"Good." Came the brief praise, when he eyes her unbent knees and near-enough horizontal body. Her chest dangled, but the ledge made sure she could hold the rest of her body up; Quentin regarded this as a training setup... A perch to balance on and little to distract her. Eventually she'd do it against a window to the outside world, while balancing a tray full of drinks on her hips, but a little at a time...<br/><br/>She could half see, half sense him moving behind her, though exactly what he was doing was a mystery. All she did know was that after a moment his hand fell to her wettening cunt, and started to massage the lips. "This is a form of control training. Sometimes your moans, yips and squeals are most endearing... Sometimes, they're not. So it's silence that we'll practice. Any noise, however small, will be met by a paddle." He pressed the flat of the paddle against the curve of her rump, pushing it hard enough to indent the flesh but introducing it slowly enough that it didn't hurt... This time. She remembered the aches it left, though. "Furthermore, girl, you will only cum when I instruct you that it's acceptable. You will want to cream your horny self many times, but if I see that tremble just here..." His hand pressed her stomach, mere inches from where the warmth was known to knot up. "before I give the order, punishment. If you don't cum within a few moments of my order, punishment. Understand?"<br/><br/>He didn't really wait to see whether she understood or not; instead he introduced the rock-hard head of a wooden prick to her netherlips. The thing threaded slowly forward, pushing her cunt apart to accommodate it and then some to fill a hole she was gradually growing used to having spread around something or other. He didn't make her life easy, either, rocking the end of the prick side to side to drag her netherlips further open on one side then the next, testing her to ease out a little of her wetness to slip down her thighs.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>