Ulfberth looked over at her, his brows crept up his forehead and he cocked his head with a silent question.
“I… dripped.” She managed. He smirked, and she flushed red at the unintentional double entendre.
“Come here.” He said, and crooked his finger at her. In another situation his imperiousness might have bothered her, but just then she found it intensely arousing.
She obeyed, rising carefully-- so as not to damage the ledger further-- and crossed the room to stand before him.
“Turn around, and bend over.” His voice was steel, and it sent a shiver down her spine. She wanted this. She wanted it, and it scared her a little. She obeyed him.
His hands ghosted over her body, repositioning her slightly. Her palms rested flat on the counter, her legs spread wide, her back curved slightly, causing her rear to jut out obscenely.
She wore a dress, one of sturdy fabric, with a clean apron. The top was cut low, the skirts simple. It had seemed prudent, knowing what she would be doing for the next week, to offer her employer easy access. Now, as he lifted her skirts, flipping them over her back and exposing her bare bottom, she truly began to appreciate the choice she had made.
One large, rough hand smoothed across her bottom. It cricled, traced the curve of her. His hand explored every inch of her from her thighs to the small of her back, touching and smoothing oh-so-gently.
“Do you know what I do to girls who mar my ledger?” He asked her, leaning down close so she could feel the air from his words ruffle the hair near her ear.
“No.” She shivered, her legs trembling. She was wet. So wet. And she wanted him. Badly.
“I spank them.” He said, his teeth catching the curve of her ear in a gentle nip.
A low moan escaped her at the thought. He chuckled, the sound a deep rumble in his chest.
His hand made small circles on her bottom. And then it was gone. She braced for impact, knowing it was coming, but not certain when it would land. She struggled to breathe, fighting the urge to hold her breath in anticipation.
With a loud slap his hand made contact. Something between a shriek and a moan escaped her.
“I did not think I needed to say this, but you must be quiet during your punishment.” His voice was rough, full of need.
With that, he spanked her again. Two blows in quick succession had her biting her lips and squeezing her eyes shut tight in an effort to not moan or squeal. She wanted to. Oh how she wanted to. It was such a delicious agony, waiting for the strike, not knowing when it would land. The sudden sting, and the slowly building heat.
She could feel her arousal dripping down her legs. He spanked her again, and she nearly came undone.
He knelt behind her. His fingers traced along her lower lips, delving between them, and just feathering over her clit. She sobbed out a whimper, nearly begging him for mercy. He ran his fingers over her once more, before lifting them away. She heard him stand, and then felt his fingers, slick with her arousal at her lips. Greedily she sucked them into her mouth, running her tongue along them, getting every last drop.
He stepped back, adjusted her skirts.
“Please,” Brielle moaned, nearly sobbing in frustration.
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timeasmymeasure
Shopkeeper -- Ulfberth/F!DB, Adrianne/F!Db -- 2c/?
Date: 2015-02-03 05:16 am (UTC)“I… dripped.” She managed. He smirked, and she flushed red at the unintentional double entendre.
“Come here.” He said, and crooked his finger at her. In another situation his imperiousness might have bothered her, but just then she found it intensely arousing.
She obeyed, rising carefully-- so as not to damage the ledger further-- and crossed the room to stand before him.
“Turn around, and bend over.” His voice was steel, and it sent a shiver down her spine. She wanted this. She wanted it, and it scared her a little. She obeyed him.
His hands ghosted over her body, repositioning her slightly. Her palms rested flat on the counter, her legs spread wide, her back curved slightly, causing her rear to jut out obscenely.
She wore a dress, one of sturdy fabric, with a clean apron. The top was cut low, the skirts simple. It had seemed prudent, knowing what she would be doing for the next week, to offer her employer easy access. Now, as he lifted her skirts, flipping them over her back and exposing her bare bottom, she truly began to appreciate the choice she had made.
One large, rough hand smoothed across her bottom. It cricled, traced the curve of her. His hand explored every inch of her from her thighs to the small of her back, touching and smoothing oh-so-gently.
“Do you know what I do to girls who mar my ledger?” He asked her, leaning down close so she could feel the air from his words ruffle the hair near her ear.
“No.” She shivered, her legs trembling. She was wet. So wet. And she wanted him. Badly.
“I spank them.” He said, his teeth catching the curve of her ear in a gentle nip.
A low moan escaped her at the thought. He chuckled, the sound a deep rumble in his chest.
His hand made small circles on her bottom. And then it was gone. She braced for impact, knowing it was coming, but not certain when it would land. She struggled to breathe, fighting the urge to hold her breath in anticipation.
With a loud slap his hand made contact. Something between a shriek and a moan escaped her.
“I did not think I needed to say this, but you must be quiet during your punishment.” His voice was rough, full of need.
With that, he spanked her again. Two blows in quick succession had her biting her lips and squeezing her eyes shut tight in an effort to not moan or squeal. She wanted to. Oh how she wanted to. It was such a delicious agony, waiting for the strike, not knowing when it would land. The sudden sting, and the slowly building heat.
She could feel her arousal dripping down her legs. He spanked her again, and she nearly came undone.
He knelt behind her. His fingers traced along her lower lips, delving between them, and just feathering over her clit. She sobbed out a whimper, nearly begging him for mercy. He ran his fingers over her once more, before lifting them away. She heard him stand, and then felt his fingers, slick with her arousal at her lips. Greedily she sucked them into her mouth, running her tongue along them, getting every last drop.
He stepped back, adjusted her skirts.
“Please,” Brielle moaned, nearly sobbing in frustration.
“Bad girls don’t get to come. Get back to work.”