In Time for Love

by Kessily Lewel

  She sighed and sat up, considering a hot shower and then sleep, but her eyes lit on the bar. It was well stocked, as part of the perks of having a suite, but she hadn't really checked it out yet. She wandered over, looking to see what was available, and despite already having had more than enough alcohol, she decided to make a rum and Coke to settle her nerves. It was a mistake; drinking alone had never been good for her, but she wasn't making the best decisions at the moment, and she was feeling a little self-destructive.

  Besides, he'd practically ordered her to go to bed and then left her. It made her feel indignant and rebellious, pretty much guaranteeing it was the last thing she was going to do. Part of her did want to obey, to be a good girl and do what he said, but she stamped that part down, reminding herself that he had no right to give her orders, anyway.

  Three heavily-poured drinks later, she was feeling melancholy and sad and decided to go out on the balcony to stare at the water. Somehow, one bad decision led to another, and she found herself sitting on the railing with her bare legs dangling out over emptiness. She couldn't even see the water so far below, though she could hear the splashing of the waves as the ship cut through them smoothly. The motion was hypnotic, and she let her legs swing in counterpoint.

  She wondered idly what it would feel like to fall forward into the dark, and her hands let go of the railing almost as she thought it. She was dizzy and unsteady, but the sudden adrenaline rush of danger surged through her and it was almost enticing. She had no intention of actually letting herself fall; she was sad, but not suicidal. She just wanted that rush of feeling and maybe a way to prove to herself that she was brave and strong.

  There was a voice behind her. "Katherine, put your hands back on the rail," he said. His tone was soft, pitched low to avoid frightening her, but she almost slipped as she turned to look.

  "Jack? I thought you left!" she blurted. Her voice rose on the last word as she swayed dangerously and then grabbed for the rails to balance herself. Her heart was rattling in her chest as she caught herself.

  "I forgot I still had your key, so I came back to return it, but when I knocked, you didn't answer. I thought you'd already passed out, so I let myself in, but you weren't in bed," he said, moving closer to her, one step at a time.

  "Oh." So, he didn't come back to be with her; he was just being the good guy, like she already knew he was. It figured. She sighed and turned back to the sea. "Well, thanks, just leave it on the bar," she said.

  "If you think I'm leaving while you're pulling dangerous stunts like this, you're crazy," he said tightly. There was barely restrained anger there, maybe fear for her, too, and she kind of liked how he was reacting. It meant he did care, at least a little, and she wanted to push that line to see how much. It was manipulation, but she didn't care.

  "I'm fine. Just getting some air. You can go," she told him with a dismissive wave that made his eyes narrow.

  "Katherine, get down off the rail, now! It's not safe, even without all the alcohol, it would be dangerous," he insisted. He was almost—but not quite—close enough to grab her.

  "Now, why would I want to do that?" she teased. She lifted one hand and waved it at him. "See? Perfectly safe."

  "Katherine, damn it!" he snapped.

  She laughed, letting her head tip back, hair whipping around in the wind, and she lifted the other hand free. "Look, Jack, no hands!" she said. She was amused at how worried he sounded; it seemed a fitting revenge for rejecting her, but she wasn't expecting the sudden jerking of the ship as it crested an especially large wave. Suddenly, she felt like she'd completely lost her balance, and she started to fall.

  Jack lunged forward and grabbed her by the back of her dress with one hand, wrapping the other arm tightly around her waist to physically yank her back onto the balcony. She told herself that she was never in danger of falling into the sea. After all, she'd been leaning backwards, so it was more likely she'd have just fallen to the deck of the balcony, but she really wasn't sure. All she knew was that Jack had caught her, and she was grateful.

  At least for the moment. "Holy fuck, thanks!" she blurted. Her heart was thundering rapidly in her chest, and a surge of energy burst through her, inspired by the sheer terror.

  "Don't thank me just yet, Katherine," he said grimly. "I can't believe you'd do something so stupid with everything you have to look forward to! All of the—to risk it all for—stupidest thing I've ever—" He was so furious that he was barely making sense, and she could only stare at him in confusion as he yanked her bodily back into the suite and slammed the balcony door shut. He yanked the curtains closed, too, as if he wanted to block out the sight of the balcony entirely.

  "Jack? Jack, it's okay. I'm fine," she said, trying desperately to placate him. Something low in her belly flipped, nervous butterflies telling her she was in trouble, but even though she was a sub type and he was clearly a dominant type, she didn't actually expect him to do anything to her. After all, he'd been a complete gentleman, and there had been comments about 'if you were mine' but he'd seemed content to just tease her.

  "Okay?" A short bark of laughter burst out of him, but the sound was more angry than amused. "Nothing about this is okay. If you had any idea…" He dragged her across the room and pushed her at the bed, letting her fall onto it while he tried to calm down. He took to pacing back and forth and muttering. What she could hear clearly didn't really make much sense, but it was obvious how upset he was.

  Her stomach churned with guilt over it. She'd escalated a situation that probably already would have pissed him off. "Jack, I'm sorry. I had too much to drink and I just—" She didn't need to say she'd made bad decisions, because that was painfully obvious.

  "That's not an excuse, Katherine," he said, stopping to look at her. His eyes fairly sparked with anger, brows almost meeting at the bridge of his nose. "You could have been injured or killed. If you went overboard, no one would have known until it was too late!"

  She shivered and looked down at her lap. Not trying to tempt him to stay this time, her hands were folded there penitently. She was afraid that she'd just chased him away and was full of regret for what she'd done. Not that she could blame him; she was a mess right now. All she could do was repeat that she was sorry.

  He covered his eyes with one hand, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "You're just lucky I don't have any authority over you. If I did, you'd be a lot sorrier," he growled.

  She wasn't entirely expecting the words that burst out of her mouth, not that she should have been surprised, considering everything she was feeling at the moment. "Just do it. Whatever you think I deserve, do it," she said softly but emphatically. She didn't look up to see his reaction, but there was a sudden stillness in the room.

  He snorted, breaking it. "Katherine, I'm not sure how you think I'd handle this situation, but I assure you, it wouldn't be any fun for you. I don't do foreplay as punishment. It wouldn't be a few slaps across your ass before we fell into bed together."

  She shivered, but oddly, that didn't make her want it any less. She'd been suffering from guilt all week over the self-destructive behaviors, and knowing that there was no one to punish her for them made it worse. It had just sort of come to a head, tonight, after all the alcohol had taken away what was left of her common sense, and it felt right that she needed someone to finally do something about it. She took a deep breath and looked up, catching his eyes and holding them. "I know. It's not like I haven't been punished before, you know. I do know the difference between punishment and foreplay," she assured him.

  Though after she said that, she wondered if she really did know what she was letting herself in for. Christopher did punish her, at times, especially if she was being stubborn and wouldn't give in to his demands, but in those cases, he tended to do it by ignoring her; dismissing her for a few days or a week. Most of the physical stuff, spanking and such, did have an element of foreplay. Even when it was painful, the arousal was still there. He liked to incorporate sex into all of his spanking
s, saying that it was useless for punishment because she'd probably enjoy it, anyway.

  And of course, she'd never had another dominant, but if she'd ever deserved punishment, this was certainly the night—for the stupid balcony stunt, for drinking too much, and a whole host of other sins. "I'm sober enough now to know that I made some bad mistakes tonight, and I deserve to be punished," she said quietly. Then she let her eyes drop back down to her lap, staring at her fingers as they twined nervously.

  He was silent as he looked down at her. She could feel his eyes boring into her and wondered what he was thinking. He didn't keep her waiting for long. "Fine, you want punishment? I agree; you've earned a pretty good dose. I don't agree that you're sober enough, but we can fix that."

  She looked up quickly, surprise written across her face. He pointed towards the bathroom. "Go take a shower and change into your pajamas," he ordered.

  She hesitated, not entirely sure what was happening, but he just looked at her until she got to her feet. She was a lot steadier now, but he was right; she wasn't quite sober. She moved over to the dresser and opened it, looking back at him again before grabbing a set of pajamas from the drawer.

  She hurried into the bathroom and started to close the door, but before it latched, he said, "Katherine? If you have a hairbrush, bring it back with you. You know the kind I'm looking for," he added.

  Of course she knew. He wasn't looking to brush her hair; he was looking for something to use on her ass, and a shudder rolled down her spine. She hated wood; it was so harsh and unyielding. She closed the door quickly and stripped off her dress and undergarments. She turned the shower on, letting it run while she examined herself in the mirror. Her makeup had smeared at some point; she'd been crying, because the mascara had left trails down her cheeks. She cringed and quickly wiped it all away.

  Her heart was racing with excitement and fear as she stepped under the hot spray, letting it wash the last of the alcohol effects away. There was probably some stress sweat she was glad to rinse off as well; she'd really scared herself on that railing. She took her time, mostly to stall the inevitable.

  Part of her was eager to face him. She wanted that firm touch of dominance, even if it was delivered in the form of a painful punishment, but she also knew it was going to hurt, and she wasn't anxious to rush that. Eventually, though, the hot water began to run out, and she was forced to get out or freeze.

  She took more care than usual to dry off before sliding into her—unfortunately—somewhat childish pajamas. They were inspired by a cartoon that she liked and not something she'd have worn in this situation if she'd had a choice, but she hadn't exactly packed with seduction in mind. The sexy lingerie that Christopher preferred her in had been left at home. She'd just brought a couple of her comfortable cotton short sets, and all of them were colorful and cartoony.

  She'd avoided washing her hair again and now piled it up in a messy bun to get it out of the way. She hesitated, glancing at herself in the mirror to make sure she looked okay. Why it mattered, she had no idea. If he did what he'd threatened, looking cute was going to be the last thing on her mind, but it gave her a few more seconds of stalling time before she finally opened the door and peeked out nervously.

  He was sitting on the end of her bed, waiting with a look of patience on his face. He looked calmer but still annoyed, and she swallowed hard. Her heart felt like it was beating double-time against her ribs, and her palms were damp. What had she been thinking? she wondered in a panicked internal monologue. She was clearly out of her mind; no one asked for punishment!

  Except she kind of had and not just verbally. Her actions had been demanding it ever since Christopher had suddenly tossed her away, and now she was going to have to take what she'd earned. She forced herself to turn back and grab her hairbrush off the counter. It wasn't anything fancy, but it had a wooden back about as wide as her palm, and she knew from experience that it was effective.

  The wood wasn't too heavy, but the laminate coating over it made up for that with added sting. She hadn't even bought it for kinky reasons, originally, but like most things that were even vaguely shaped like a spanking implement, it had ended up being used that way, and she'd discovered, to her regret, that it was a nasty little thing to be avoided. And yet, now, she was slowly crossing the floor to place it in the hand of a man she barely knew. A man who was planning to spank her ass with it.

  "I'm really sorry, Jack," she whispered, sounding sincere.

  "Not as sorry as you're going to be," he said calmly. He took the brush she offered and turned it over in his hands, examining it and then lightly smacking his palm with it to get an idea of the heft. "This will work," he decided finally.

  He shifted his position, turning slightly so one knee was raised on the bed and then he looked at her. "Take your shorts down or off, your choice, but you're not going to need them for a while."

  Her hands fluttered at the waistband nervously, pushing them down to her mid-thigh to expose her underwear. At least those were moderately attractive, black with a lace band, cut high at the sides, Christopher's favorite style.

  Jack didn't seem to appreciate them much. "Those can stay up," he said. She gave him a surprised look but moved her hands away. "I want to make it very clear this is a punishment, Katherine. No temptations for it to go further," he explained. His gaze was flat and his tone a little rough as he reached out, taking her by the arm and pulling her across his leg with a tug.

  She settled there, stomach pressed to his thigh, upper body resting comfortably on the bed while her feet remained on the floor—for now. She tilted her head, looking back over her shoulder, nervously trembling. She'd only ever been spanked for punishment by one person before, at least in her adult years.

  His eyes met hers, and she turned away quickly, dropping her head so that her long hair slid forward in a curtain to hide her face. There was something so humbling about this position. Like a return to childhood, but at the same time, she could feel his hard thighs pressing into her, and she was aware that her ass was positioned for the best advantage—and she did have a nice ass. Whatever other insecurities she had about her body, and there were many, she knew that her backside was one of her best features. The rounded curves were especially appealing to kinky people, and the few times she'd gone to clubs or parties, she'd gotten a lot of attention.

  The panties she was wearing were especially flattering, exposing most of each cheek with their high cut, and she wondered if she could tempt him to turn this into something less punishing. But did she really want that? Would something more romantic even come close to helping with the guilt she was feeling for her poor choices? She'd been so sure she wanted and deserved the good hard spanking he'd implied she was going to get, right up until she'd gone over his lap, and now, she wasn't so sure.

  He seemed to be drawing things out to make her more nervous. One arm settled across her back in a firm weight that pinned her down. The other came to rest on the back of her panties, and she shivered. "I know what you're dealing with right now is hard, Katherine, but you're going to get through this. And someday, you're going to look back on this time and be glad you went through it, because it will make you stronger in the end," he said with a quiet assurance to his voice, like he knew with absolute certainty that he was right.

  She wished she was that sure, because, right now, things felt sort of hopeless. She'd had such a good time with him today, but once he'd left, she'd been reminded that this was only a temporary fix. In a week, she'd go home to her empty apartment and have to decide whether to quit her job so she wouldn't be forced to see her ex every day. She wanted to hope things would eventually make sense, but right now, she just couldn't.

  He didn't wait for her to reply and continued the lecture. "In the meantime, you need to take care of yourself. You are capable of making the right choices without someone guiding you, if you would just believe it. But if you're going to do dangerous, childish stuff in front of me, like what I just saw outside, then I gu
ess I'm going to have to help you," he said firmly.

  She still didn't reply, though the guilt welled up inside of her and she shifted across his lap, feeling miserable and embarrassed. "This is your last chance to change your mind, Katherine. I think we both agree you need this and deserve it, but you can still stop it. Once I begin, I will carry it through until I decide you've had enough. Do you understand?" he asked

  "Y-yes, Jack," she whispered. The feeling of nervous dread in her stomach increased, and she stiffened in preparation for the punishment. She felt the oddest urge to thank him, though, for caring enough to punish her, but it seemed weird to thank someone who was about to blister your ass for doing something stupid—at least, in advance. Afterward, it felt like part of the ritual to thank them for the lesson and not strange at all.

  "And you're sure?" he pressed. His hand tightened across her rump, fingers pressing into her flesh.

  "Y-yeah, I deserve it and…just do it, please," she whispered in a choked, hoarse voice. Please don't drag it out any more, she added silently.

  He seemed to approve. "Good girl," he said as his hand swept up. There was the slightest warning of movement and then it cracked down hard across the center of her ass, causing her to buck in surprise. It was unexpectedly painful! Of course, spankings were supposed to hurt, but Christopher always started off light and easy. This was something else, entirely. Before she could even process the burning pain, his hand had slapped down again; the loud crack echoed through the room, and she made a small sound of panic and clapped both hands over her mouth.

  The intention had always been to play during this trip, and the suite had been carefully chosen, since it shared only one common wall, and that was in the bathroom. So, hopefully, the noise wouldn't carry, but adding cries of pain to rhythmic slapping wasn't going to go over well if it did, so she kept her hands firmly over her mouth as he continued to spank.