Well, I'm doing it...it's my first time participating in Masturbation Monday, Kayla Lords Blog Hop. If you know me, you know I'm kind of red in the face right now, but I'm giving it a go. Aching to Submit opens with a masturbation scene so why not? I mean, it's already written! And it's on sale for the month of November from $4.95 to $2.99! Here is the scene...before I back out!
Sophie drew the curtains of the study windows closed. She returned to her desk and cleared the contents from its surface. Unbuttoning the top buttons of her blouse, she lifted her breasts up out of the cups of her bra. She spread her legs to shoulder width and bent forward, laying her torso across the desk before reaching back to push her panties down to just beneath her hips. She lifted her skirt up over her back to bare her bottom.
She remained like this for a few moments, her arms stretched to either side of the desk, her back arched, imagining how she looked as she prepared to be disciplined.
She glanced once more at the picture of the punished girl on her computer screen, taking in the soft curves of her parted thighs, the stripes of the cane across her buttocks, the glistening pink lips of her bare, exposed sex.
Her nipples pressed against the cool leather top of the desk and her fingers found her swollen, slick nub. She pinched and kneaded, moaning, lifting to stand on the balls of her feet as the muscles of her calves, her thighs, her buttocks tensed. She lay her cheek down on the desk and closed her eyes, giving herself over to her imagination while a stream of sunlight penetrated from between the drawn curtains, warming her face.
Behind her eyes she imagined him, the tall, dark stranger. He had no voice today, although sometimes he chastised her verbally as he punished her physically. She arched her back on his command, lifting herself to him, offering herself to him. She could almost feel the sting of his thick leather belt, hear the sound it would make as it struck soft flesh, know the pain it would deliver.
Moisture soaked her fingers and ran down her thighs as he continued to punish her. She spread her legs wider, wanting more, opening herself to her phantom disciplinarian.
She imagined when he would switch over to the cane, striping her bottom red before telling her to reach back and spread herself open, to prepare to have her bottom hole caned. She would melt her torso deeper into the desk, lifting her hips higher to him. With a slight flick of his wrist, the cane would come down onto that most private, most vulnerable part of her.
Once her punishment was over, he’d have her remain as she was, bent over, her bottom throbbing, exposed, marked.
Her breath came in gasps and her fingers worked faster as she neared orgasm until finally she came, her hips bucking, pelvic bones scratching against the rough edges of the desk, the only softness that of her cotton panties as they slid to the floor.