Welcome to Saturday Spankings, today I have a free ebook for all of you pain and pleasure lovers. It's titled CONFETTI AND COLLARS and is a co-author by myself and Natalie Dae.
Here's a snippet...
He takes a couple of steps towards you, his thickened presence tells you that, and the wooden boards creak. The sound splinters your nerve endings, sending spikes of electricity careening through your body. You shiver, let the sensations spread and dance. Hold your breath until your head spins. He presses a hand to your arse cheek, and you jump, remember to breathe. With circular movements, he warms your skin. You rock slightly from the attention, tiny shards of pain pinging from your knees and up your thighs. Delicious, that’s what this is, the preparation before the finale, the practice before the real deal.
“Your arse is hot, pet. So very hot. Almost ready to take the gift I have for it.”
Gift. He always calls it that, and he’s right. What he gives you is a present, one that is unwrapped slowly, the paper ripped in increments, never wrenched off in one rushing pull. You have to wait to see what the removal of the paper reveals, getting glimpses of what’s on offer but never the full picture until the last piece of wrap has fallen away.
Christmas. Every day with him is like Christmas.
He taps your arse, gently at first, a soft set of beats that become harder and faster. Your skin tingles, and not just where he’s striking, ensuring you close your eyes in order to get where you need to be. You’re standing at the arrivals gate, about to check in. Once you hand your ticket over, you’re free to fly.
Heat spreads from the abused area, the edges of that heat prickly as it meets with cooler skin. With each slap his fingertips get closer to your cunt lips, setting off a vibration that threatens to send you over the edge too soon. You hold your breath again, willing yourself not to allow the tendrils of pleasure to change into something much stronger. No, now isn’t the time to indulge, to come. You’re only allowed to do that when he tells you so.
His strikes are harder now, a couple of seconds between each one as he undoubtedly lifts his hand farther away in order to give you a good whack. And they’re good, so bloody good—the best.
“Nearly there, pet,” he says, smacking, smacking, smacking.
Very sensual and erotic. Nicely done.
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