Page 108 of Agency

“You want it, don’t you?” I asked, grinding my voice down to a hard, sharp edge. “To be punished.”

The breath she’d sucked in now released as a low, whining moan, and her hips went from gyrating her pussy to pushing back into my hand on her ass.

“Don’t you?” I asked again, this time softer.

“Yes sir,” she said, a catch in her voice. “Yes sir, I want–I need–to be punished.”

“Count.”

“What?”

“Count.”

“Count wh—?”

My hand came down on that perfect, pale globe with a crack that reverberated through her whole body, and into mine. She let out a startled yelp, which immediately tapered off into a moan.

“Count them,” I growled. “Count, Ambyr, or I’ll lose track and never know when to stop. And I don’t get tired, slut.”

“One,” she said, her voice half-whisper, half-whimper.

Smack.

“Two!”

Smack.

“Three!”

I paused to rub her cheek, to feel the warmth of her bright red skin against the palm of my hand. As I did, my other hand slipped between us and I adjusted my cock. She swallowed against the pain, but then her breath caught in her throat as I switched hands and began to rub my cock across her clit. Back down and over her lips, I went, then back up and across her sensitive nub. The moment she moaned, I struck down with my other hand on the opposite cheek from before.

“Four!” she said, hips gyrating and rubbing her silky wetness against me, setting off phosphorous flares in my brain. Bright white, almost painful to see.

“Five! Six! Seven! Eight! Harder, sir!”

I went harder, alternating between cheeks every three or four hits.

She shuddered, croaked out something barely intelligible: “Nine!”

I kept going. And she kept counting. Around fifteen, I began to chastise her in a harsh whisper, right in her ear.

“You know you asked for this, don’t you?”

“Yes sir,” she said, her voice a whimper. “Please, sir. Punish me.”

“You know this is what you deserve…”

“Harder, sir. Please.”

I kept going. And going, and going…

Time seemed to slip by as my palm brightened in pain, and Ambyr continued to shake and count for me like a good little slut in need of proper punishment.

However long later, she gasped as my hand landed, and she sounded desperate for breath, as if she’d just sprinted five miles in full battle rattle. “Thirty-five,” she said in a choked, rasping voice, and then her whole body shuddered in my arms, as if I were holding onto the diesel-fueled ginny out back of the house.

“Thirty-six,” she gasped as my hand again came down, and I didn’t stop her from rotating, gyrating, grinding on my cock. “Thirty-seven.” She choked back a sob, and I leaned back, saw the tears trickling down her cheeks, even as her body trembled from her pending orgasm.

I paused as I looked into her eyes.