"M-more..."

The sound of her voice sent her crashing back to the real world. She gasped in shock as she realized what she'd just asked for. What was she thinking? She braced herself, but the next spank was no worse than the last. Nor was the one after that. Had he not even heard her? And why was she not relieved he hadn't? The vision was gone, as if it had shied away from her voice, and she couldn't bring herself to ask again. And yet, the desire persisted. When his hand came down for the next slap, she thrust her ass backwards at him.

"Aiii!" She howled. Yes!

He spanked her again and again, and she met him with her ass at every interval. The tears flowed more freely down her cheeks, but they were no longer because of the pain. The candle hadn't returned, but in its place, the spanking had awakened a bonfire, one which only grew with each successive blow, threatening to consume her whole.

And then there was nothing. For several heartbeats, she waited, but everything was quiet, save for her own rapid breaths. She craned her neck and found Lucas looking at her with a strange look in his eyes. It seemed as if he were studying her, trying to determine something. For a long moment, they stared at each other, and then he nodded, more to himself than to her, she thought.

"Turn around," he told her, his expression stern once more.

He had beaten all question of disobedience out of her, and she did as he ordered.

"Hands behind your back. Spread your legs. Farther. Farther! Good."

She felt **** and helpless in that position, unable to defend herself. It reminded her of her position in the kitchen. Would he slap her breasts again? Her nipples were still tender from before, she wasn't sure if she could take another spanking so soon.

What she got instead surprised her. His hand cupped between her legs, rubbing her gently. She let out a sigh as his fingers caressed her clit and labia through her panties. Her fears forgotten for the moment, she pushed back against his hand.

"Ah... ah..." She panted.

He kept fondling her, but she wanted more. Her hips gyrated of their own accord, and she could feel herself getting wetter and wetter. Any moment now she expected him to reach inside her panties and slide his fingers into her needy slit, but he just kept teasing her.

Just when she couldn't take it any more, he gripped the waistband of her panties and gave them a savage tug. The garment gave way immediately, tearing at the seam, rendering her naked before him. Not fully naked—she still had her stockings on, but that seemed to only emphasize her nakedness.

He lifted her panties to her face. "Do you see this, bitch?"

She was unable to tear her eyes from the positively soaking patch in the gusset. She didn't think she'd ever been this wet in her life. What was wrong with her? He had hurt her, badly. The burning sensation in her behind still hadn't passed, though pressing it against the cool stone helped, and she was afraid to look at her nipples, sure they'd stretched grotesquely—permanently, she feared—and yet her body was determined to interpret it all as the most exquisite pleasure.

"Y-yes," she whispered, the truth undeniable.