huge bed, pushing me onto it carefully and letting my legs sprawl open.
Randall pinned me to the bed, kissing me deeply while his hands teased me. I could feel his hard cock pressing against me through his clothes; Randall was as turned on by the prospect of punishing me as I was by the idea of being punished. He slowly worked his way down along my body, teasing and caressing my breasts before slipping down to my pussy. I writhed on the bed underneath him, pinned by his weight and made helpless by the tie binding my wrists together as he rubbed my clit, firm and fast, keeping my legs spread open somehow in spite of my instinct to close them. “Remember, Jasmine—this is your punishment. If you don’t behave properly now, I’ll have no other choice but to spank you.” I nodded, moaning out as Randall’s fingers played with me, flicking across my clit and then retreating until I was panting, my hips moving automatically.
I was on the very edge of orgasm—so close that I could taste it—when Randall withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips and licking them clean. He chuckled as I tried to twist and move, whimpering from being so close to climax only to have the relief taken away. “This is the punishment you chose,” he reminded me, tweaking my nipples playfully. “Stay here.” He climbed off of the bed, taking off his blazer and rolling up his sleeves as he wandered around the room in search of something. I followed him with my gaze, watching as he opened drawers and inspected the room; I wondered what he was looking for. I caught sight of his smile in profile as his eyes lit on something. “Ah, here we go. I’ll have to buy it; I suppose—certainly don’t want any questions about how this was used.” He pulled a large back massager wand out of a drawer, showing it to me with a little grin. “I suspect I’m not the first one to have this predicament, however.” He came back to the bed, flicking a switch on the base of the wand. It came to life, humming and buzzing lowly, and I watched and listened as Randall moved through the different massage settings, finding one he liked.
I cried out when Randall brushed the massage head along my slick labia, giving me a brief, teasing taste. “You’re so deliciously wet, my dear,” Randall observed, pressing it more firmly against my pussy, until the low, constant vibrations were all that I cared about. I writhed, twisting my hips, needing more contact with the stimulus, and Randall chuckled, spreading my labia and keeping me pinned to the bed as he pressed the massage head against my clit, rubbing slightly.
“Ohhh, oh God, oh fuck,” I said, panting, my back arching up off of the bed. Randall switched between settings, activating the heat function and moving between fast throbbing and low pulses, driving me absolutely crazy with lust. He moved the massager around, pressing it right up against my clit before retreating, teasing me relentlessly.
He got rid of the massager for a long moment, setting it aside as he plunged his fingers deep inside of me. I was moaning, panting and whimpering as he thrust his fingers in and pulled them out, pushing deeper and deeper into my pussy with every movement of his hand. His thumb pressed against my clit and I almost couldn’t hold back—and then he retreated completely, withdrawing his fingers and leaving me to shiver and shake, gasping and panting. I felt a mixture of arousal and dread as he picked up the massager again, turning it on high with the heat setting and running it along my inner thighs, teasing me while he waited for my arousal to subside long enough to torture me again. I twisted and moved on the bed, crying out every time Randall withdrew the makeshift vibrator—every time he denied me the climax I so desperately needed. I lost count of how many times Randall brought me to the very edge of orgasm, only to leave me shaking and whimpering, strung out and needy for
John Steinbeck, Richard Astro