Quentin grinned as her thighs -flowed-, her excitement washing down them to stain his very fine carpet. The sight excited him, dragging his body into a state of arousal that he had to promise himself would be addressed soon. The way she had to strain to stay in position, and bite to keep herself silenced... It was that knowledge of his complete control that sent pleasure surging through him more than the sight of her quivering and shaking snatch ever could. She was his, completely, and the knowledge appealed to him far more than anything else she could offer, whether it was seeing her suffer, seeing her break, or feeling her against him. Those were just the trimmings, so to speak. The extras that followed now that her mind was slowly sinking into a perverse haze, centered around lust, pleasure, and the -need- to please her new master. Or so Quentin perceived it, though at the end of the day that was all that concerned her; he cared little whether she was enjoying it or not, so long as she kept up the act.<br/><br/>Though his orders remained and she tried to keep herself straight, her stance had drooped a little after the last of her orgasm rocked through her. It was his paddle that would right it. He slapped her knee to straighten it, knocking it back into position but relying on her to keep it there. Her back followed, a sharp slap that - apart from stinging greatly - curved her spine into that somewhat unnatural but undeniably appealing shape he so adored. It then settled back against her rump, to remind her that his so-called-game was still very much on.<br/><br/>"Good, but don't slump just because I let you cum your pathetic brains out. Come on, again. This time after you spray your mess on the floor you will correct your posture, thank me neatly, and return to being a mute little bitch so that we can do it all over again." Her cunt was twice as sensitive as before, so it felt all the more pressing when his wooden prick slid into her once again. The wetness made it easy, and fast, but her raw nerves also meant sure that the sudden intrusion sent a sudden jolt of pleasure so keen that it was almost painful, or at least stunning.<br/><br/>As it turned out, Zoey's morning had barely begun. The cycle repeated twice more, each time being more insistent; he would push her harder, further, and make the most of her increasingly sensitive pussy to ensure every time she had a harder time holding down. The only noise that didn't earn her a sharp, heavy spank from the paddle was when she thanked her each time he let her release herself; indeed that one earned it when she omitted it, or when it came too slow, or not sincere enough. He was fair, though... For Quentins particularly strict, exacting definition of fair. There were no unwarranted slaps, despite the mans growing desire and the occasional flash of a fancy to see her tremble with tears in her eye from the lash of a whip.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>