A little story

Well, as an acknowledgment I haven't written in forever, but here's a small piece I wrote recently, enjoy.

The little bell gave a single jingle. Several seconds after the reverberations had finally left it’s small frame it gave out another. Then the hand that dwarfed the small thing set it down with nary a sound more and returned to it’s given limb’s namesake rest. He waited. She wouldn’t make him for too long, she dared not. But still he waited. He could afford to for all the world, but he wouldn’t let her have that luxury. No, to dash was her duty and her purpose if it so pleased him.

Small feet came pattering and a small corner of his lips upturned. He always bore a grin, and that set her off so very often. He liked that. So she came to a stop in front of him, small mouth parted with bated breaths, and posture straight for any attention. She fidgeted a little as she stood. She could wait now as he did, so he ignored her, letting her wait without an inkling of acknowledgement. He had started a new page in his book during his wait, and it would be finished before something new was begun.

He took his time, but when he looked up he unleashed the full devilish smile he had upon her. Nipples tightened and breath quickened as an immediate response, but she otherwise froze. His hands pushed down and so he rose from his seat, towering above the prey he started to circle. He didn’t reach out, but instead let his fingers barely brush against certain spots of bare skin. It wasn’t a touch so much as the barest contact to make her aware of each even more.

But after several circles and judging her satisfactorily, he stopped behind her, one hand reaching under and cupping between legs, feeling the barest moistness. As the hand cupped, the lips brushed one ear and let out the whisper, “Mine.” That was all it said and sufficient enough to bring a little gasp from those silent lips.

It did indeed please him, but he was feeling petty, so the hand let go of its’ prize and instead came ringing across both ass-cheeks with a sound thud. Now that brought a cry that he’d allow.

With that he started to circle again, his right hand coming down against her bare skin both soft and hard. Again and again it happened until she was panting, a small glistening between her legs giving sharp contrast to the reddish hue of much of her skin.

Now he chose to grab the iron collar about her neck, wrenching her down and letting her rest her arms against the seat of his chair. His hand did momentarily too, until it pulled upwards with a paddle between his hands. What goes up must come down, and with the full force of his swing so did the paddle against her rear.