‘Let me demonstrate.’
Jasper paused the video.
‘I’m not going to keep the ginger bit,’ he said. ‘Not in the final script. Think it’s too fetishy for the middlebrow.’
‘Yeah, you’re probably right,’ I said.
‘But it was good, though,’ he said with a grin.
‘Depends on your interpretation of good.’ My waspish tone widened his grin still further and he dropped a swift kiss on my lips.
‘You love it,’ he said, and I didn’t deny it.
He resumed the film. Dunraven removed a plug-shaped piece of ginger from a glass of water on the table and brandished it in Walters’s face.
‘Can you imagine where I might place this?’ he asked.
I had presumed Walters to be innocently unaware of this peculiar function of the spice, so I had played dumb.
‘N-no, sir.’
‘Actions will speak louder than words, in this case,’ he said, moving around to Walters’s rear.
I cringed at the screen, but my excitement mounted as I watched Dunraven part my linen drawers behind with fussy, exacting fingers, until my bottom was bare and framed by their white folds. I could see the faint marks from the recent punishment but for the purposes of the film we had to pretend they weren’t there. It was difficult not to wince when he ran his fingertips over the curves, stroking my skin into enhanced sensitivity.
I thought about how hard I had had to work not to look or sound turned on. Then I had to act surprised, shocked even, when he parted my cheeks and introduced the rounded nub of the ginger root to my bottom.
I think I did this quite well.
‘Sir, what are you doing? Sir, please, no.’
But he pushed the yellowish plug slowly and firmly onward. I watched it disappear by degrees, swallowed until only the flange at the end remained. It had felt cold and slippery but it had entered with ease.
When I glanced at Jasper I saw that he was biting his cheeks and his eyes had that drugged, faraway look of avid lust in them.
‘How does that feel?’ he whispered, although Dunraven didn’t speak the words until quite a bit later in the scene.
‘Are you asking me?’
He still had my hand in his and I twisted it a little to get his attention.
‘Yeah,’ he said, looking my way. ‘Tell me how it felt.’
He paused the film again for my reply.
‘Freezing cold at first,’ I said. ‘So I was maybe a bit numb to start off with. Then it started to warm up, quite slowly. It felt really nice for a while, tingly. Then it got uncomfortable. Then it got really uncomfortable. You could see what it was doing to me.’
‘Yes, I could.’ He looked down at his lap and I couldn’t help noticing the bulge in his trousers. ‘The way you squirmed and gibbered, dear God. I have to watch it again.’
After he pressed Play, he pulled me on to his lap and held me there, moving a hand underneath my skirt and up the smooth expanse of my thigh. I nestled there, enjoying the closeness and his bold use of me, watching the screen.
‘Have you had your behind used in this manner before?’ asked Dunraven of poor bemused Walters.
‘Never, sir.’
‘Be warned. It is one of my favoured modes of punishment. You may expect to have your bottom filled whenever you transgress. It gives me the most exquisite pleasure to witness your humiliation and discomfort.’
I could see it was starting to burn. I was swaying my hips from side to side and my eyes were squeezed shut.