To Move, Or Not To Move
I stood looking inside the room that was deemed His. The office was organized in an “I know where everything is” kind of way. There were notes, pens, highlighters, and such lying about; just where he’d left them when I’d crawled in here last night. I’d had the thought to crawl up to his lap and give him the perfect distraction. My lips wrapped around his shaft, the perfect solution. As always, when things got heavy, we moved from the office into other quarters of his apartment. There was one rule that stood out more than any others. “Don’t move my stuff.” Little did he know I itched to move everything half a centimeter to the right.
I looked toward the bedroom and heard silence. My feet were glued to the spot but I knew that if my plan was going to work I would have to act quickly. I put my foot down over the threshold and my anxiety turned into productive adrenaline giving me the boost that I needed. I stood in front of the desk and the grin on my face was just as wicked as I felt. I reached out to move the ink pen in front of the monitor and when no booby-traps were activated, I squealed inside. I proceeded to shift things over when I heard a throat being cleared. I paused turning my head slowly to see Him in the doorway, leaning on the door-frame. I bit the side of my lip and then looked down to see the stapler that I was about to move.
The warning was a direct stimulant to my clit. I licked my lips nervously and looked over at him as I slid the stapler over from its original post. I then moved the keyboard but before I could reach the monitor, he was pressed up behind me. I groaned feeling the rush of the moment. His hand snaked up my body, parting the bathrobe that I was wearing. My breathing was heavy, labored. Anticipation of his next move kept me on edge. His other hand caressed my neck before he wrapped it around my throat holding me.
I swayed overwhelmed by Him. My heart raced but my breathing slowed, hallowed as he applied pressure. My hand moved knocking something to the floor and the growl that I heard vibrated through the room. Air hit my ass just before two blazing spanks were delivered in quick succession. I moaned needing more. More of Him. He bent me over the desk, spreading my legs, and entered me quickly. I heard another growl and grunt before he spanked me again. I trembled already on edge.
“You just couldn’t resist, could you?”
“No.” I admitted.
“And now you’ll pay the price.”
I clamped my muscles around his shaft fighting back in my own way.
“Harder.” He grunted.
I did, unable to deny him.
“That’s my fuck-doll.”
I moaned loud as my body trembled. I shook hard. Not able to withstand the spasms I held onto the desk, supporting me. My legs were shaky and my vision blurred losing focus.
“No, no, no… Not until I tell you to come.”
I whined knowing that I’d hold it as long as I needed to. I could. I knew I would. But things got complicated when he spanked me hard and long just before he began moving inside me. I couldn’t tell you where one pleasure began and one ended. I didn’t know if the orgasm riding me was being held at bay or if it was coursing through me to completion. The one thing I could tell you was that I was His and for however long it took I granted the use of my body.
Loud growls, grunts, and strangled moans were like music to my ears causing me to lose even more focus on reality. He was finding pleasure in my submission in the same way that I found it from his dominance. The experience was exhilarating and as my high faltered a bit, I knew that my orgasm was still at bay, painfully waiting for one command.
“You want me to come for you?” He asked hoarsely. Sarcasm dripped from every word.
“Please!” I needed him to come just as badly as I wanted to.
There were no words that followed just his wild, bucking, hard, and deep strokes that grew shallow. Warmth flowed from him to me and I gripped the desk a little tighter. The lesson was obvious, but I had hope still as my body shook fighting back the orgasm that teetered on the edge. He withdrew from me and cum dripped down my thighs further marking me as his.
“Bad girls who move my things don’t get rewards, baby girl.”
I hung my head, knowing that he would retaliate. After a moment of recouping, I felt a warm cloth cleaning me. I smiled still floating a bit. I’d earned every bit of this and though I should be disappointed, satisfaction burned through me. I’d pleased Him with my body and myself with mischief. It was a win-win.
(Image #1 source Tumblr, Image #2 source Tumblr)
© 2016. Jade Royal. All Rights Reserved.
3 thoughts on “4.14.2016: To Move, Or Not To Move”
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😈Aww bad girls don’t get rewards? Or is being bad the reward?
Thanks for enother great read. Read u next time😈
No problem… Until the next time!