“Good girl,” he growls into my lips as I grasp his hair. Good girl. What he’s doing to me now is a stark contrast to the sharp whip of his belt; a reward, rather than a punishment. But if this is what good girls get, then maybe I won’t be bad anymore. A hard, angry slap against my pussy dissolves that thought immediately. Holy crow. The sting fizzes in my blood like shaken-up champagne. Maybe I can be both.
