Babala's Correction Read Online Free PDF Page B

much more delicious sensation.
    As they reached the chair, the clear sight of it made Babala’s belly become liquid with excited apprehension. The back of the chair sloped steeply away, and at each corner of the tilted seat were stirrups upon which dangled wide leather straps.
    â€˜To spread your legs nice and wide,’ he explained unnecessarily, and her imagination ran riot over what she would feel once strapped in the chair. She already felt a coolness in her fleshpot as if it was already fully open, and strange draughts of cool air wafted over the heated lips and inner leaves.
    He lifted her into the chair. Babala felt the chill of the leather seat upon her bottom and felt her buttocks spread open. The Taskmaster’s eyes twinkled as if he knew exactly the sensations she was experiencing. An involuntary quiver ran through the whole of her body as he placed one ankle into a stirrup and tightened the broad leather strap, and then her feeling of helplessness increased as the second ankle was placed in position and strapped in place.
    â€˜A pleasing sight, my dear,’ he said, his eyes never leaving her nest. ‘And you please me by leaving your hands so meekly upon your head. The Prince likes his girls to be naturally passive and vulnerable.’ He trailed a finger about the swollen perimeter of each breast, nodding with satisfaction as he noted how well the clips were doing their job. He gave each a little tweak and Babala felt the slight thrill of pain draw down to her cunny, and this seemed to make her pout her mound higher as if in offer. ‘Some girls struggle and I am forced to strap their hands to the back of the chair as well as fix their ankles in the stirrups. Most aggravating.’ He frowned. ‘You will not force me to do that, will you, my dear?’
    Babala shook her head vigorously, making her golden curls tumble about her shoulders.
    â€˜Excellent. I think you are ready for the balm. It is my own recipe of fragrant herbs and spices and exotic unguents. It soothes the path of my cock, you understand, and makes you very amenable.’ He paused, the pot ready in his hands, and smiled at Babala. ‘Not that you aren’t one of the most amenable girls I have had the pleasure to prepare.’
    A shy smile curved Babala’s lips at the compliment, but at the same time she felt a certain apprehension. What would this balm do to her cunny? She dared not lower her hands to hide her fleshpot or the master would think her wickedly disobedient like the other girls for whom he had no time.
    Had she been able to move she would have trembled as the Taskmaster positioned himself between her spread thighs. He inspected her flesh leaves perhaps more minutely than was absolutely necessary, and remarked upon the contrast of the dark folds to the pinkness of her nubbin, erect and hard.
    â€˜Juices slick this delicate pot already,’ he murmured, and Babala felt the quick lap of a tongue across the very point of her nubbin. ‘There is nothing like the taste of a maiden, so fresh and sweet and yet so beckoning.’
    Babala blushed at this and at the intimacy of the tongue kiss.
    â€˜No, no,’ said the Taskmaster, rather crossly. ‘Do not blush. I thought you were different from the other girls; innocent but willing.’ He rewarded her with a finger slap upon her already tender breasts, but his anger quickly dissipated as he sniffed the open pot of balm.
    An exotic perfume filled the room; more heady than those she perceived when she first entered it. It made her head swim and her fleshpot become more open and ready. She felt her sex leaves pout and swell and her nubbin grow, probing eagerly from its little hood. As the cool balm was spread into every crevice she felt her eyes close and her lips part. Her pink tongue-tip circled her lips very slowly in outright invitation, and the Taskmaster was quick to notice this, pressing his mouth against hers. She felt a smooth