by Loki Renard
“Good.” He delivered another swat. “How many left to go now?”
“Ten,” she gasped, clutching at the desk.
Each swat of the paddle fell heavy and hard, jolting her further into the realization that he held all the cards and she was going to have to obey him if she wanted to avoid further discipline. She could feel him behind her, his height, his strength, his mass, the force of his will pinning her more than his hand. As the paddle fell several more times, she sniffled and whimpered pitifully. Her bottom felt huge and hot, and seemed to expand with every subsequent slap of the paddle.
Steven laid the final three swats on hard, landing each of them across the meatiest part of her anatomy. She couldn’t help but leap and squeal, but he had her firmly in hand and she took the full brunt of each swat exactly as he intended her to.
Finally, it was over. He laid down the paddle, gathered her up from the desk, and pulled her into his arms. He felt so warm and so strong as she pressed against him, not understanding why she felt so comforted by the very man who had just paddled her. She should have been angry. She should have wanted to hit him back, but all she wanted was to have him forgive her.
“You were in fine form today,” he said, snuggling her against his chest. “Feeling better now?”
Annika nodded. “Yes,” she admitted as he drew her down into an armchair, rubbing her bottom as he cradled her.
“I know you’re scared of what this all means, and I know I messed up earlier,” he said. “I’m sorry about that.”
“You’re sorry you freaked out? Or you’re sorry you touched me in the first place?”
“I’m sorry it happened so quickly,” he said softly. “I don’t want our relationship to be based on lust. You deserve better.”
She was gratified to hear that he thought they had a relationship, but she still didn’t see what his problem was. “What’s wrong with lust?”
“Nothing, when it is accompanied by tenderness and knowledge and love and commitment. It’s too soon for us to start a physical relationship.”
“No, it’s not.”
“No?” He lifted a brow at her. “And why not?”
“Because we already have,” Annika said. “You’re trying to fight nature. Man always loses against nature in the end.”
“By that argument, all lust is acceptable. Anybody could sleep with anyone, regardless of marital status or anything else. There are rules to keep us safe, sexually and emotionally.”
“Rules are for cowards,” Annika declared. “I do not follow rules.”
“I’ve noticed.” He patted her bottom. “Listen, brat. I care about you. I like you. I’m attracted to you, and I want you around. Is that not enough for now?”
She shrugged and pouted. “It will have to be.”
“You are so close to earning yourself another spanking,” he said, stroking her hair. “Is that what you want?”
“No,” she mumbled.
“Do you feel cared for?”
“Maybe,” she admitted.
“Good.” He kissed her cheek. “Because you are. Now, can you entertain yourself today without getting into trouble? I have a sermon to finish and the church to prepare for tomorrow.”
“I’ll be good,” she promised. To her surprise, she meant it.
Chapter Five
Sunday soon came around. Annika found herself wearing an uncomfortably scratchy dress and sitting in a pew alongside Mary and John. She’d not been asked if she wanted to attend the service. It had been more or less assumed that she would. Mary had helped pick out a dress suitable for the occasion and had also made sure to come to the door to collect her in time to file in and get a seat.
They were seated about four rows back from the pulpit. The church was full, and the reason why was obvious. Steven. He was attractive, eloquent, and he made his sermons halfway relevant to issues his parishioners were dealing with in their lives. Annika listened quite entranced by his treatise on obedience.
“Obedience is a gift,” Steven said, glancing at Annika in such a way that made her feel as though he were talking directly to her.
Annika wasn’t sure she was buying what Steven was selling, but he did it so well that he could have been reading a shopping list and still have sounded compelling. Her mind drifted as he spoke, her eyes feasting on the lines of his shoulders, which were broad and strong in spite of the fact that he was wearing a dress. They called it a cassock, but it was definitely a dress.
“Disobedience,” she heard him say as she drifted back to reality, “has consequences. Now, Mrs. Wimpole will take the reading.”
A wizened woman took the lectern and began reading from the book of something. Annika wasn’t paying attention anymore. She was just waiting for the service to be over so she could get changed into something more comfortable and tease Steven about obedience and his dress, not necessarily in that order.
The reading seemed to go on for an awfully long time. Minutes ticked by into other minutes and still it continued. “Is she going to read the whole book?” Annika murmured the question to Mary. Mary giggled softly.
What seemed like a lifetime later, Mrs. Wimpole was still reading, still articulating every syllable of every word as if her life depended on it.
Annika was beyond restless. Steven’s little speech had at least been interesting. This droning was the antithesis of interesting. Annika had to do something to stop her brain literally dying of boredom.
Taking the sheet of paper announcing next week’s bake sale, she folded it into quarters, pressing her thumbnail along the seams. When they were nice and neat, she slowly tore along the lines, creating four rectangular little pieces of paper. Each of those four pieces was folded into four, and so on until she had sixteen rectangles. Annika had a plan. A boring reading had just turned into an experimental flight simulator. There would be sixteen prototypes, each tested for speed, distance, and stealth.
“Don’t do that,” Mary said when the first prototype had taken shape beneath Annika’s nimble fingers. Only Mary could see what was going on, and fortunately her tummy did an excellent job of shielding Annika from other prying eyes. John might have noticed, but he had his eyes closed and his head bowed. Praying, maybe. Sleeping, likely.
Annika waited for a moment that felt appropriate and launched her first plane horizontally across the church. It sailed low through the pews and ditched unnoticed beneath people’s feet. Annika mentally awarded ten points for stealth, five for speed, and three for distance.
The second plane had a slightly longer nose and ailerons flipped up at the rear of the wings. It was launched toward the pulpit with a quick, fast release. Too fast. Too quick. It coasted over three rows of seats, then circled up and around on itself before diving straight down into the elegantly curling hair of a woman who didn’t notice the landing. A small titter escaped a few of the back rows, followed by a shushing.
Steven looked up and around, but saw nothing. There was nothing to see; the plane had landed at the back of the woman’s hair and everyone else was doing their best to look appropriately serious. Annika bowed her head so as to look appropriately pious as she constructed her third plane.
The third plane was a work of art. The nose was sleek and pointed like a needle, but bent back against itself where the wings extended, giving it forward weight. She kept the ailerons from the second plane, started the launch low and flicked it up at a 45-degree angle.
Flight number three was beautiful. The plane sailed up and clear across the church, peaking in height just as it passed over the lectern. A collective gasp rose from the throats of those watching as the plane just cleared Mrs. Wimpole’s hair and arced down to land directly before the altar.
Annika was so busy beaming at the achievement that it took a few seconds for the prickly sensation of being glared at to sink in. She lifted her eyes from the plane and saw Steven giving her a look that took stern and amplified it by many orders of magnitude.
It was madness to repeat the misbeh
avior, but the testing was not even a quarter of the way through and seeing as the reading still hadn’t stopped, Annika figured at least one more creation was in order. She folded another plane as quickly and quietly as possible, but the launch was aborted when John’s hand came over Mary’s lap and grabbed her wrist. He didn’t say a word, just held her hand for a second, then gave it a light slap and moved his hand away again.
“Seriously,” Mary whispered. “Cut it out now, or John will haul you out of here before Steven has a chance to deal with you.”
Annika folded her hands in her lap. She didn’t feel bored any more. Steven did not look amused, and she could feel the disapproval emanating from John as well. She was in trouble.
On the bright side, the service was actually winding up. Steven was making a few last-minute announcements. Something about garden parties and clothing drives and other suitably charitable things. Annika was planning her escape when she heard her name.
“As you may have noticed, we have a new member of the congregation today,” Steven said. “Annika, stand up, please.”
Annika’s eyes widened. She shook her head hurriedly, but it was too late. All eyes were turning in her direction. Mary urged her up, so she stood awkwardly, half glaring at Steven, half smiling for the benefit of the congregation.
“Annika is staying at the church house. She’s from Russia originally, and intends to make her home here. Say hello, Annika.”
“Hello,” Annika said.
“Hello,” the congregation chorused.
“Annika’s interests include physics and applied aeronautics,” Steven said dryly, earning a few little titters of his own. “She’s still settling in, so if you see her about the place looking lost, please do offer your assistance.”
Annika sat down, feeling every part of her face from her neck to her scalp to her ears burning with embarrassment. It was a nice introduction, but he’d also outed her to every single person in the room. Now everybody knew not only what she’d done, but precisely who she was and where she could be found.
The organ player started plying the keys and Steven started the procession down the center of the church, followed by the choir, thence by the people in the front rows. Annika noticed that Steven had stopped just outside the door and was busy saying goodbye to the parishioners as they filed out of the church. It seemed like an opportune moment to remove herself from the situation.
“No, you don’t,” John said, catching her by the arm before she could slip away. She looked up into his face and saw not a trace of sympathy there. A little shiver went down her spine.
“I wasn’t doing anything.”
John snorted. “I think I’ll keep you with me until Steven has a chance to deal with you. You’re lucky. If you were mine, I’d have spanked you bare right in the middle of church.”
Annika’s eyes narrowed up at the big man. “Well, it’s lucky I’m not yours, because I would have…”
“Annika!” Steven entered the church.
“Your little friend was just threatening me,” John said cordially. “Would you care to finish that sentence, Annika?”
“No,” she said, feeling very much outmatched by the presence of both large men.
“Thank you, John,” Steven said, retrieving her. “Please, go enjoy the morning tea. I’ll take her from here.”
John nodded and moved off without another word, but with a very dire look at Annika that made her want to hiss at him.
“You and I need to have a conversation, little miss,” Steven drawled down at her, taking her back into the vestry, a small room where cloaks were held and the wine and crackers were stored.
Steven removed his stole and his cassock as she stood there, hoping he’d take his shirt off too. To her disappointment, he didn’t. He sat down on a spare pew and drew her close between his thighs, looking up at her, but losing none of his authority.
“You were naughty.”
The blunt statement made her blush.
“I wasn’t,” she denied, feeling little thrills of excitement rushing through her body as his large hands settled on her hips.
“You shameless girl!” Steven said, sounding as though he were about eighty years old. “You know better than to throw paper planes in church.”
“That woman should have known better than to hold everybody hostage for half an hour. People were dying of boredom.”
“The reading was fifteen minutes at most.”
“Fifteen minutes too long,” Annika maintained, squirming back and forth in his grasp.
“You know you’re going to be spanked for this, don’t you? And you’ll never interrupt another service with juvenile pranks.”
“I don’t have to come to services. That way I won’t interrupt them.”
“You will come to services, you will listen and pay attention, and you will behave yourself,” Steven said firmly, pulling her over his lap. It was an impossible thing to resist, Annika discovered. Once he provided even the slightest bit of forward momentum through her upper body, it swung over the fulcrum of his thighs and then she was caught, the tender region of her buttocks positioned perfectly over his thighs.
He wasted no time in starting the spanking, though he did begin over her skirt. A small mercy, she thought. It didn’t stay feeling merciful for long, however; soon he swept up her skirt and began spanking over her panties.
She started squirming, making an attempt to free herself from his punitive grasp. It did not work terribly well, though she did manage to free one leg and sort of wriggle it around almost between his legs.
“Quit moving, you little brat,” Steven said, spanking her again. Her legs were partially spread around his thigh, her pubic bone pressed against his leg in a way that made every single slap fizz and burn in a way that was not at all unpleasant.
She did keep still. Keeping still felt good. The harder he spanked, the better it felt. Little gasps escaped her lips, but Steven must have interpreted them as signals of discomfort and not pleasure, because he kept spanking in that same rhythm, slapping her bottom over and over while lecturing her on proper ways to behave.
“People come here to pay their respects, which means you need to respect their worship,” he said, adjusting her in a way that made her clit grind all the more into his thigh. “You sit quietly and you behave in a way you’d want them to behave if something was happening that mattered to you. I’m not forcing you to pray, or to convert. I’m saying there is a requirement that you attend church on Sundays because it’s an important part of the culture here and it will do you far more good than harm.”
“Except to my bottom,” she gasped.
“You don’t seem to have much interest in keeping your bottom from being sore,” Steven said, slapping her bottom soundly. “You seem to put your immediate entertainment and gratification ahead of considerations of consequences. I know you’re a smart woman, Annika. You need to start thinking before you act. Impulsive misbehavior will lead you down the wrong road.”
Every single word was accompanied by a stinging swat that made her hips buck against his body and sent a fresh bolt of excitement rushing through her pussy.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Yes,” Annika promised.
“Are you sure? Because it looks like you’re too busy grinding yourself against me and wetting your panties.” His fingers slid down the center of her bottom, passed briefly over her pantied pussy lips, then returned in a light but very stinging slap.
“You can’t spank me there!” Annika clamped her legs together.
“If you don’t want to be spanked there, you can behave yourself while you’re being spanked,” Steven said. “Even when you’re being disciplined you misbehave, you little brat.” He spanked low around her bottom and upper thighs, close to her pussy without actually slapping it again.
Unfortunately for his disciplinary aims, the spanking felt good again. Even though there was no direct contact, she could feel the trickles of excitement rushing through
her body, her juices flowing all the more, spreading the soaking wetness through the crotch of the panties to dampen her thighs.
“This isn’t going to work, is it?” Steven sighed, resting his palm on her bottom in a way that felt caring and possessive at the same time. “You’re going to need a lot more than a little hand spanking to teach you a lesson.”
“Maybe I could make it up to you another way,” Annika suggested archly, earning herself a hard slap that made her yelp.
“We’re in church, Annika,” Steven lectured. “This is not the place to make lewd suggestions.”
“Where is the place?”
His hand came sweeping down in a much harder swat that caught Annika across the top of her thighs and make her squeak with genuine discomfort.
“Annika,” he growled. “You are going to have a very sore bottom tonight, young lady. Now go to your room.”
He let her up. She snorted at him as she stood. “You’re just afraid of sex.”
There was a sound like a growl. She felt his hand on her chin, tipping her face up. He kissed her roughly, his tongue seeking entrance to her mouth, his other hand clamping around her punished bottom as he plundered her lips with a passion she had not suspected him capable of. His touch was masterful, demanding, possessive. Annika was breathless and weak-kneed when he released her.
“Go to your room,” he repeated. “I will deal with you later.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Annika refused. How could he possibly think about sending her away when her lips were puffy with the insistence of his kiss, when every fiber of her being ached for his touch. “You can’t tell me you don’t want me.”
“I do want you,” he said. “Of course I want you. But… there are proper ways to do these things.”
“The proper way to do these things is just to do them,” Annika said boldly. “I am a woman. You are a man… at least… I thought you were…”
He pulled her to him again, his hand clasping her bottom as he began kissing her with that masculine hunger that made her forget everything besides him. She ground herself against his thigh, pressing the inflamed parts of her body against him with shameless need, which he encouraged by cupping her bottom as they kissed.
