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His hand meets your ass again. The skin is already red and burning, but you moan in pleasure at the contact. Sitting in a chair right behind you, Roger admires the view of you bent over his work desk, your ass arched up, giving him a clear and perfect view of your dripping pussy, two of your fingers inside — stilled, agonizingly waiting for him to tell you that you can move them again.
“You know what you did.” He soothes the slap he gave you with his palm, and you shudder. “Let’s try again. You’ll be a good girl this time, yes?”
You nod, and he squeezes your flesh as a warning — use your words. You gasp, shutting your eyes to concentrate on forming a coherent sentence. “Ah—Yes, Roger, I’ll be good!” Your voice comes out in ragged breaths. “I’ll listen to you and be good.”
“We’ll see,” he smirks. “Now, you can start moving again, slowly.”
“L-like this?” you ask as you follow his instructions.
He’s been guiding you for a while now. Every time you don’t do what he says, he punishes you. It’s getting harder and harder to stop when he tells you to or to avoid getting too excited and doing more than he said you could, which explains why your ass ended up like this. Sometimes, you wonder if a part of you does it on purpose just to have him smack you again.
“Yes, just like that,” he hums in appreciation, kissing your ass cheek. You whine, and he smiles against your skin. The next thing you feel is his teeth, gently biting you, making you snap your eyes open and stop your fingers as you look back at him over your shoulder. Roger remains still, amber eyes locked on yours, listening to your every sound to assess whether your reaction is good or bad. After a few seconds, he concludes that you didn’t dislike it — you were just caught by surprise. He grins and bites your ass again, his hand squeezing the other. “You stopped your fingers, lil’ lady,” he warns. You gasp and start moving them again, moaning and gripping the edge of the table with your other hand.
He grabs your ass firmly and lifts your cheeks so he can get an even better view of your fingers moving in and out, glistening with your juices. The sound is amazing to him, and he sits back in the chair to watch and appreciate it better. His big, rough hands never leave you, continuing to caress and grope every part of you they can reach, while his baritone voice tells you to pick up the pace a little.
Your fingers keep following Roger’s every command. You spread them to scissor yourself, go as deep as you can, and curl them just close enough to that spongy spot — but not close enough to make you see the stars you so desperately want. The pace is more deep than fast, almost torturous, and you whine in need with every thrust.
You’re not allowed to rub your clit yet, and every second feels like you’re only teasing yourself more and more. Half of you wants to speed up and discreetly touch your clit with your thumb, but that’s what got you punished last time. The thought alone makes you moan, and you’re quite sure Roger knows you don’t really consider it a punishment anymore, but he keeps quiet.
It’s torturous and maddening, and you can feel the rhythmic pace building you up slowly and steadily. Your walls flutter more and more around your fingers with every thrust, but you need a little more; just a little—
“Roger…” you call in a breathless moan, and he hums in acknowledgment. “I want… I need more…”
“You’ve been good for a while. My good girl,” he praises you, watching how your fingers stutter, a sly smile plastered on his face. His hand travels from your butt to your back, his fingertips tracing your spine and making you arch against his touch. “Use your thumb, sweetheart. Touch your clit like this.” He demonstrates by rubbing your back.
You don’t waste any time doing as he says, and the touch makes you sigh. He presses and rubs his thumb against your skin and watches delightfully as you copy his movements, and how it makes you moan his name so beautifully. He can tell you’re getting close again, and to be honest he doesn’t know if he can hold back much longer before pounding you.
“You’re doing a great job, lil’ lady.” His hand slides back to your ass, giving it a gentle slap and a squeeze that makes you whimper. “You keep going just like that. Don’t stop.”
Roger gets up from the chair and hovers over you. His chest presses against your back, his hot breath tickling your nape, and he smirks at the sight of your goosebumps. His hand moves down your ass to between your legs, finding your entrance. Without hesitation, Roger easily slides one finger inside alongside yours. You moan as your fingers stutter and slow down to almost a pause. His other hand smacks your ass, making your pussy clench tightly.
“I told you not to stop,” he whispers in your ear.
“R-Roger,” you whine his name, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.
“Move, lil’ lady,” he warns, biting softly at the shell of your ear. “You keep the rhythm I told you, and I’ll help you cum.” He emphasizes his point by thrusting his finger deeper.
You groan and pick up the pace again. When Roger knows you’ll keep it, he changes the angle of his finger and moves yours too, hitting your sweet spot. You cry out, your fingers working in tandem, building your pleasure. His lips caress your shoulder, peppering kisses and gentle bites on your skin. At this point, you can only moan and try to call his name. Every thrust brings you closer, the feeling of him so close and grunting next to your ear making it too hard to keep your composure and follow his lead. But he knows you’re this close to snap, and he really wants to see you come undone.
“You’re squeezing me so tightly,” Roger lets out an almost animalistic growl and bites the junction of your shoulder and neck, eliciting a loud moan from you. He admires the hickey for a moment before speaking to you again, his voice dropping and becoming deeper than usual. “Cum for me.”
And your body obeys without hesitation.
You cry out loud, shaking beneath him as your pussy flutters and clenches hard. He rides you through your orgasm, enjoying how you whine when it becomes too much. Your furrowed brows, your watery, shining eyes, your parted lips already dry from moaning and calling his name so much… he wanted to give you time to rest, but he reconsiders his plans.
He pulls out his finger, letting you pull out yours. You stay quiet over the table, starting to close your eyes to catch your breath when you get startled by the feeling of your body being lifted. You yelp and throw your arms around his broad shoulders as he holds you bridal style. Roger kisses your temple and turns to walk out of the basement to his bedroom.
Your ass is still sore, and your legs feel like jelly, but when he gently places you on top of his mattress, all of that disappears, and you can only think of his body over yours and how you want to have more of him.
His egotistical ways seem to have rubbed off on you.