Saint’s hand moves faster, shuttling quick and urgent on his p***s. He never can take his time, which is one of the reasons I think he responds so well to being dominated. He loves to be forced to go slowly, because it’s the only way he can manage it.
“Use your left hand,” I tell him as I deliver another hard strike to Proserpina’s backside. “Put your right hand on the bed and use your left.”
He gives a furious curse, but does as I ask, because he knows it will be better this way. He knows his clumsy grip will keep him miserable and frustrated, and that is exactly what my little martyr boy wants in bed, and he looks like he both hates and loves me for knowing that.
For my part, I only smile wickedly at him before giving Proserpina a flurry of spanks that have her moaning. I start m
