“Perhaps I won’t have the chef teach you. Maybe I’ll teach you that myself,” he added next, his gaze darkening dangerously. He didn’t say anything further and I was left to imagine what would happen.
I swallowed. There were two kitchens in the house. The main kitchen was well stocked with food and drink, but the chef cooked in the much bigger commercial kitchen in one of the other wings of the house.
“Cooking in the kitchens would mean that the wooden spoons you keep warning me about would be that much closer,” I whispered hoarsely. By the time I’d realized I’d said the words out loud, I gasped and slapped my hand over my mouth.
“You’re right, little girl,” he grinned. “Maybe you’d remember to behave or maybe you wouldn’t, but I think we both know how I would handle your naughtiness, don’t we?”
“Yes,” I blushed.
“Are you finished eating?” he asked pointedly.
“Yes. I’m done. It was quite yummy,” I smiled.
“Good. Now that we’re both done, you will clear off the plates. Do you remember what I told you to do after that?” he questioned purposely and there was a very clear seductive sheen to his eyes. My core squeezed tight in anticipation.
“I do remember,” I murmured, my mouth growing dry at the insinuation. He stood and I could see a very obvious outline of his cock through his slacks. He was hard again, and my pussy clenched in anticipation. I watched as he rolled over an empty cart and sat back down. What was he going to do? What did I want him to do?
Slowly, I started to clear off the dirty plates. I covered the leftovers with their lids and carefully put them back onto the cart. He kept his eyes on me the whole time. I could feel him studying my legs and my breasts and my bottom when I bent over right in front of him to reach something on the far side of the table. I arched my back a little, trying to goad him into touching me, but he didn’t. Not yet at least.
By the time I was done, my desire had reached new heights. I took a deep breath and met his eyes, knowing what he expected me to do.
He’d given me the option to bend over the table this morning for a fucking and I’d been too much of a chicken to do it, so I’d told him off and he left. I’d had the rest of the day to regret that decision though and now more than anything, I wanted that fucking.
I wanted him. Desperately.
I could go back up to my room and touch myself and I knew I could make myself come that way. I would fantasize about that spanking he would give me before bed and I knew it would be a good orgasm, but I wanted his fingers and his cock inside me more than anything.
It needed to be him, not me.
I stood at the end of the table for a few moments before I was brave enough to do what I should have done this morning. I took a deep breath and bent over it.
The dress that he’d chosen for me was so short. It had ridden up slightly, and I could feel the bottom curves of my cheeks just peeking out from beneath it. I lifted my gaze to his as he smiled, dark excitement crossing his features as he stood up.
“Good girl,” he said as he dragged his fingers along my arm, then down my back and finally across my buttocks. “This dress becomes you. It pleases me to see you wear it.”
I shivered with contentment at the sound of his pleasure.
He maneuvered behind me, and I turned my head so that my cheek lay on the table. His fingers continued to graze my lower back, sliding back and forth teasingly and I couldn’t help it as I rose on my toes seeking more. My clit was throbbing so hard that it felt like it had its own heartbeat.
He slid his fingers beneath my dress and slowly lifted it up to my mid back, revealing my bottom fully to his gaze. His fingertips glided along the edges of my panties. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw him kneel behind me, getting an even closer look at my backside in the lingerie he’d given me. I squirmed a little in embarrassment as his fingers grasped the fabric that still hid my most private of places from his view.
His other hand glanced against my cloth-covered pussy. It was as if he was telling me that he was going to see everything in just a few moments and my nipples pebbled into hard little points against the table.
I whimpered nervously.
His fingers grasped the lacey fabric and he pulled them down leisurely, revealing my bare bottom and soaking wet pussy inch by terribly slow inch. I gasped, arching into the table, and pressing my thighs together as if I could hide what he was seeing even though I knew it would hide nothing. He squeezed my left bottom cheek and his fingers reached just inside enough to glance against the outer folds of my pussy.
“Now, if you’d been a good girl and bent over the table this morning, your bottom would still be red enough for a fucking. You’re not even a little bit pink anymore, Cami,” he chided, and I squirmed, sliding my thighs against one another anxiously.
“You’ve been a very naughty girl, haven’t you?” he pressed, and I knew what he wanted to hear. I also knew what I wanted to say.
I was quiet as he pulled my panties down my legs. He guided each of my feet out of them and placed them in front of me on the table so that I could see them. His gaze was dark as he arranged them so that the seat was on display, which also meant that I could see just how wet I’d made them. I closed my eyes, knowing that he could see it too.
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Naughty girls only get fucked with bright red bottoms. What does that mean for you, little girl?”
I covered my face with my hands for a moment. “I’m about to get a spanking?” I asked, my voice trembling with arousal.