Your touch gentle and firm, you pushed my knees apart, spreading my legs wide and adjusting your hold so you could press down and keep me still, all while using your lips, teeth, and tongue to torment me. My hips wanted to wriggle closer to you, to help your mouth find its way to my clit, but your arms kept me in position, secure and restrained.

After what felt like an interminable amount of time, your tongue licked the length of my wetness, lingering over my clit. A tremor of longing ran through me, made all the more palpable by my inability to buck my hips against your mouth. I simply had to lie still and wait for you to give me what I wanted so desperately… More of you. Surrendering to you. Coming, for you.

It didn’t take long to find the perfect girl on the escort directory.

After the delicious, extensive provocations of the night before, I felt like a pent-up rocket ready to launch into orbit. With the expert touch of your tongue tasting and teasing… I climaxed in mere moments.

I lay there panting, catching my breath, and heard you chuckle as you slid up to lie next to me.

“Someone sure is eager this morning,” you chided.

“Of course I am. You’ve been making me wait since last night.” I’d meant to be coy, but the raise of your eyebrow told me a little too much petulance had slipped through.

“Is that a problem?” Your voice conveyed more of a statement than a question.

“No, not at all,” I promised. I kept my eyes wide, doing my best to look as contrite as I felt.

“That’s the right answer,” you replied. Sitting up, you took notice of the soaking wetness between my legs. I could feel it dripping down my thighs… onto the sheets… My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as I realized what a substantial wet spot I was leaving on the bed. You preferred to keep all things tidy, and I suspected I would have some cleaning up to do.

“You’ve made quite a mess, naughty girl.” Your voice was playful, but not without some genuine scolding.

“I know, I’m sorry…” I lowered my lashes, waiting for your instruction.

Instead of giving it to me right away, you took your time, looking me over with candid scrutiny.

“Normally I would want you to shower right away, but I think I have a better idea for today…”

I squirmed a little, propping myself up on my elbows to hear your decision.

“Since it’s Saturday,” you continued, “and you’re such a dirty girl, I want you to do all of your chores before you shower. Go clean up between your legs, then come back so we can get you ready.”

I wasn’t sure what “get you ready” meant, but I knew I was in no position to question you.

“Yes, boss,” I answered, as I scooted out of bed and into the bathroom to do as I was told.

When I returned, you sat on the edge of the bed holding some scraps of lace fabric and a red, washable marker.

“Put these on,” you instructed, handing me what turned out to be my black and white lingerie set – bits of sheer white lace held together by thin black elastic straps. The panties were “cheeky” and left plenty of my ass on display, and the bra managed to be flimsy while also propping my tits up nice and high, the way you liked them best.

As soon as I was “dressed” you pulled me close to you, uncapping the marker. In bold block letters, you wrote the words MY DIRTY GIRL across my torso, then you turned me around to write across my lower back. I couldn’t make out the letters, but they were followed by an unmistakable arrow pointing right down into the super sensitive spot at the top of my bum.

With an audible smirk and a smack on my ass, you told me to get to work.

Twisting around to look over my shoulder wasn’t a clear enough view, so I padded into the bathroom to look in the vanity mirror.

SPANK ME was written in those same bold letters, with the telltale arrow emphasizing the direction. I felt myself flush with a combination of bashfulness and lust. This surely meant I was in for some spankings, though I had no way of knowing when or how many… the thought instantly made me want to come again.

Turning me to face the mirror, you positioned yourself behind me and pulled down the white lace of my bra, starting in on my hyper-sensitive nipples. I moaned and wriggled against you as you spoke softly in my ear.

“You want to come again already, don’t you?” Sometimes you were infuriatingly good at reading my mind.

“Ohhh… god… y-yes… I d-do…” I confessed.

“Of course you do. My naughty, dirty girl… That’s what you are, isn’t it?”

I nodded, biting my lip, relishing in your continued assault on my nipple. “Y-yes… oh, god… yes…”

“Say it,” you commanded, and my knees went weak.

“I-I’m… oh god…” No matter how much I enjoyed it – and honestly believed it – it always made me so bashful to say smutty things out loud. And you knew it.

“Say it, or I won’t touch your nipples for a week.” The whimper your words elicited from me made you smile.

“I… I’m your n-naughty, dirty girl,” I stammered. Facing the mirror and seeing those words written on my body sent an extra thrill through me… I felt scandalous and cherished and just a little berated, all at once. I found myself wishing you’d written it in permanent marker.

“Mmm… that’s right you are,” you murmured, and with a light nip at my neck, you pulled the lace back up over my breasts, relinquishing your exquisite torment.

Every time you stopped playing with my nipples, I felt a huffy whine threaten to escape my throat. I never wanted you to stop. But I bit back my whimper, trying to only pout inwardly so I wouldn’t get myself in trouble.

“Here you go, naughty girl,” you said, handing me a small square of paper. “Since you’re extra dirty today, I added a few more chores to your list. I expect you won’t disappoint me.”

And with that you tugged my panties up between my ass cheeks, giving them two sharp smacks.

“N-no, boss,” I agreed. “I won’t let you down.”

As you left the room, you turned to me with a smirk. “You better not.”