by Maren Smith
“Brandon?”
I froze; only one voice could be so soft and warm all at once—it was the same tone she used every time she called me “Sir.” I braced myself on the table, spreading my fingers wide and breathing deeply. I was reluctant to look up, afraid that when I did, I would only discover that I’d heard nothing more than a figment of my imagination brought to life by sheer desperation. Chances were that when I looked up, all I would see were teenagers trying to gyrate to country music.
“I know you’re busy. Maybe I should—”
“Don’t go.” It came out louder than I’d intended. I forced myself to raise my head and when I saw her standing there, her arms folded over her chest as she bit down on her lower lip, I felt weak with relief. If nothing else came from tonight, at least I knew I wasn’t going crazy.
I was hit with so many emotions at once that I didn’t know which to act on first. Part of me wanted to find an empty classroom and scold her for not returning my phone calls and making me worry. If it was Ms. Simpton’s class, I knew where to find an old wooden pointer that I could put to good use. Another part of me wanted to use the same abandoned classroom to throw her down on the floor and fuck her. She’d left me in such a state of confusion, soon followed by anxiety for her that the idea of taking out my aggression in the form of hard kisses and intense, powerful thrusts was very tempting.
There was a moment, however brief, when I considered playing aloof, but the urge to forget the past three days using her body as my roadmap to amnesia far outweighed any other option. Especially considering the ruby red cocktail dress that fit her body like a glove, displaying her bare, feminine shoulders and showing off her perfectly sculpted, athletic legs. Just one glance was all it took to make my cock stir to life, proving that even if the woman took my breath away, everything was in working order downstairs.
“You came,” I managed at last.
“You invited me.” She gave me a little smile. “I mean, if you still want me to be your date.”
For all my waffling and indecision, the doubt in her voice spurred me to action. I walked around the table and took her hand in mine, giving it a light squeeze. “Yes, I still want you to be my Valentine.”
I heard her exhale heavily and she looked so relieved that I thought she might swoon. “Thank you. I mean, I’m glad. Brandon, I—”
“Don’t. I just want to have a good time tonight.” She studied me for a moment before nodding her agreement. “Dance with me?”
“Lead the way.”
Giving her hand another squeeze, I began to maneuver through the clusters of wildly dancing partygoers, careful to keep her close. She was my Cinderella and there was no way I was letting her out of my sight. A glass slipper was a poor consolation prize.
I’d just dodged a group of giggling girls when I came face-to-face with Ms. Simpton, who was coming from the opposite direction. She put a hand on my arm, exclaiming, “Hello again! And who is this pretty young thing? And where have you been hiding her?”
“Ms. Simpton, meet my date, Karen. Karen, Ms. Simpton. She’s the best English teacher this school has ever had.”
“I’m practically the only one they’ve ever had,” she scoffed, but I could tell she was pleased with the compliment. “They want to get rid of me, you know. But I think they keep hoping I’ll up and die so that they don’t have to go through the trouble of firing me. It would save them the paperwork.”
“Sounds messy either way,” Karen quipped, and Ms. Simpton eyed her with new appreciation.
“Isn’t that the truth? Well, I don’t want to keep you. You two have a good time, and if you forget about our dance, I won’t hold it against you, Brandon.”
“Oh, no, don’t think you’re going to get off that easily! We had a deal!”
When she waved us on, laughing, I decided we were in as good a place as any and took Karen in my arms. I pulled her close, inhaling the sweet, flowery scent of her shampoo, relishing the feel of her feather light hair on my cheek. I was full to bursting with questions; I wanted to ask what had made her decide to come, ask where she’d holed herself up to mope for the last few days, what she thought the future held for us. Was there a future for us? I knew that any of those questions could end with her sprinting away the moment my back was turned, so I began to sway to the music, intending to keep her in my arms for as long as possible.
“Are you mad at me?” she asked, her voice so soft that I almost didn’t make it out over the dull pulsing of the music and the constant hum of loud conversation.
If I wasn’t sure I heard right, one look at her face, the apprehension in her wide, brown eyes confirmed it. I should be mad—I had every right to be, and God knew I wouldn’t hesitate to paddle her pretty ass if I got the chance. Even so, she never failed to stir my sympathy when she talked in that repentant, little-girl voice. “I’m more hurt than mad, Karen.”
She dropped her eyes as if she was too ashamed to look at me. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Love hurts sometimes.” I spun her around, delighting in her giggle, and pulled her against me, her curvaceous bottom pressing against my thighs. I let a hand caress her firm bottom and gave her cheek a squeeze. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already.”
Her voice was breathy when she replied, “I wouldn’t be here if I could forget, Brandon. Believe me, I tried.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about that,” I said as I turned her around to face me.
She grew quiet and I tried to focus on the rhythm of the music, the feel of her body pressed against mine. When my cock grew large and hard, straining at my pants, I knew I’d done perhaps too good a job.
“What happens now? Are we, I mean, are you—”
“Not now.” I put a finger to her lips, putting an end to questions I didn’t have the answers to. We would have a heart-to-heart sooner or later and it might end with us deciding we didn’t work together. If that was the case, I wanted to put it off for as long as possible. “We will have to talk about this sometime, but this isn’t the place. Just dance with me.”
“Kiss me,” she begged, and I didn’t hesitate to lower my mouth to hers.
***
While we were at the dance, we fell back into such a relaxed rhythm that it was easy to forget that we had a reckoning coming. I was tempted to forget about it all together, just this once to put it behind us and move on. Like most things, it was easier said than done. When I walked into the living room and saw her sitting on the couch, practically in the same spot she’d been in the last time I’d seen her, I knew we had to talk it out. It was a shame, though—she looked so damn hot with her legs pulled together bewitchingly, her face all aglow despite the apprehension in her eyes.
Business before pleasure, I reminded myself. At least, I hoped we’d be ending the evening on a good note. “Are you ready to talk?”
She licked her lips nervously. “Do you have any more of that wine?”
I decided not to point out that she had changed the subject; I’d let that one slide, but I was going to have to set the tone soon. “That depends. Are you planning on driving home tonight?”
She glanced down for a moment before raising her eyes to mine. “I was hoping you might let me stay the night.”
I groaned inwardly, painfully aware of how tight the crotch of my pants had become. “Of course you may stay. If you change your mind, I’ll be happy to take you home.”
Was I crazy to be doing this? I wondered as I made my way into the kitchen. The last three days had made me crazy with worry and helplessness—I didn’t know if I could go through that again. Maybe she had been right, maybe I had asked for too much, expected more than she could give. If that were the case, how could I knowingly put my heart on the line again?
As soon as I put the wine glass in front of her, she plucked it off the coffee table and took a long swallow. “What is that they say about wine? Liquid courage?”
“In vino, veritas.”
“Right,” she giggl
ed. “And I suppose it’s true with me—lightweight!”
I stood in the doorway, watching her, afraid to get too close. I knew all too well how her nearness made me want to ignore anything else. “Then drink up so we can talk.” I watched as she put the glass down and began toying with the fringe on one of my throw pillows.
“I don’t know where to start.”
“I’ll make it easy for you. How are you doing?”
“Loaded question, but I’ll stick with ‘fine’.”
“Nice try, but I don’t think so. Answer the question.”
She looked surprised at the sternness in my tone, but hurried to do as I’d instructed. “I’m doing as well as can be expected, I suppose. I jump every time the phone rings, I haven’t been on my computer since it happened. I don’t want to...”
I nodded in understanding. “You haven’t been back to work.”
“No. I doubt they want me there.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Karen. I’m sure no one blames you.”
She gave me a small, sad smile. “I’m sure everyone blames me. That’s the point of having a CEO—having a fall guy.”
“What are you going to do? You can’t hide and hope it goes away.”
“I know. And I will deal with it, I promise, but first... I wanted to make sure that you and I... that we’re all right.”
I arched a brow. “All right? You told me you didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“I know!” She sounded so agonized my heart went out to her. “I am so sorry, I was upset and I said things I didn’t mean. I was completely out of line and I don’t expect you to forgive me.”
“Then why are you here?”
“It’s just, even though I don’t deserve it, I was hoping you’d forgive me anyway.” Her voice quavered on the last word and I couldn’t hold out any longer. I walked over to the couch and sat down beside her, looking in to her troubled eyes.
“I can’t be your fall guy. You blamed me for—”
“I know, and if you knew how sorry I am—”
“Karen.” I held up a hand, frowning. “Do not interrupt.”
She flushed at the sharp reprimand. “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”
I didn’t think things were back one hundred percent yet, but that was a start. “You blamed me for something I had no control over. It was completely unfair, and in more ways than one. Care to tell me why that is?”
“Because you didn’t have anything to do with it, Sir.”
“That’s true. And?”
“Um, because I shouldn’t have yelled at you?”
“Is that a question?”
“No, Sir, there is no question about it. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
“No, you shouldn’t have, but that doesn’t answer my question. Do you need some help?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“It was unfair because not only did I not have any say in what happened to your company, but that you thought I would ever tell you something that would hurt you is ridiculous. You need to understand that following my orders and running your business are two different things. Yes, I expected you to obey me and yes, I told you to be nicer to your employees. Did I tell you to start being a push-over?”
“No, Sir.”
“Did I tell you how to run your business?”
“No, you did not, Sir.”
“Did I make decisions for you?”
“No, Sir.” Her words were little more than a whisper now, and I knew she was getting my point.
“Your business is yours, Karen. I would never interfere with business decisions, and that is completely different from what I asked of you.”
“I understand, Sir.”
“I’m glad to hear it. More wine?”
“Please,” she answered, and I took the glass off the coffee table.
I took a sip and leaned forward, pressing my mouth against hers. She opened eagerly and I kissed her, letting the wine spill onto her tongue.
“Sometimes love hurts, but it can be unbelievably pleasurable, too.”
Her eyes had taken on a far-away, dreamy look. “Sometimes there is pleasure in the pain, Sir.”
I chuckled at her observation. “Well, I’m glad your time with me hasn’t been a total waste. At least I taught you that.”
“Are you going to spank me, Sir?”
I took another swallow of her wine, surprised by the question. “Do you want a spanking, Karen?”
“I don’t want you to spank me,” she admitted, “but I want to know that I’ve paid for the mistakes I made.”
“I don’t think that’s going to work.”
“What?” she sounded stunned. “Why not?”
“Because you can’t remember your manners, for one.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
“You seem to be saying that a lot today. It’s also because I can’t go back to the way things were, with you claiming to accept my discipline one day and throwing it in my face the next. We promised to treat each other with respect, and if you can’t do that, then I don’t want to resume a relationship where I’ll get hurt again.”
Slowly, my words seemed to sink in. When they did, she looked shaken. “Brandon, please try to understand. I am trying hard—harder than I ever have for anyone in my life. I know I messed up; I don’t think I really understood just how badly until right now, but I will do anything to make it up to you if you’ll just give me another chance.”
“I want to, but I have to know that this is what you really want. I’m not playing a game when I’m with you. I'm not roleplaying. This is what I want our life to be like.”
“It’s what I want, too. I can’t say it makes sense to me all the time, or that I like it when you tell me what to do—I definitely don’t like it when you punish me, but...”
“But?”
“I like how I feel when I’m with you. You make me feel special and loved and I guess that’s worth a spanking or two, when I deserve it.”
“You deserve a red bottom more than any woman I’ve ever known.” I stroked her cheek to soften the words.
“I want you to lead me. I want to follow you no matter where it takes me. I know I haven’t known you for long, but you make me happier than I’ve ever been. I don’t know what’s going to happen with my job, and I don’t care. I can handle anything, if you’re there to help me.”
“You’re sure this is what you want? If you want me to punish you, I will, but I’m not going to stop until all your mistakes have been paid for, that’s a promise. It could take weeks.”
“That’s a shame, I was hoping for years.”
Her words choked me up a little. I doubted she would ever know how much she’d moved me. To have a submissive for fun was one thing, but to have this independent, vibrant woman surrender herself to me was the rarest kind of gift. And now I was going to unwrap her.
She didn’t make a sound as I pulled her over my lap. I warmed her up with quick hand spanks and rubbed the satin fabric that held her beautiful ass. She hadn’t so much as groaned yet, so I slid the hem of her dress up, getting an eyeful of her pink-tinged cheeks, bared except for the string holding the thong into place.
“This is nice.” My cock surged with new, hot blood, telling me that it was more than nice. I rubbed her bottom some more, determined that she would feel every bit of this spanking for the next few days. When I began again, the spanks were harder and came quicker together. I kept my fingers loose which made them sting more on impact. Soon, the pink blush of her cheeks deepened and I could feel her tense over my lap.
I stopped for a moment to rub her lower back. “Relax. You’re doing such a good job—I’m proud of you.”
I heard her satisfied sigh a moment before she unclenched her cheeks. The moment she did, I renewed the spanking with a hearty vigor. I delivered solid spanks all the way up her warm ass before making my way back down again. I paused to pay special attention to her sit-spot, after which she began crying out with each spank.
&nbs
p; “Hang in there, sweetheart. We have a while to go.” Setting my mouth in a firm line, I made the spanks even harder—my punishing hand connecting with her bare bottom sounded like exploding fireworks. Judging from the nice, red color her butt was taking on, she was feeling a fire of a different kind.
I rained swat after swat on her tender portiere, not even pausing when she began crying. I was determined to give her something to think about every time she sat down for the next two weeks, in the hopes that I wouldn’t need to take her over my knee again any time soon, unless it was for more enjoyable activities.
“I’m sorry,” she was saying, over and over again. I ignored her, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible. I could tell just from looking at her cherry-red ass that she was in agony, so I was prepared when she began scissoring her legs to get away. I threw my leg over hers, pinning them into place and allowing me to continue uninterrupted. I was pacing the spanks out now, giving one only every thirty seconds or so, and they certainly didn’t carry half the weight of the earlier wallops I’d given her, but she still burst into fresh tears and emitted a wailing shriek with each new swat.
I stopped after two more to each sit spot, but I still held her over my lap, letting her cry it out and catch her breath. When her wails had diminished to sobs and those had quieted to sniffles I removed my hand and guided her until she was sitting on my knee.
“I-I’m so-orry,” she cried into my chest.
“Shh.” I stroked her soft, dark hair. “I know. I am so proud of you.”
She clung tight to me at the praise, and I gave her a few more minutes to calm down, hugging her close. I let her cry into my chest until my shirt was wet with tears and she’d cried herself out. “We’re almost done here.”
