"Stop." He tugs them from my mouth. Moving toward the bed, he throws the duvet aside and sits down on the edge.

"Come here."

I stand in front of him.

"Now turn round, bend down, and grasp your ankles."

I blink at him, and his expression darkens.

"Don't hesitate," he admonishes me softly, an undercurrent in his voice, and he pops the b.a.l.l.s in his mouth.

f.u.c.k, this is s.e.xier than the toothbrush. I follow his orders immediately. Jeez, can I touch my anklesI find I can, with ease. The t-shirt slides up my back, exposing my behind. Thank heavens I have retained my panties, but I suspect I won't for long.

He places his hand reverently on my backside and very softly caresses it with his whole hand. With my eyes open, I can see his legs through mine, nothing else. I close my eyes tightly as he gently moves my panties to the side and slowly runs his finger up and down my s.e.x. My body braces itself in a heady mix of wild antic.i.p.ation and arousal. He slides one finger inside me, and he circles it deliciously slowly. Oh, it feels good. I moan.

His breathing halts, and I hear him gasp as he repeats the motion. He withdraws his finger and very slowly inserts the objects, one slow, delicious ball at a time. Oh my.

They're body temperature, warmed by our collective mouths. It's a curious feeling. Once they're inside me, I can't really feel them - but then again I know they're there.

He straightens my panties and leans forward, and his lips softly kiss my behind.

"Stand up," he orders, and shakily I get to my feet.

Oh! Now I can feel them... sort of. He grasps my hips to steady me while I re-establish my equilibrium.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice stern.

"Yes." My answer is feather soft.

"Turn round." I turn and face him.

The b.a.l.l.s pull downward and involuntarily I clench around them. The feeling startles me but not in a bad way.

"How does that feel?" he asks.

"Strange."

"Strange good or strange bad?"

"Strange good," I confess, blushing.

"Good." There's a trace of humor lurking in his eyes.

"I want a gla.s.s of water. Go and fetch one for me please."

Oh.

"And when you come back, I shall put you across my knee. Think about that, Anastasia."

WaterHe wants water - now - why?

As I leave the bedroom, it becomes abundantly clear why he wants me to walk around

- as I do, the b.a.l.l.s weigh down inside me, ma.s.saging me internally. It's such a weird feeling and not entirely unpleasant. In fact, my breathing accelerates as I stretch up for a gla.s.s from the kitchen cabinet, and I gasp. Oh my... I may have to keep these. They make me needy, needy for s.e.x.

He's watching me carefully when I return.

"Thank you," he says as he takes the gla.s.s from me.

Slowly, he takes a sip then places the gla.s.s on his bedside table. There's a foil packet, ready and waiting, like me. And I know he's doing this to build the antic.i.p.ation. My heart has picked up a beat. He turns his bright gray gaze to mine.

"Come. Stand beside me. Like last time."

I sidle up to him, my blood thrumming through my body, and this time... I'm excited.

Aroused.

"Ask me," he says softly.

I frown. Ask him what?

"Ask me," his voice is slightly harder.

WhatHow was your waterWhat does he want?

"Ask me, Anastasia. I won't say it again." And there's such a threat implicit in his words, and it dawns on me. He wants me to ask him to spank me.

Holy s.h.i.t. He's looking at me expectantly, his eyes growing colder. s.h.i.t.

"Spank me, please... Sir," I whisper.

He closes his eyes momentarily, savoring my words. Reaching up, he grasps my left hand and he tugs me over his knees. I fall instantly, and he steadies me as I land in his lap.

My heart is in my mouth as his hand gently strokes my behind. I'm angled across his lap again so that my torso rests on the bed beside him. This time he doesn't throw his leg over mine, but smoothes my hair out of my face and tucks it behind my ear. Once he's done, he clasps my hair at the nape to hold me in place. He tugs gently and my head shifts back.

"I want to see your face while I spank you, Anastasia," he murmurs, all the while softly rubbing my backside.

His hand moves down between the cheeks of my behind, and he pushes against my s.e.x, and the full feeling is... I moan. Oh, the sensation is exquisite.

"This is for pleasure, Anastasia, mine and yours," he whispers softly.

He lifts his hand and brings it down in a resounding slap against the junction of my thighs, my behind, and my s.e.x. The b.a.l.l.s are forced forward inside me, and I'm lost in a quagmire of sensation. The stinging across my behind, the fullness of the b.a.l.l.s inside me, and the fact that he's holding me down. I screw my face up as my faculties attempt to absorb all these foreign feelings. I note somewhere in my brain that he's not smacked me as hard as last time. He caresses my backside again, trailing his palm across my skin and over my underwear.

Why's he not removed my panties Then his palm disappears, and he brings it down again. I groan as the sensation spreads. He starts a pattern: left to right and then down.

The down ones are the best. Everything moving forward, inside me... and in between each smack he caresses me, kneads me - so I am ma.s.saged inside and out. It's such a stimulating, erotic feeling, and for some reason, because this is on my terms, I don't mind the pain.

It's not painful as such - well it is, but not unbearable. It's somehow manageable, and yes pleasurable... even. I groan. Yes, I can do this.

He pauses as he slowly peels my panties down my legs. I writhe on his legs, not because I want to escape the blows, but I want... more, release, something. His touch against my sensitized skin is all sensuous tingle. It's overwhelming, and he starts again. A few soft slaps then building up, left to right and down. Oh, the downs, I groan.