by Loki Renard
He opened the back door. “Get in,” he said tersely. “I’m taking you home.”
The journey home was short, but tense. Annika couldn’t keep the dark smirk off her face.
“You won’t be smiling for long, young lady,” Steven warned her as he drove.
She didn’t bother to tell him that she wasn’t smiling because she was happy. She was smiling because there wasn’t much else for her face to do with all the emotion and adrenaline rushing through her body.
The moment they got back to the church house, Steven sent her to her room. For a moment, Annika considered pointing out that she was far too old to be sent to her room, and that it wasn’t her room to be sent to. Instead, she turned on him the moment she was through the door, glaring up at him, her hands on her hips, her eyes blazing with fire. “This is your fault,” she declared.
“My fault?” Steven crossed his arms over his chest. “Do explain.”
“I told you I was a bad person.”
“That’s why you stole something? To prove to me you’re not worth helping?” He reached down with both hands, took her by the shoulders, and looked deep into her eyes. “Annika, you don’t need to test me.”
“It’s not a test. It’s the truth. I am a bad person.”
“You stole a scarf. You didn’t commit treason. It doesn’t make you a bad person. It just makes you a misguided, scared girl who needs to know someone will step in when she goes too far.” He let go of her shoulders and sat down on the bed, patting his lap. “Come on, Annika,” he said. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Nyet,” she refused boldly. If he wanted to punish her, he was going to have to work for it. She wasn’t going to just lie across his lap.
“You’re making this more difficult for yourself.”
“I’m making it more difficult for you.”
“Not particularly,” he said calmly. “It makes no difference to me if you go over my knee now or in five minutes.”
He was so calm. Even though he was annoyed with her. Annika didn’t understand how he managed it.
A whining sound escaped her throat. “Why are you being so… strange?”
“I know,” he said. “You’ve never had anyone be firm with you. You’ve maybe had people discipline you, but it’s always been anger and shouting. Well, it doesn’t have to be that way. And it shouldn’t be that way.” He patted his lap. “Are you ready yet?”
Steven made lying over his knee for a spanking sound almost nice, but Annika wasn’t fooled. No way was she going to willingly submit.
“Just so you know, ordinarily, you’d make matters worse by refusing. But you’re still learning and this spanking is going to be severe enough as it is,” he informed her as he reached out and took her by the hand. Gently but firmly, he pulled Annika down over his lap until she was lying flat out on the coverlet. The position was actually quite comfortable, relaxing even.
“You didn’t even attempt to hide that scarf,” he said conversationally, clamping one arm around her waist. “And you didn’t deny it, which means none of this is punishment for lying.”
“And I didn’t break into the Federal Reserve, so none of this is punishment for the greatest heist in history.”
“Sarcastic are we, young lady?”
“You’re making this long,” Annika complained. “Saying too many silly words.”
“No,” Steven said. “This happens in my time. I say when the spanking starts and when it stops. And you would do well not to get yourself into more trouble when you’re already over my lap.”
His palm settled on her cheeks and she tensed, waiting for him to strike.
“Relax.”
“How can I relax when you’re about to hit me?”
“Spankings hurt more if you’re tense,” he explained. “And I’m not interested in hurting you. I’m interested in teaching you a lesson you might remember so the local clothing stores don’t have to suffer for your need to prove what a bad girl you really are.”
“So this won’t hurt?”
“It’s going to sting.”
His hand landed hard across her bottom. There was nothing relaxing about the spanking. It hurt. From that first spank it hurt. Pinning her thighs between his legs, Steven held her firmly in place giving her no room to wriggle, no place to squirm. Her bottom was stuck, her crotch pressing hard against the ridge of his thigh as he spanked her long and hard, his palm landing with quick, whipping slaps that made her cry out plaintively.
“You lied! It does hurt! Let me go! Let me go do what I want! You have no right to do this to me!” Annika made each shouted statement and demand at the top of her lungs. Unfortunately, volume did nothing to dissuade her spanker. “If you don’t stop now, I’ll steal something as soon as this is over. I’ll run right down to the shops and steal the first thing I see!” She made the threats as his palm rained down on her bottom. Unfortunately, they did not help her situation at all. The only difference they made was that Steven paused for a moment to lift her skirt and continue the spanking over her panties.
“I will not tolerate you stealing,” he growled down at her, emphasizing each word with a firm swat. “I will especially not tolerate you threatening to continue stealing after you’ve been caught. You will do as you’re told, Annika. You will behave yourself. Or you will be punished. Understand?”
“Yes!” She understood. It wasn’t a difficult concept. “But I won’t be.”
“You will be,” he corrected her. “It’s happening right now.”
“Because I did it right in front of you,” she said, squirming under his hand. “Next time, I won’t.”
“I know you’re smart and sneaky. But you will be caught, and the more you try to hide something from me, the worse you’ll be punished for it.”
She felt her cheeks jiggling as his palm bounced off her bottom. Just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties and pulled them down. Her bottom was bare. Her toes started drumming against the carpet as he spanked her harder still, his hand clapping like thunder against her tender skin.
“It’s too much!”
“You’re hot pink,” Steven said. “Not red, not bruised. It’s not too much.” He continued spanking slightly slower, which only served to make each slap burn deeper. “It’s especially not too much for a woman who thinks it’s a good idea to steal to get her own way.”
“You can’t spank me into having morals!”
“No, but I can spank you into realizing that stealing is going to be bad for your bottom. And until you realize that you’re not going to scare me off by acting like a lawless little brat.”
Annika sniffed as the sting rose to a fresh peak. “I wanted something pretty.”
* * *
She sounded so forlorn that Steven almost felt sorry for her. Her slim thighs and round bottom were both flushed, her bottom with the heat from the spanking, her thighs from the futile wriggling.
“If you want something pretty, then you can earn it,” he said. “Just like you earned this spanking.”
“I earned this spanking from stealing.”
“You know what I mean,” he said, before realizing he wasn’t sure she did. He went on to explain. “You can behave in such a way as to earn nice things legally, just like you behaved badly and earned this punishment.”
“That makes more sense,” she grumped.
“Good.” He tapped her bottom. “It wasn’t the stealing alone that earned you this. It was your attitude. I know you’ve been looking out for yourself for a long time. I know you’ve disregarded other people because you’ve had to, but that’s not the case now.”
“That’s not the case today maybe, or tomorrow, but I will have to look after myself soon,” Annika said. “You have me stay today, maybe tomorrow. But then I go away again. They send me back to Russia, or I run away.”
Steven couldn’t believe she was still arguing even with a bottom that was reddening like a ripe tomato. “Yo
u’re not going back to Russia, and you’re not running away.”
She turned her head and looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “You can’t stop those things. Just like you couldn’t stop me from stealing.”
He frowned. She didn’t trust him. And why should she, really. A warm bed, food in her belly, a couple of spankings—that wasn’t going to erase the very real problems she was facing. He renewed the spanking, slapping her bottom with sharp taps that made her skin briefly blush bright then return to the bold shade that coated both cheeks.
The feeling of her hot cheeks soothed him, gave reign to the sense of possession that had been growing from the moment he first laid eyes on her. Her plaintive squeaks led him to lay off some of the intensity, but he kept spanking lightly, cupping her cheeks between slaps in a way that was only just the right side of lascivious.
Reddish down was visible between her cheeks, heralding her nether lips, the sweet pouch of her pussy that wasn’t quite visible but would be if he moved his thigh just a fraction. He’d refrained from temptation so far, but her ongoing squirming was bringing that part of her anatomy into clearer view.
“Are you done spanking me now?”
The question earned another slap, which led to a squeak, which was accompanied by a bucking motion that drew her further over his thigh and brought her pussy into clear view. Soft, puffy lips parted slightly to reveal the opening to her body. She was moist, the soft red down slicked against her body where her arousal had leaked.
Steven was gripped with the urge to touch her there, to smooth his palm over her hot cheeks and to brush his fingertips against her wetness. Her pussy was moving with her hips as she ground herself against his thigh quite unashamedly. Annika didn’t self-censor. She didn’t hide what she was. She followed her impulses, and made him want to follow his.
At first he touched her only lightly, teasing her lips with delicate brushes of his fingertips. There was no disciplinary rationale for it, but the way she moved and softly moaned for more gave him all the motivation he needed.
His finger slid inside, her moist interior gripping him. Slowly, tenderly, he pressed his finger in and out of her body, her juices coating the digit. Annika lifted her hips up, her burnished cheeks rising to his touch as she demanded more from him.
It wasn’t appropriate. It wasn’t proper. It wasn’t anything it was supposed to be, but he couldn’t help it. He pressed a second finger alongside the first, watching with rapturous arousal as her body spread around him, yielding to the pressure of his touch.
Every part of her was beautiful. He wanted to taste her. He wanted to fill her. He wanted to have her for his very own. The clenching petals of her pussy told him she was just as aroused, just as needful. He pressed his fingers into her deeply, then drew them out again, long, slow strokes that made her moan and grind.
“I promise I’ll be good,” she gasped. “If you let me cum.”
Steven withdrew his fingers and tapped her lips lightly. “Bargaining is not how this works,” he said sternly. “If I give you pleasure, enjoy it. Don’t try to angle for more.”
“But I want to cum…” she whined.
She was going to want to cum a whole lot more before she did. Steven teased her outer lips gently, dipping a single finger back inside her heat. She was soaking wet, more than ready to cum. More than ready to be penetrated. If he were a different kind of man, he could press her down on the bed and sink himself inside her. But there were limits. Moral limits, limits that meant he would keep his pants zipped no matter how much her juices ran down her inner thighs.
“Annika,” he said hoarsely. “We can’t do this.”
Regretfully, he pulled her panties back up, hoping to cover her sweet womanhood and the temptation to touch it. It almost worked, but within seconds her panties were soaked against her slit. For one mad second, he rubbed his fingers there, heard her moan and had to yet again battle the temptation not to peel her panties down and follow the course of nature.
“You’re going to leave me like this?” She sounded almost plaintive.
“Sometimes you’ll just have a sore bottom after a spanking. Sometimes you might feel more. That doesn’t mean you’ll get to follow that feeling,” he said, slapping her bottom again. “Remember, this was a disciplinary spanking because you tried shoplifting.”
“What you were just doing didn’t feel very disciplinary.” She ground her hips down and he knew she was doing it to get some pressure on her clit, to try to relieve some of the pent-up sexual frustration he was now responsible for.
He spanked her bottom several more times, hard enough to make her yelp and squeal. He wanted to distract her from her arousal, but all he really succeeded in doing was heightening the sensations. Each swat of his hand bought another gyration, another moan, another grinding motion closer to orgasm.
Unsure of what to do, he rested his hand on her bottom. She was not at rest, she was in constant motion, her bottom wriggling as she ground herself against him.
“Stop that, Annika.”
“No,” she said. “Make me.”
He reached one hand around her waist and slid his hand between her legs, capturing her panty-clad pussy. He could feel her heat and moisture against his fingers, a slick sensation that lubricated the motion between her pussy and his hand.
Nothing he did seemed to stop her. She was determined to cum, her face flushed, her eyes lidded as she worked herself against the ridges of his fingers. She truly was beautiful, a wanton maiden yearning for the touch of a man.
Steven pinched his fingers around the erect bud of her clit. “Stay. Still,” he growled.
She stilled for a moment, panting. He finally had control of the situation again. Sort of. She was being held on the verge of climax. All he needed to do was move his fingers slightly and she would burst into orgasm. Orgasm was inevitable. Whether he held fast or spanked her, or let her go, she was going to cum. The essence of the lesson had been lost, caught up in lust, and it was too late to do anything about it.
He squeezed slightly, then pressed firmly against her clit, helping her to grind as she squealed, arched, and started trembling with the force of climax. It was a beautiful sight, her long legs stretched out and shaking as she came, pressing herself against his hand with gasping need.
“I might have to steal again,” she grinned, leaving him with a sinking heart.
At those words he locked his arm around her waist and started spanking her all over again. This time it didn’t feel good. This time it definitely hurt. He knew it, and she wasted no time in telling him at the top of her screeching lungs. The worst time to be spanked was directly after an orgasm. Arousal blocked out a lot of the sensation, but once the buzz of pleasure wore off, one was left with nothing but the stinging soreness.
“Stop! Steven! Please!”
He couldn’t afford to let the last thing she remembered be coming and getting away with misbehavior. She needed the last thing she remembered to be a good sound spanking that did not feel good, but made her think twice before she misbehaved.
She didn’t understand any of that, of course. She thought he was just being mean. She thought he was making her bottom burn because he was cruel. Unfortunately, she was just going to have to think that. He’d play the bad guy if it meant keeping her safe and teaching her the lesson she so desperately needed to learn.
By the time he stopped spanking, she was sniffling. Tears were tracing down her cheeks and there was no trace of her prior triumph in her body. She was a much subdued young woman.
“Are you going to steal again?”
“No,” Annika sniffled.
He lifted her up into his arms and held her close. “That wasn’t easy on you, I know,” he murmured in her ear as he stroked her back and hair. “But remember. I’m here. Whether you do good or you do bad, I’m here.”
“Why?”
The question cut deeper than Steven was prepared to admit to himself. “Because you’re a good girl who deserves to be ta
ken care of,” he said softly.
She stiffened in his arms. She didn’t believe him. She sensed that there was more to the answer, but the more to the answer was more than he could bear to say. That she reminded him of someone very special, someone he’d lost years and years ago, that looking after her gave him a reconnection to a feeling he’d not had in a very long time.
It wasn’t that Annika looked like Amelie, or that Amelie had ever stolen anything. She hadn’t. Their similarity lay solely in the way they made him feel. From the moment he’d meet Amelie, he’d felt protective of her. In much the same way, Annika aroused a similar impulse. It wasn’t that she was weak. It was that she was brave beyond measure. It took guts to fly from Russia to America to marry a strange man, and even more guts to leave him for a life on the streets when it became apparent that things were not going to work. Annika was a woman who made things happen. Amelie had been the same way. They would probably have liked one another very much.
“Okay,” Annika said from inside his embrace. “I feel better now.”
He realized he’d been holding her a little too tightly. He let go and smiled down at her. “So we have an understanding. You follow the laws of the land and behave yourself and you can avoid that kind of spanking.”
* * *
Annika was secretly thrilled. Steven proved himself as a disciplinarian—that she wasn’t particularly thrilled about. What did excite her was the way he’d shown some serious promise as a lover. She thought all priests were virgins, but there was nothing chaste about the way he’d touched her. His hands had bought her pleasure with a practiced touch. There was much more to Pastor Steven Soames than met the eye. She was sure of it.
“What if I don’t want to avoid anything when it comes to you?”
He sighed. “I think we need to talk, Annika.”
