Once he’s in position, I deliver a devastating slap to Zurielle’s ass. If this wasn’t a punishment, I’d warm her up a bit more first, but that’s not on the current agenda.
She cries out and jerks forward, but the couch arm stops her from being able to escape the second strike on her other ass cheek. Her skin blooms a delightful pink, and I hit her again, layering the strikes a little and changing up the tempo so she can’t anticipate me. I’m not hitting her hard enough to truly bruise, but she’ll feel the sting for a bit.
She writhes, her breath sobbing out. I squeeze her ass, both soothing and riling her up. “Tell me how you feel.”
“It hurts,” she sobs. “It hurts so much.”
Disappointment flares, but I shove it down. This is just another reminder that Zurielle isn’t for the keeping. “Do not disobey me again.” I trace my thumbs down the lower curve of her ass and pause. “Zurielle?”
“Yes, Mistress?”
I stroke my thumbs over her pussy. She’s wet. Positively drenched. “Is all this from my mouth earlier? Answer honestly.”
She hesitates so long, I almost give her another smack. Finally, she speaks in a small voice. “No, it’s not just from your mouth.”
“Explain.” Cruel to demand this of her when she’s obviously embarrassed, but I don’t care. I am cruel when I want to be. Right now is one of those times.
“It hurts.” She draws in a shuddering breath, her fingers spasming on the couch cushion. “But it’s made my skin feel like it’s on fire, and I can feel my heartbeat in my pussy.”
“Mmm.” Many people have this response to spanking, but I can take nothing for granted. “Do you want me to stop?”
“I…” She buries her face in the cushion, and I almost miss her reply. “No, Mistress.”
A fucking delight.
I give her clit a sweet little stroke and then go back to spanking her. She’s too new to take it much farther than I already have, but I enjoy the cries she makes. Just like I enjoy the heat in Alaric’s gaze as he watches us. I give Zurielle’s ass one last squeeze and turn to lean against the arm of the couch next to her. I crook my finger at Alaric. “Come here, lover.”
Zurielle starts to sit up, but I place my hand on the space between her shoulder blades. “Hold still.”
She tenses but manages to stay silent. Good girl. This is a different kind of punishment, one that I plan to enjoy just as much as the first.
Alaric gives me a questioning look and, when I nod, lifts my dress. He peppers kisses up my thighs and then his mouth is on my pussy. He growls against my flesh, the dirty boy. I hold Zurielle down as Alaric licks me. It feels so strangely right to have both of them here, both of them catering to my whims, taking care of both of their needs. I dig the fingers of my free hand into Alaric’s hair and guide him up to my clit. “Make me come. You can take your time later.”
He makes another growling sound but obeys, licking and sucking me the way I like. I’m already halfway there from playing with Zurielle, and it takes only a few minutes before my breath catches and I grind against Alaric’s mouth as my orgasm crashes over me. I let him keep kissing my pussy, enjoying how much he enjoys this. He might be selfish when it comes to having his needs met and pretending not to be guilt-ridden the rest of the time, but when Alaric is on his knees, he gives himself over to being mine entirely. It never stops being a heady feeling.
I nudge Alaric back and fix my dress. “Go get her purse.” I don’t watch him to ensure he obeys. He will. I turn my attention to Zurielle and help her stand. She weaves a bit on her feet, and I catch her elbow. “I have plans for you, little Zurielle, but one thing has to happen first.”
She blinks those big brown eyes at me and opens her mouth, no doubt to pepper me with questions, but remembers herself at last moment and closes it.
Alaric returns to the living room with Zurielle’s purse in his hands. It’s just as small and cute as she is—and expensive. I nod. “Her phone.”
Zurielle tenses as Alaric digs through her purse. I can’t help being amused at how confused he seems when he comes up with item after item—tampons and gum and power bars—from the small space. “Fuck, how much shit can you pack in here?”
I give her a look. “Cis men are always so baffled at the hauling capabilities of purses.”
Zurielle gives a little laugh and presses her hands to her mouth like she’s surprised at her response. Alaric finally finds the phone and hands it over. I almost hate to wipe her laughter away, but this week isn’t all fun and games and fucking.