I shake my head even as a frisson travels the length of my body and pools between my legs. Holy hell. Am I wet at the prospect of being punished? No. It’s not about the punishment itself. It’s about the fact that Kirill will be the one conducting it. He wraps the end of the belt around his strong hand, and I feel myself on the verge of hyperventilating. Gone are my attempts to act or remain strong. Isn’t it unfair that Kirill is the only one who has this inexplicable effect on me? He's about to punish me, and my body chooses this exact moment to become sexually frustrated.
