Chapter III: Isabella’s Tease

He seems pleased as I kneel on the cold wooden floor that is becoming harsh on my knees. He enjoys my discomfort and the discipline it takes for me to kneel before him without complaint. My eyes are cast down, gazing at his flaccid penis that is resting on his thigh. Even soft, his cock is a monster and I want nothing more than to feel it rocking inside of me.

“You have been a very good girl tonight,” he comments as he casually takes another drink of his gin.

“Thank you Mr. Masen.” My voice shakes as I try to gain control of my trembling body.

He is silent for a moment, as if determining what to do with my body next. I hear the ice clink together in his glass as he drinks the last of his expensive gin before he places the glass on the hard ground next to my knees.

“Stand up and strip,” he commands.

I am on my feet without hesitation. I want this. I’ve never wanted anything so desperately. With shaky fingers I unclasp my bra, gasping at the way the cold air feels against my breasts. My nipples pucker and a delicious shiver runs down my spine. I feel his eyes on me, unapologetically fix on my naked flesh, but I do not look at him. I stare straight ahead as the lace bra drops to the floor at my feet.

Hooking my thumbs in my panties, I slowly draw them down my legs. The cold air dances across my dripping pussy and tickles my clit. Now that I am fully nude, I feel so vulnerable and so incredibly bare. It is very different than being nude in front of strangers. They are nameless faces in a crowd. They are meaningless. But Mr. Masen, his gaze conjures up foreign feelings in my belly that I scarcely know how to deal with.

My pussy is dripping right in front of his eyes and when he licks his lips at the sight of me, I bite my lip to keep myself from crying out. I want to beseech him to touch me, but I remain silent. I feel that for some reason he likes it better than way.

“Turn around,” his velvet voice commands. I step out of my panties and happily oblige him.

As soon as my body faces away from him, his hands are on me. He kneads my ass and kisses the back of my thighs. His breath dances across my labia, so hot against my wet folds. I do not beg him, I bite my lip and patiently wait for his touch.

“You are such a good girl.” I hear pride in his rich voice before I feel his nose near my core, inhaling the scent of my drenched pussy. “I think you deserve your reward now.”

As soon as the sentence leaves his mouth, his lips are on me, lapping up the juices on my labia. I moan softly as he bends me forward and his skilled tongue reaches my clit. He traces circles around its head before giving it small but forceful kisses. Another moan escapes my lips.

“Be silent Isabella,” he commands, “stay quiet like a good girl.”

I suppress a groan, for even his harsh words make me incredibly aroused. Two long fingers enter my throbbing pussy and I do my best to stay still. Mr. Masen is playing my body like an instrument, is fingers are skilled and this is definitely an art that he is perfected with constant practice. My body grows week and the tension in my belly reaches its peak. I feel my orgasm fast approaching and I know already that it will be more powerful than anything I have experienced in my short life.

“Don’t fucking cum,” he says harshly as he stops his ministrations.

I hear myself whine and I still as soon as the sound is omitted from my lips.

“I thought I told you to say silent Isabella,” he says darkly, his voice riddled with a mysterious emotion. He sounds both disappointed and pleased.

I gasp as he pulls me back so harshly that I fall into his lap, my juices staining his expensive suit. With little effort, he bends me over his knee, positioning my ass high in the sky. What the hell is he planning on doing to me?

“You were being such a good girl, you disappoint me Isabella,” he states as his large hand rubs my ass, warming it up. “I think you need to get punished. Perhaps a few hard slaps will teach you Isabella.”

His hot breath caresses my neck and I wiggle my ass in the air in anticipation. I hear him chuckle darkly behind me and the sound sends a shiver down my spine. Presenting my ass to him in this manner makes me feel so exposed, and so incredibly turned on.

“Do you know why I am doing this Isabella?”

I stay silent.

“You may answer me.”

“I made a noise sir.”

“Did I allow that Isabella?”

“No sir.”

“I will spank you four times Isabella and you will count with me. Then I will allow you to cum on my fingers, but only because it will please me. Do you understand Isabella?”

“Yes sir,” I mummer before his large hand comes down firmly on my ass.

The pain feels good, it makes me feel alive.

“One!”

He spanks me on my left cheek and I feel my ass warm underneath his firm hand.

“Two!”

I feel his heavy breathing on my exposed skin and his erection that is pressing against my stomach.

“Three!”

His spanks are harsh and my muscles are already feeling sore. Despite that, I feel my arousal dripping down my legs.

“Four!”

I finish with a scream, proud of myself for not breaking underneath his heavy hand. I can’t see Mr. Masen, but I know that he is smiling.

“That’s my sweet girl, those spankings made you nice and wet,” his voice is warm and relaxed.

As soon as he strokes my pussy, I know that I am close. Mr. Masen begins to play with my clit and my whole body shivers against him.

“Cum on my fingers Isabella,” he darkly commands.

My whole body tenses and my breaths become heavy and uncontrolled. I feel like my body is standing near a precipice and I feel the thrashing waters that threaten me from miles down below. The world is crashing around me and my body shudders as my pussy pulses around his long fingers. My body is numb and I am weak in his arms. Before I have time to think, before I come back down to earth, Mr. Masen takes me in his arms and pets my hair.

He is strange, so wonderfully strange.

“I enjoy watching you my good girl,” he whispers into my ear.

“I enjoy being your good girl,” I admit shyly against his chest.

I’m sated and relaxed in his strong embrace. I’ve never felt so connected with another person. He is a stranger, a man that is so unnerving and different, so much so that I cannot to understand him. But regardless, I feel a pull to him, as if something in the universe was bringing us together. Part of me feels as if I should be thoroughly disgusted by his odd tastes, demeaning words, and poor treatment of me. But I yearn for it; I enjoy being debased as he enjoys debasing me.

He slides me off of his comfortable lap and rises to his feet. He offers me his hand, wanting to lead me away from the room I have now become so fond of.

“Come Isabella, there is much to discuss.”