After only a moment's pause, Hermione rose up on her knees, and he turned the paddle on its side, sliding it against her slit so the beveled edge split her lips.
Her respiration accelerated to a frantic pant, and she watched his positioning with rapt attention.
"Now," he said darkly, "give your new friend a good buffing, and I think you'll be wet in no time."
Her face turned the most lovely shade of maroon to match her shirt.
What an intriguing girl.
How many times had she humped his hand or his leg with no hesitation? Yet asking her to ride an inanimate object had her blushing like a virgin.
Legilimency would be unnecessary in this instance; any imbecile could read that expression.
She was aroused and humiliated.
Lucifer nodded at her chest. "Keep that shirt up. I like the way your tits bounce when you get going."
If her face burned any brighter it was going to incinerate her eyebrows.
As she cautiously worked out the mechanics of paddle frottage, Lucifer encouraged her with some choice phrases.
"Spread your legs wide. Ride it hard—I want to be able to see every inch of your sweet little cunt through those panties when you're finished."
Her eyelids drooped, her mouth falling open in a wanton gasp of submission.
'Oh, yes, love. I know. You're already drenched, aren't you?'
Lucifer pinched her left nipple and held on as she undulated like a snake on a wave. "That's it. Fuck that wood like it's my cock. Show me what a dirty little girl you are."
Hermione circled her hips, grinding against the grain until she was rolling in a haze of sexual oblivion, her eyes fluttering back so hard he lost sight of the brown.
Lucifer watched her for several minutes, occasionally prodding a pink nipple to help her along.
She was almost there, her serpentine dance gradually becoming quick and sharp.
He should stop her before she came.
A paddling would hurt too much if she wasn't high on her own desperation.
"Are your knickers wet now?" he murmured.
She blinked open her eyes as if she'd forgotten where she was. "I think so, sir."
"If they're not, you're going to get a dozen hits. Should I check now or wait?"
"Uh . . . give me a second." Furrowing her brow in concentration, Hermione began to furiously polish the wood with her clit, the edge of the paddle splitting her cleft until it looked as if it was slicing her in two.
"That's enough," he growled.
She was clearly striding for the finish line to ensure her success, and that was absolutely out of the question.
"Lift up."
Thighs quivering, she rose once more, and he drew the board from between her legs.
Running his palm along the periphery, he checked for dampness. It did seem a bit moist.
He glanced at her crotch and saw the cotton plastered to her folds, still dented into her crevice.
Smirking, Lucifer caressed the gouge with the tip of his index finger.
"You're quite the overachiever, aren't you?" he observed dryly.
"These are more than satisfactory. I think you'd better bend over and get that backside in the air. I'll take off your wet knickers."
Hermione quickly spun around on her knees and pressed her chest to the bed, waggling her hips in a nervous shimmy.
She looked outstanding waving her rump around like that, and he had half a mind to tease her to climax.
He wouldn't even have to remove her panties; she'd squirt herself silly and leave a wet spot on the quilt to commemorate a night together.
But that would ruin all his plans.
He'd been working on her present for days and imagining exactly how the evening would play out.
Best to save the panty drenching for another night.
Lucifer brought his damp fingers to his nose and took a deep breath.
Fucking hell! How did she smell so bloody sweet? He'd have to tie her legs open later and get a mouthful of that juicy peach while it was ripe.
"Are you excited about your new paddle?" he asked with knowing lilt.
Her reply was muffled by the bed. "I'm scared, sir."
"I'm only going to give you six."
"That sounds like a lot."
"Don't I always make you love it?"
"Yes, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."
Lucifer hooked his thumbs into the sides of her knickers and teased them down her hips. "Pain is a tricky animal in sexual situations."
"Tell me about it," she muttered.
Snickering to himself, Lucifer arranged her underwear just below her bum, essentially underlining his target. "Do you have something you need to say to me, young lady?"
She knew what he wanted to hear.
Hermione squirmed, pussy shine peeking from between her lips with every wiggle. "I need a spanking, sir."
"Because?"
"I want to be your good girl."
"Your poor little pussy is sodden. Is there something else you need?"
"Yes, sir. Please make me come." She arched her back to show him how dire the situation was.
Lucifer feathered his fingers over the contours of her backside in acknowledgment of her lubricious plight.
"I'll give you six with the paddle, and if you take them well, I'll finger your naughty little bottom until you come. Would you like that?"
"Yes, sir!" Her smile shone through her words.
"All right. I want you on your back. Leave those knickers right where they are. I'll take them off for you."
Awkwardly, Hermione rolled over, looking extremely perplexed about how the paddle would be applied in that position.
Had he never spanked her like this before? He'd taken a liking to putting her over his knee, her body warm against his.
But he'd have to rethink that in the future; being able to watch her face was quite a turn-on.
Lucifer pushed her shirt back above her breasts and knelt at her side. "Legs to your chest."
Hermione lifted her feet, drawing her thighs to her belly . . . and displaying her glistening cunny at the most advantageous angle.
Taking his sweet time, Lucifer rolled her twisted knickers over her thighs, leaving her exposed slit bare and vulnerable.
He tugged off her underwear and brought them to his nose.
His head spun, suddenly floating through a musky haze of meaty nectar.
Am I seriously getting high off her pussy?
He sniffed again and drifted into wonderland. He'd have to check if there is an opium den being hidden inside.
"You certainly smell like a good girl," he murmured.
Hermione smiled and averted her gaze to disguise her mild embarrassment.
He couldn't have that.
"Look at me."
When she met his eyes again, he flashed her a reassuring half-smile then leaned over to arrange her knickers across her face so she looked like a masked bandit—a dastardly villain with a flair for pink hearts.
"Leave those there. I want you to remember how much you want this."
Her chest rapidly rose and fell as her panting became obscene.
Lucifer picked up the paddle in one hand and pushed back her legs with the other.
"Hold on to those. I don't want you reaching back. I know that's always the rule, but it's imperative when I'm using the paddle; one of your fingers could get seriously injured. Good girls hold their legs for their punishments, and thank the spanker for the discipline. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir," Hermione whispered into her knickers.
"Very good."
Lucifer swiped the smooth surface lightly over her lower buttocks.
He didn't want to bruise her.
"Ready?"
She nodded and breathed out a shaky, "Y-yes, sir," before scrunching up her face in anticipation of the first hit.
xxxxxx
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