Teaching Her Bratty Client A Lesson

Reya stood over her table with her jaw tight. Her client, Emma, had been a damn problem since minute one—smirking, scoffing, barking about the temperature and the oil like she owned the place. Teen, pretty, and rotten. Reya kept quiet, hands steady, sliding slick palms over lean calves, then thighs, each dig of her thumbs getting firmer. The girl grunted complaints through closed lips, fingers drumming the table. When Reya reached the towel line, Emma lifted it herself, legs spreading like it was routine. “I expect a happy ending,” she said, flat, bored, eyes already drifting shut. Reya’s hands froze. A slow, dangerous heat climbed up her neck. She peeled the towel away completely, revealing Emma bare and sprawled under soft lamplight. Fingers pressed deeper now—no warning, sliding straight between wet folds. Emma gasped, mouth parting on a smart remark that never left her throat. “Want that ending, brat?” Reya’s voice dropped low, edged. “Fine. You’ll earn it on my terms.” One hand kept pumping, knuckles grazing that slick, throbbing clit, while the other clutched the girl’s ankle, pinning it open. She shoved two fingers in hard, twisting, grinding against the tight, fluttering walls. Emma’s back arched instantly. Her earlier snarl cracked into a whine. Reya leaned close, breath hot on her ear. “You speak when I ask, move when I allow it, and you come exactly when I say—understand?” Another rough curl of those fingers, thumb relentless on the swollen nub. “Answer me, princess, or I stop right now.”