Sinful desires{steamiest short stories}

With a gentle grin, he folded one of our dishtowels and slipped it under my hips for padding. He took a pair of oven mitts and slid them under my cheek. Simon loves to spank me, but he takes care of me, as well. I was as comfortable as any sub can be waiting for a punishment session.

“I’ll get the next batch,” Simon assured me, pulling the roll of plastic wrap from the box and cutting off a long sheet.

This he wrapped around my throbbing buttocks, having me lift up off the counter to assist him. Tightly bound, I felt my cheeks pulsate, and my pussy begin to fill. I couldn’t remember being this excited before.Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

The bell rang.

“Hold that thought,” Simon said, expertly lifting each cookie from the tray and scooping out the last batch. He flipped on the timer again and turned to deal with me, pulling something from our kitchen junk drawer that I couldn’t see. Then, softly, he said, “Grit your teeth, Dana, this is going to hurt.”

I did what he said. Simon never lies to me.

The sting of the unknown implement startled me. I’d been expecting the paddled feeling of the cutting board, or the smarting smack of the wooden spoon. Instead, it felt as if he’d used a crop on me. I tried to turn my head, but he placed one hand on the back of my neck and pushed me down.

Next, the sting came on the backs of my thighs, a few smarting strokes in a row. I squirmed on the counter, writhing, begging through the cloth gag to know what it was he was using.

“What is it? Simon, please.” Somehow, I thought that seeing it would comfort me.

“A wooden chopstick,” he said, dropping the item and picking up a new one, a thicker one. This I immediately sensed was the handle of a spoon, but I didn’t have long to contemplate it.

The weapon hurt in the same way a cane would, a quick pain followed by a lasting throb each time it landed on my wrapped asscheeks. I howled through the cheesecloth gag.

While I was moaning, Simon reached for the rubber gloves and slipped one on. I’ve always been an aficionado of rubber and vinyl. Being punished with a rubber-gloved hand had me screaming, my cries echoing in our kitchen.

The pain was wicked, and the sound of the rubber meeting my plastic-wrapped skin almost made me come.

But I wanted something more. I wanted to feel those rubber gloves against my naked skin.

“Please,” I begged Simon, pulling the cheesecloth gag from my lips so I could speak. “Cut it off me. Let me feel it.”

He quickly cut through the plastic wrap with our kitchen scissors, freeing my ass for a new kind of spanking. My cheeks were already throbbing, but I still managed to raise my hips off the counter to meet each blow.

The rubber felt indecent against me, even more so when Simon let his rubber-covered thumb slip between my asscheeks to brush my pussy.

“Oh, god,” I moaned.

“You like that?” His thumb made a quick rotation around my clit, and then he pushed inside of me. My pussy clenched on his rubbery digit, and I groaned as he slipped out his thumb and slid three fingers into me instead.

My eyes were wide open at this brand-new sensation. Rubbery fingers fucking me, thrusting into my dripping wet pussy.

But Simon wasn’t ready to reward me just yet. Once he brought me right to the brink of climax, he resumed the spanking, now using a rubber-gloved hand that was wet from my own juices.

Simon gave me quite a few smacks before the bell rang for the last time. He ignored it, rolling me over instead, pressing his lips to my pussy lips, which were still covered by the plastic, licking against the plastic wrap coating my cunt.

I sighed and arched my hips up, not able to decide which felt better: the cool Corian under my butt or Simon’s warm lips on my delta of Venus. Then he unwrapped me, peeling the plastic away from my warm, wet skin. No more debating; his lips felt magical around my pulsing clit.

“The cookies…” I whispered, but Simon was deaf to this chef’s pleas. He kept working me, playing me, until I came….

At least we had two batches that didn’t burn.