*
Kate had never actually been spanked before. Not for real, not like this. The closest she’d come had been an occasional smack on the ass during sex. Which she’d loved, of course. As Kate swallowed her pride and balanced herself over Erato’s knees, palms planted on the laminate flooring in front of her face, she reflected that this wasn’t exactly the unequivocally awful punishment she was pretending it to be. No matter how fundamentally embarrassing it was to be taken over someone’s knee, she couldn’t deny how wet the ritual had already made her.
Erato smoothed gentle circles over her panties-clad bottom. “This is the first part of your punishment.” Her hand rose and came back down with startling speed, delivering a mildly stinging slap to one cheek. “You won’t like the second.”
Kate opened her mouth to ask why not but bit her lip when a slightly more powerful smack landed on the other cheek. She took a breath to compose herself but cried out when Erato spanked her twice more in quick succession. Each blow reverberated through her lower body and settled squarely between her legs. Squirming, she spread her legs in a silent plea for more.
“Still feeling silly?” Fingernails dragged over the cleft of her buttocks, and then her panties were yanked down, around her knees. Erato established a slow, deliberate rhythm, alternating between her cheeks, slapping with enough force that Kate had to concentrate on keeping her hands on the floor rather than reaching back to protect herself. “Answer me.”
Kate shook her head. “Not silly. No.”
“How about sorry?” The blows ceased just as they threatened to become too painful, allowing Kate a chance to catch her breath. As though sensing that she needed a moment to collect herself, Erato switched back to rubbing her bottom tenderly. “Do you feel sorry, Kate?”
“Definitely.” Sort of. She was sorry she’d gotten her phone taken away, but she wasn’t exactly sorry to be in her current position. She could feel how wet and swollen she was and knew Erato had to be perfectly aware of the effect this punishment was having. Hoping for a couple of fingers to soothe the ache between her thighs, Kate spread her legs as far as the panties that were still around her knees allowed. “I’m really sorry, Erato. Seriously. You’re right…about everything.”
Well, she hadn’t meant to go quite that far. Still, if it got her fucked—
Once again totally in synch with her needs, Erato pushed her fingers between Kate’s thighs and touched her slick labia, cupping her. “This doesn’t feel very silly.”
“It’s not.” Kate rocked her hips against Erato’s hand, trying to force a more focused touch. “Please, Erato.”
Without moving, Erato applied slightly more pressure to her labia. “I was right. This isn’t much of a punishment.”
Kate started to argue, but Erato cut her off with a renewed flurry of slaps. The last two were painful enough to bring tears to Kate’s eyes, though she refused to let them fall. She was too proud to ask Erato to stop. As soon as the blows ceased, Erato’s hand was back between her legs, once again checking her wetness.
“Luckily, as I said, this is only the first part of your punishment.” A single finger traced up and down her slit, then pressed deeper to circle her opening. “So I still have the opportunity to leave a lasting impression.”
Kate held her breath. Would she be penetrated hard and fast? Or would Erato drag it out, perhaps try to humiliate her a little more? She tried not to grin as she waited to find out. Regardless of what had gone down between them due to her indiscretion, the day just kept getting better.
“Want to know the second part?” Erato eased the tip of her finger inside, just far enough to almost bring relief. Kate raised her hips as best she could, hoping to draw Erato deeper, but the move earned her a sharp, painful blow across the center of her bottom. Balancing as best she could, Kate reached back with one hand to protect herself from another slap. Seemingly anticipating the move, Erato caught her wrist and held it behind her back, trapping her in place. “I’m sorry, but did you forget that this is supposed to be a negative consequence of your actions? Be good and stop fighting me right now.”
With effort, Kate forced herself to relax completely. Total surrender was never easy, but her current position didn’t leave her many options. Besides, she’d agreed to be punished. Sighing, Kate said, “You’re right. I apologize. Again.”
“Thank you.” Erato released her wrist and returned her hand to its place between her thighs. She rubbed Kate’s labia with her fingers while simultaneously easing her thumb between her buttocks to tease her anus. Kate braced herself on both hands, certain she was about to need the extra support. That’s when Erato stopped moving her hand—and delivered a devastating blow. “Kate, the second part of your punishment is that I’m forbidding you to orgasm until you meet your goal. I want all your energy focused on these next thirteen thousand words. Obviously you aren’t as motivated as you could be, so consider this me doing you a favor.”
She removed her hand.
Kate groaned, unhappy about both the threat and the fierce hard-on Erato was leaving her with. “But you said—” Smack. She gasped, cursing her traitorous body for reacting with renewed arousal to the firm slap against her already-sore ass. Figuring that the worst possible consequence would be another deliciously pleasurable spanking, Kate dared to finish her thought. “I thought sex fueled creativity.”
“So does desperation.” Erato patted her bottom softly. “Now stand up. It’s time to go back to work.”
Kate wasn’t positive her legs would support her. “Seriously?”
Erato’s pats became increasingly hard slaps, which finally compelled Kate to her feet. Giggling, Erato gazed up at her with an altogether too-amused smirk. “Oh, did this finally become a punishment?”
“And a deterrent.” Kate scowled, pulling up her panties before rubbing a careful hand over her sore bottom. “Remind me not to cross you again.”
Erato’s eyes sparkled. “I will.”
Not for the first time, Kate wasn’t sure whether to be frightened or aroused. The only feeling she was positive about was her frustration. No more orgasms for thirteen thousand more words? It seemed strangely impossible. She doubted she’d ever achieved such a feat before, even without a lover in her life. Writing erotic fiction made her horny—being horny usually seemed like an adequate excuse to seek release. Granted, it was a bit of a vicious cycle that often ended with her fully sated but lacking in progress. But to be cut off completely? And after getting worked up like this, with that spanking?
Kate waited until she was fully dressed to raise a final objection. “This is cruel and unusual, you know. I’m honestly not sure what it will do to my writing process. Like…really.”
Erato stood and walked to the door, patting Kate’s sore bottom one final time as she passed. “I have complete faith in you.”
Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Kate grimaced at the faint echo of pleasure that radiated from her wet center. She wanted so badly to coax the sensation to the front, to bring herself to the peak—
“And Kate?” The sternness in Erato’s voice snapped her out of her fantasy, fast. “Touch yourself and the goal gets bumped up another three thousand words. I’m not kidding.” After a beat, authoritarian Erato melted away, replaced by the sweet, sexy muse she’d come to love. “Now write! I’ll make fruit salad.”
With that, Erato swept out of the room as confidently as she’d come in, taking a piece of Kate’s pride with her. Resigned, Kate returned to her office chair and sat down cautiously, all too aware of how deliciously sore she was. It took every ounce of her self-control not to clench her thighs together and rock subtly on the chair, anything for a little thrill. Only her fear of Erato’s omnipotence—and a sense that her muse’s creativity knew no bounds when it came to discipline—stopped her.
Kate inhaled deeply and stared at the monitor, willing her mind back to where it had been when Olive’s first text came in. Distracting, indeed.
Chapter Thir
teen
The next four days passed in a blur. Kate wrote all day long, stopping only to eat, visit the restroom, and take an occasional nap. Although Erato tried to convince her to take more frequent breaks, even attempting to get her to go for a walk in the local park, Kate maintained a laser focus on her goal. Nothing was more important than the next thirteen thousand words of her writing career.
She was able to knock out another two thousand words after recovering from her spanking, followed by another thirty-four hundred the next day. Day three of Operation: Olive floated by like a fever dream, and when Erato finally dragged her to bed at the end of it, she was thrilled to discover that she’d logged an astounding five thousand words. The fourth day was distressingly unproductive, as she spent most of her morning paying her monthly bills and answering important emails, but she still managed to write eleven hundred words by the time she forced herself to call it a night.
That meant she had only fifteen hundred words to go. A mere fifteen hundred, and she would be set free. She would have permission to contact Olive. She just hoped that Olive hadn’t lost interest in meeting up.
Unfortunately, the chapter in which she would finally reach her goal started out with what she hoped would be a smoking-hot—albeit very secretive, and therefore hurried—sex scene between Rose and Molly in Rose’s office. Molly had just dropped by Rose’s workplace at the end of the day for an unannounced visit, armed with a plan to appeal to Rose’s sense of propriety and get her to agree to make theirs a strictly professional relationship. She knows perfectly well that Rose’s mother would flip out about a romance between them and doesn’t want to hurt an old woman she’s come to care about. What Molly didn’t anticipate when planning this breakup, however, was the sexy, tailored suit that Rose wore so well—the one that weakened her resolve the moment she walked into her office.
So that meant that right now, on the morning of day five of her thirteen-thousand-word goal sexless writing marathon, Rose was just about to pull Molly in for a passionate kiss that Kate was almost certain would end with Molly laid out across the desk. There would be licking, sucking, fingering. As she considered all the wonderful possibilities, Kate gripped the edge of her desk and prepared for the challenge ahead.
Writing sex made Kate want to fuck. It was always difficult to propel herself mentally to the place she needed to be in order to craft a love scene and not walk away from her laptop to take care of business. Today was a million times worse than usual. She hadn’t had an orgasm for over four days. Her whole body was coiled tight, and although her mind had remained surprisingly sharp despite her preoccupation with sexual release, the task of imagining all the different ways her beautiful heroines could bring each other pleasure was torturous.
She had no choice but to power through this and just write. A truly talented author would use her frustration—and the increasingly lascivious thoughts it triggered—to her advantage. If she could make her readers feel even half as turned on as she did, she’d consider the scene a masterpiece.
Kate closed her eyes, fingers on the keyboard, and placed herself in Molly’s shoes. She was the point-of-view character in this chapter, so her perspective needed to dominate. Molly was there to end their sexual entanglement for good. She was determined, though weakened by the sight of Rose in business attire. The confident, powerful image Rose projects reminds Molly of the first night they met, when Rose rescued her from that blind date.
Confident. Powerful. Those qualities had attracted Molly to Rose in the first place. It made sense that those qualities should govern during this scene in which Rose easily persuades her not to end their sexual relationship. Kate had a flash of two women—one in a tailored business suit, the other in a light, flowing dress—locked in a heated embrace. Rose would initiate the kiss and escalate the encounter to the next level. They’d kiss, and then Rose would pull away to lock the office door.
Satisfied that she now had a little direction, Kate opened her eyes and began to type. She rocked almost imperceptibly against her chair as she did, enjoying the light friction on her clit. After testing the waters over the past few days, she’d concluded that this level of self-stimulation was permissible, bless Erato’s vicious heart. The words poured out of her steadily, coming together like magic to create one of the most passionate kisses she’d ever written. Aroused by her own imagery, she had to stop and breathe with her characters when Rose finally broke away to secure the office door. She gave them—and herself—a moment of respite via an exchange of dialogue. Molly asks what Rose is doing. Rose: “Reminding you how good we are together.”
Kate stopped typing and checked her word count. Only five hundred and two! Surely she’d managed twice that. How the hell did Erato expect her to churn out another thousand at the end of such a grueling stretch of abstinence? Annoyed, she took a drink of water, then a bite of tangerine, and tried to slow the rapid-fire fantasies burning through her brain. Rose could do so many things to Molly on a big wooden desk. First she should really decide if Molly would end up on her back, seated on the edge, or simply bent over the surface. And would Rose use her mouth, her fingers, or something else to make Molly come? If she were Rose, she’d fuck Molly so hard. If she were Molly, frankly, she’d want to be fucked hard. She’d take it any way it was given to her.
That probably all went without saying. Fuck, her clit hurt. If she didn’t come soon, she might embarrass herself.
Closing her eyes again, she imagined Olive sitting on her desk in place of her laptop, legs spread, skirt pushed up over her hips. If she had the woman she wanted here with her right now, what would she do?
Taste her. Kate groaned as she imagined pulling Olive’s panties to the side to expose her wetness. Though she’d like to think she’d take time to tease Olive thoroughly, in her current state, she wouldn’t. She’d devour that pussy. That was most likely true for Rose, too. They were in her office, at her workplace. End of the day or not, Rose wouldn’t draw things out. No, she’d dive right in and feast.
Shuddering at the visceral image of going down on a woman planted firmly at the forefront of her mind, Kate wrote Rose guiding Molly over to the desk and helping her sit on the edge. After she wrote the part where Rose pushed Molly’s skirt up over her hips, then yanked her panties out of the way, she had to stop, plant her hands on the surface of her desk, and gasp for air. She had no idea if this scene would read back later nearly as smoking hot as it felt to her now, but she expected a lot of excited readers if it did.
Another word-count check revealed that eight hundred and fifty remained. Obviously she’d have to forge ahead into the thick of the action, even if thinking clearly was becoming more difficult. With a determined shake of her head, Kate hunkered down to decide how the rest of this coupling should play out. She could simply write a few more sentences detailing Rose’s oral technique and Molly’s quiet, enthusiastic pleasure, but if she had Olive in this position, no way would she stop at simply going down on her. Not with the woman she craved spread open right there in front of her. No, she’d slide at least one finger into Olive, maybe two. Maybe even sneak another down to tease her ass. If Olive were here, she’d want to possess her completely.
Swept away by the vivid imagery playing out in her mental movie theater, Kate fought not to forget the importance of realism in her love scenes. She didn’t want to describe something that real human beings would have a difficult time doing—and enjoying—lest she yank savvy readers out of the erotic mood she’d labored to create. As she’d never actually performed oral sex on a woman while seated at her desk, let alone simultaneously fingered her pussy and touched her ass, she wasn’t totally certain it was feasible.
Rolling back from her desk about a foot, she tried to imagine Olive sitting there in front of her. The height seemed okay for oral sex. Maybe. She bent slightly, as though performing cunnilingus on a make-believe friend, then raised her hand and extended two fingers. She moved them back and forth in the air, leaning down to where she thought Molly
’s pussy would be located. Could Rose even pull this off? All of a sudden, she wasn’t sure this scene would work the way she’d wanted.
Kate growled in frustration. Eight hundred and fifty fucking words left, and she lacked the mental clarity to even choreograph a simple sex scene. She brought her hands to her face and released another enraged noise, pissed off that she was even dealing with this. Why the hell was she letting Erato deny her sexual release? For that matter, why allow her “muse” to dictate anything about her life and habits? She was a grown-ass woman, which meant she could masturbate if she wanted to, damn it. While she freely admitted that the denial thing had apparently worked for her for the first twelve thousand one hundred and fifty words of Erato’s insane homework assignment, now that she was so close to her goal—and attempting to depict her characters getting laid—it just wasn’t working for her anymore.
The quiet knock on her office door barely surprised her. By this point, she was well accustomed to the way Erato always seemed to appear whenever Kate needed her most—and, sometimes, when she wanted her the least. Shoving down her anger at Erato’s extreme motivational techniques, she said, “Come in.”
Erato set Kate’s pulse racing by walking into the room wearing a light, flowing dress that matched her cerulean eyes. The style and cut were very much like the dress she’d imagined Molly wearing to Rose’s office, and immediately, Kate focused on Erato’s thighs. How would it feel to shove that dress up and expose her panties? To push them aside and see how shiny and pink and ready Erato was at the thought of her lips and tongue? She glanced at the surface of her desk, then Erato, trying to judge the realness of her scene now that she had an actual, live female body in the room. If only Erato could help her out and just—
The Muse Page 13
