William exhales against my aching flesh. “No.”
My eyes blink. “What?”
“No.” He climbs to his feet and flips my skirt down. “A punishment is only a punishment if you don’t enjoy it. Go get your panties on, Lisa. Don’t make me ask you again.”
Standing there in a trance, I clumsily make my way upstairs to comply. My whole body is aching like a nerve after being pinched, and the anguish of being denied pleasure is worse than the stinging in my crotch. When I put on the pants, it just becomes worse. It hurts so much to have this cloth up against my sore pussy and ass.
As I devour my cold pancakes and tepid coffee, William observes me with a menacing gaze from the kitchen. As soon as he is happy, he takes me to the mud room and wraps one of his jackets over me. It's too big, and I look foolish in my short skirt that ends just at the edge of my coat. A faint, "I'm going to freeze," escapes my lips.