last two came in such quick succession that I didn’t have time to get out the whole phrase. “Nine, ten, thank you, Sir.”
“Good girl,” he praised. “How do you feel?”
“My pussy stings, Sir, but I’m okay,” I said. I knew I was leaning against him, but besides feeling weak in the knees, I was good. “I’m sorry I disobeyed you, Sir, I whispered.
He kissed me on the temple and pulled me into his arms. “It’s okay, pet. I still love you.”
“I love you, too, Master.”
“Now,” he said, “do you want to see what else the Masochistic Mistress gets up to in the next chapter?
“Yes, please, Sir,” I said, kneeling down in front of his chair again. He sat down, opened the book, and flipped to the next chapter. I rested my head against his knee as his deep voice started to read the next chapter aloud.