Page 31 of A Gold Medal in Love

I get nothing in answer, and I hit her again.

“You may answer,” I tell her.

“Yes, Sir.” She decides on the safest response.

“Hm. Do you think if I check your pussy right now, you’ll be wet?” I muse.

She scoffs. “No one gets wet from being hit.”

“And yet, here we are. I’m curious. And you wouldn’t deny your Sir a curiosity, would you?” I ask with fake wonder.

“No, no, no!” She yelps.

I pause. “What’s your color, Imani?”

She pauses with me, and I hear an audible gulp. “Green,” she confesses.

I nod and push her cheeks open, revealing an ebony pussy that is positively shining with cream. “What a beautiful sight this is, Cupcake. Is this all for your Sir?”

Imani squirms around but refuses to answer.

I smack her ass three times in succession.

“Yes! Yes, Sir! It’s for you!” She answers immediately.

“Better. What do you think I should do with this greedy cunt?” I ponder.

Imani snorts. “Obviously, fuck me.”

I swat her three more times, but this time in the same spot.

“Ah! I mean—whatever Sir wishes to do with me,” she tries again.

“Very good, Cupcake,” I praise her for the swift correction. With Imani being as smart as she is, the only thing really in her way of being a good submissive is that fucking smartass mouth. I can’t deny I do enjoy the bratting, though.

I take another lingering look at her ass and pull her bottoms back up.

She flips over and stares at me open-mouthed. “What the fuck? You’re not going to fuck me?”

“Lesson three: when I snap once, you correct with ‘yes, Sir.’ When I snap and point to the space in front of me, you return to Nadu,” I explain, and proceed to do the latter.

The brat is well and active, because Imani sticks out her tongue before doing as she’s told, finding a place on the floor at my feet.

“Head up, Cupcake,” I demand.

Her eyes find mine with excitement.

“That’s all for today. You did exceptionally well—I’m very pleased,” I praise her, and watch the pleasure at my words flit across her features.

“But—” Imani begins, but I snap once. “Yes, Sir… Permission to ask a question, Sir?”

“Goodgirl. Yes, you may,” I allow.

“I don’t know how I can please you if I didn’t do anything?” Imani phrases the statement like a question.

I lay down on the bed, making room for her and beckoning her into the spot. When she settles in next to me, I spoon her into my arms and wait for her to relax into my body. It’s absolute heaven to feel her pressed up against me. Only when her breathing evens out do I answer her question. “You’re right about us not having a lot of time. But if I’m going to be your first kinky experience, I have to take all the time possible. We’re not going to get very far, sure, but if you come out of this week wanting to continue your journey with someone else, you’ll know how you’re supposed to be treated. I’m not going to have you walking out of my arms and walking into the clutches of a fake Dom. I want this week imprinted on your mind permanently, and I want it to be as valuable as it is sexy.”

“I hate how reasonable that sounds,” she admits, causing me to laugh.