Bared and Tamed

by Kallista Dane

“The palm strike was a little slow in coming and you made two mistakes,” he said, all the while steadily increasing the pressure on her hand as it gripped the cell phone. “First, you telegraphed your move. Second, you checked the force of your blow. Unfortunately you haven’t learned there’s a difference between sparring in a martial arts class and actual street fighting. Now, if you’ll put the cell phone back down, I’ll let go of your hand… and I won’t press charges for assault.”

  She swallowed and nodded silently, unwilling to trust that she could keep the rising terror she felt from her voice.

  He gently brought her hand back down to the table and released his grip as the cell phone fell onto the desk.

  “By the way, I backed up that voicemail to several different locations. I doubt you could find them all. So there’s no reason to search for it and try deleting it again when you come to work at my house. You’d just earn yourself a much harder spanking than the one you’re going to get for pulling that stunt. When our six-month agreement is up, if everything works out, you’ll have a full-time job here with an employment contract that you can draw up yourself. I’ll delete the voicemail in front of you and destroy all the copies, and your duties as my personal assistant will end.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

  “Please, sit back down and I’ll answer your question,” he replied, his voice more gentle than she’d heard it since she walked in the door.

  “Rylie, I think you’re one of the most effective negotiators I’ve ever seen. And there’s no doubt that you’re a brilliant attorney. Jerry worked hard to secure that contract for us. But I’ll be honest with you. We would never have gotten it if Zenith’s board of directors had listened to you and made the changes you were pushing for. They were too stupid to realize that you were right—and too bullheaded to take advice from a woman. I want you on my team for the next big deal, Rylie. You can be the best there is—if you learn to control those two dangerous habits you’ve allowed yourself to indulge.

  “I think you can help me in my business—and I think I can help you in your personal life. Are you willing to accept all the terms of my offer?”

  Rylie stared down at her hands. He was bringing that Sullivan charm out again. She’d heard respect and even admiration in his voice. Despite her anger, she felt a hot little thrill building deep inside. In all her years, Rylie had never met a man stronger than she was. Sure, they were often bigger, usually more muscular. But she’d never found anyone who sparked the tingle of excitement she felt now at the idea of being paired with someone who might actually be able to defeat her when it came down to a battle of wills.

  In her experience, there were two kinds of men… bullies who lost their tempers and yelled or descended to threats of violence, and weak ones who simply retreated rather than square off against her. She’d never before met a man who responded to her tirades with calm assurance that she would eventually see things his way—and promised to turn her over his knee if she didn’t. That’s probably why I’m still alone, she thought. I’ve never met a man who was willing to go the distance with me and win my respect.

  Deep inside, Rylie was suddenly aroused by the image of being mastered, being made to bend over the lap of a bigger, stronger male figure and having him spank her ass. She shut off the feminist part of her brain that was horrified at the very thought, and allowed her primitive self to emerge—the woman who found herself rocked by a jolt of raw sexual desire. She raised her head. Meeting Sullivan’s eyes, she responded with a calm that hid the torrent of emotions inside her.

  “Yes, Mr. Sullivan, I accept your terms—in full.”

  Sullivan stood up. “Good. Normally I’d reserve what’s coming next for when we’re in my home office. But we’re alone here and in light of your extremely poor recent behavior choices, I think it’s best that we start off on the right foot.” Sullivan stood and removed his tie. Rylie felt a flutter of fear mixed with anticipation when he came around the desk and began rolling up the sleeves of his blue dress shirt. “You’re getting your first spanking right now.”

  Chapter Two

  “Wait a minute! You… you can’t do that!” There was a note of panic in her voice.

  “Yes, I believe I can. I made an offer, you accepted all the terms. You agreed that I have the right to spank you for losing your temper, for drinking, and for any acts of disobedience to me. Right now you’re due for a spanking for getting drunk and leaving me that voicemail. But I’m not an unreasonable man. Since this is your first time, I’ll allow you to leave your clothes on and I’ll simply pull up that tight black skirt you’re wearing. Stand up.” When she simply sat there staring at him, his voice became hard. “I said stand up. Now.”

  Rylie found herself obeying.

  Sullivan took her place on the straight-backed wooden chair. “Come here and get over my lap.”

  Her stomach was clenching and her legs simply wouldn’t move. He reached out and with one smooth yank, Rylie was upended over a pair of hard thighs.

  “Since you’re an attorney, I think we can reach a clear understanding of what I require if I put things in terms you’re familiar with.”

  His hands were moving as he spoke, slowly sliding the black skirt up. But his voice seemed to be coming from far away and she was so overwhelmed by the sensation of his hands traveling up her bare thighs that she could barely understand the words coming out of his mouth.

  “Instead of terms in a contract, think of these as laws that you’ll be expected to obey. First of all, in the future, you will strip naked for me before getting into position for a spanking.”

  The skirt was now scrunched up above her ass, and Rylie was acutely aware of just how little coverage the skimpy lace panties afforded her.

  “Do you understand?”

  Rylie had barely realized she was expected to respond when she heard a sharp smack, followed by a flash of white-hot pain. She shrieked and began bucking. He simply draped his other arm across her back and held her easily in place. Another harsh whack made her gasp in shock.

  “I asked you a question. Do you understand that rule?”

  His hand whacked down a third time on her vulnerable backside, leaving another lick of searing fire in its wake.

  “Yes! Okay, yes,” she managed to get out.

  His hand was now tracing circles around the area he’d just smacked. Even through her thin panties, the intimate touch was oddly stimulating and Rylie shivered.

  “When you’re being spanked, you will remain in the position you’re required to take without moving until I give you permission to do so. If you attempt to get away or fight me, the spanking will begin all over again and you’ll get double the strokes. Do you understand?”

  His open palm whacked the spot he’d just been fondling. Rylie jerked, kicking wildly.

  “I don’t expect to be ignored when I ask you a question.” His voice was stern. When he shifted in the chair, Rylie’s legs were suddenly trapped between his. “Now, as I just explained, you’ve already disobeyed one of my laws and this spanking will begin all over again.”

  This time, Rylie shrieked in earnest as he delivered a volley of harsh whacks. She wiggled, yelling and cursing, but his thighs were locked around her legs in an iron grip and his other arm easily held her upper body in place.

  “That brings up another matter.” His voice was calm, even as his hand descended over and over, striking first one cheek, then the other, in a relentless rhythm. “I don’t allow cursing. Not in my office and not in my home. Every curse word will earn you five strokes of the paddle—to be delivered whenever I choose.”

  Rylie struggled even harder. “You fucking asshole! Let go of me. Now!”

  With that, he started smacking her harder. “You just heard the rule… and chose to ignore it. That’s ten more you’re due—on top of this spanking.”

  “You son of a bitch! I don’t care what you do! Give the goddamn tape to everyone—I don’t care. You’r
e never going to touch me again! I’ll see you rot in jail for this.”

  Sullivan laughed. “You’re going to call the cops? Have you forgotten you’re in the South? When you admit that you stayed here after being told that I was going to spank you if you came to work for me, what do you think they’ll do?”

  He stopped and Rylie felt him shift as he grabbed something off his desk. With one sharp yank, he pulled the sheer lace panties down to bunch around her thighs. Horrified, she saw him hold out his cell phone and snap a selfie.

  “Here you are lying across my lap with your skirt pulled up and your bare ass turning nice and red. That should make your case airtight if you’re foolish enough to go to the cops. However, when I look closely I can see that you’re not being restrained in any way. In fact, it sure looks like you’re a willing participant.”

  He studied the photo for a moment, then held it out for her to see.

  “You know, I think I’ll send you this shot, just so you’ll have a constant reminder that I’m serious about my rules—and your penalty for disobeying them. I rather doubt that you’d be foolish enough to risk using it in any other way.”

  Rylie sagged. Sullivan was right. There was no way she could allow this spanking to become public knowledge. Instead of being seen as the victim of abuse, she’d become an Internet joke. The repercussions to her career would be even worse than if he released that damned tape. She quit struggling and lay motionless, all the fight drained out of her.

  “That’s better. I’m a very fair man. I’ll never spank you for breaking a law you don’t know about. But once you’ve been told what behavior I require, I expect you to obey.

  “I’m going to finish this spanking now. And if you learn to submit willingly to my discipline, you’ll find out it will all go much easier for you in the future.” With that, he began walloping her again. Rylie bit her lip to keep from crying out. She never knew an open palm applied to the posterior could hurt so much. Her whole body tensed, anticipating the lick of flame that followed each thunderclap of his hand striking her flesh in the silent room. Every time he whacked a spot over again, the intense burning sensation flared higher. But when he found a new place to land a hard smack, the harsh sting on her untouched skin was even more agonizing.

  Rylie was shaking so hard, she barely noticed when his hand once again began tracing soothing circles over her naked ass. Dimly, she heard his voice murmuring soft words that were just as soothing to her battered ego. He kept on stroking, until her body gave up its rigid stance and slumped once again over his lap.

  Gradually, the soothing circles became caresses. Despite herself, Rylie felt her traitorous body begin to respond. She moaned once, a sound that was half pain, half pleasure. At that, Sullivan pulled up the panties bunched around her thighs. She felt his hand smoothing the wrinkled skirt down over her ass and his hands steadied her as he helped her to her feet.

  Rylie sighed in relief and adjusted her disheveled clothes as she tried to regain a measure of composure.

  “You’re very responsive,” he remarked coolly. “But it’s not time for that yet. First, you have another spanking coming.”

  Her head shot up and she stared at him in shock. “What!”

  “If you recall, I said that I do not allow cursing. In fact, I even told you that every curse word will earn you five strokes of the paddle—to be delivered whenever I choose. By my count, you have twenty swats coming. Now take off your clothes.”

  The man was an animal! All thoughts of compliance to this bizarre agreement flew out of her head.

  “No fucking way!”

  Sullivan shook his head sadly. “That makes it twenty-five.” When she opened her mouth again, he rose swiftly and his hand shot out to cover it. “I really don’t think you want the tally to go any higher, do you?”

  Her eyes widened when he held up the cell phone in front of them and displayed the selfie he’d taken. There she was, draped over his lap, skirt pulled up to her waist, her bare ass showing the bright red imprint of a large masculine hand. Sullivan had her in a corner. If she didn’t submit to another spanking, he would release the voicemail to the press and destroy her career.

  She shook her head, defeated, and he slowly removed his hand from over her mouth.

  “You can yell when I spank you. You can scream at me or cry. You can tell me how mean I am, how cruel. But no more cursing. You’ll find out I’m serious about delivering five swats for every foul word you say. Spouting bad language is just another way you let your temper get the best of you. Also, if you recall, I explained that after the first one, all future spankings would be delivered in the nude. I find that very effective in driving home the submissiveness of her situation to the woman about to be spanked. Now—take off your clothes.”

  Rylie’s eyes shot daggers into Sullivan. But she kept her mouth shut and slowly began unbuttoning her jacket.

  Sullivan sat back down on the wooden chair and watched carefully. “I want you to fold each item and place it neatly on the credenza after you take it off,” he remarked, motioning to a long cabinet arranged at right angles to his desk. That surface was bare as well, except for a wireless printer.

  She did as he requested, turning away from him to walk to the credenza, then folding the jacket and laying it on the wooden surface. But when she began taking off her blouse with her back still turned, he stopped her again.

  “I’d like you to face me as you’re undressing.”

  “Not only are you a sadistic pervert, you have a depraved voyeuristic streak,” she shot back as she whirled around. “And none of those are bad words,” she added before he could respond.

  “Actually I prefer to think of myself as a healthy, red-blooded male,” he answered. “You’re a stunningly beautiful woman, R. L. Duncan. I’d be a fool not to want to admire the view as you strip for me. By the way, please leave your shoes on. I must confess that I’ve fantasized more than once about how your shapely legs would look if you were standing in front of me wearing only those ridiculously high heels.”

  In spite of her anger, Rylie felt a shiver of arousal. Though she still didn’t meet his eyes, her hands deliberately lingered on each button of the red silk blouse. She was rewarded with the sound of a low gasp when she unzipped her skirt and let it drop to the floor. At that moment, standing in front of a fully clad Neill Sullivan in only her low-cut midnight blue bra and panties and her favorite black suede Manolos, Rylie felt sexier than she ever had in her life.

  Sullivan never spoke, even when she unclasped the D-cup bra and freed her lush breasts. Her nipples were already hard little peaks. Rylie wanted to blame it on the chill in the air-conditioned office. But deep inside she knew it was from the unaccustomed thrill of this forced exhibitionism. She was comfortable with her body. It was curvy in all the right places, her stomach was flat, and the muscles in her arms and legs were well-defined thanks to twice-weekly martial arts sessions.

  But there was something new and exciting about being compelled to slowly strip naked, to bare her most private parts one at a time for this man’s pleasure. Rylie could feel his eyes on her, like those of a powerful tiger silently observing his prey from afar before pouncing. She slid the panties down over her hips and let them fall as well, taking her time as she stepped out of them. She bent at the knees to retrieve them from the floor, keeping her legs together, and added the wisp of lace to the pile of garments on the table.

  He finally spoke. “Bend over across my desk. Stretch out your arms and take hold of the corners. That will make it easier for you to stay in position for this spanking.”

  Legs shaking, Rylie did as she was told. When she leaned forward, she was acutely aware of the hard smooth wooden surface pressing against her sensitive nipples. Her legs were long and when she bent over, the heels raised her ass up higher than the rest of her body. Sullivan just sat there behind her, unmoving, and she shivered, imagining him staring at her stinging red bare bottom poised over the edge of his desk.

  She
heard him get up and watched out of the corner of her eye as he went over to the credenza and slid open one of the drawers. A stab of fear replaced the arousal when she saw what he was getting. A flat wooden paddle about six inches wide, easily a foot long, with a narrow handle, like the ones she’d seen hanging on the wall at a frat house party she went to in college. Rylie panicked and bolted upright.

  Sullivan’s hands guided her firmly back into position and he stepped into place behind her. “In the future, you’ll be required to count the strokes. But today I expect you to simply submit to this paddling without any fuss.”

  His arm pulled back and the first stroke came without warning. Rylie shrieked. This pain was much worse than the hand spanking had been. She didn’t know how she would be able to take twenty-five strokes on her already aching bottom. The long paddle covered both cheeks of her ass with each whack, and bent over the desk as she was, there was no way to avoid the blows. She was almost grateful when he held her firmly in place over the desk with one arm across her waist after the first few whacks, since she didn’t think she would be able to maintain her position throughout the whole agonizing ordeal.

  Rather than prolonging her torment, Sullivan seemed to take pity on her. He delivered the rest of the promised swats quickly. She barely had time to register the cruel bite of each one before the next landed.

  Somewhere around the tenth whack, Rylie lost all pride and began crying openly, her tear-stained cheek resting on the cool surface of the desk. She quit counting in her head, struggling just to stay in place as the harsh strokes rained down on her. Her ass was burning, but the humiliation she felt at that moment was even harder to endure. When he tossed the paddle aside and once again began stroking her hot, quivering flesh, she simply lay across the desk unmoving, all the fight drained out of her.

  One hand roamed, slipping down the crack of her ass to delicately probe between her legs.

  “You’re very wet.” He leaned over, whispering in her ear, and trapping her body beneath his. His lips brushed up against the side of her neck and Rylie shivered when his hot breath was followed by the tiniest flick of an even hotter tongue.