by Measha Stone
She watched the spoon hit his palm again and again. “Maybe.” Honesty, her only weapon.
He chuckled. “Well, I can promise you, after this not only will you never lock yourself in the bathroom, but you’ll never view a punishment in an erotic way again.” He spread his legs a little and gestured for her to lay over his lap. “Over my knee.” He waved his hand when she didn’t move.
Gently he helped her over his lap. She placed her hands on the cool flooring, her toes barely touching the ground on the other side of his legs. Such a sight she must be! The jersey slid up, exposing her ass to him, although she doubted he would have allowed it to remain covering her for very long. She should have looked harder for her bag. If she had her panties on, she wouldn’t feel so exposed. He may have already seen her naked ass, but not laid out over his lap waiting for a spanking.
The spoon rested against her bare flesh, and she tensed. She wished he had picked something else for her punishment. He must have noticed it, because he ran the spoon across her ass. “Shh. We are just going to talk a minute.”
Talk? Hadn’t they done that already? How much more talking did he need to do?
“Tell me why you’re here.”
Did he mean over his lap or in his house? Unsure of herself she decided to go with the here and now. “Because I ran away from you and locked myself in the bathroom. And I left the bedroom without permission.” Her voice sounded deeper. Probably because she was upside down, and talking to the air beneath his chair.
“Why did you run into the bathroom?”
“I don’t know.” Her lie earned her a sharp swat. She clenched and let out loud breath. “Because I didn’t want to talk about it, and you would have seen in my eyes something wasn’t right.” She closed her eyes, grateful that she could, and tried to forget for a moment that she was draped over his lap like a naughty schoolgirl.
“Why didn’t you want to talk about it?”
Didn’t they already go over all of this? “Because.” She hissed when the spoon landed another stinging swat. Then he soothed it away with light touches.
“What did I just tell you about hiding?”
Another sharp slap, and another. She was breathing heavy, wishing she could sit up for this talk. “I, we aren’t, I mean, after tomorrow, this all ends.” She let out her biggest worry. It would be over. She’d go back to her suburban home and job, and he’d go back to playing at his club with any number of women at his disposal. True submissive women who knew what they were doing, and what they wanted.
“When you came to the club, when you told me about your breakup and about your desire to learn more about yourself, did I toss you out? Did I tell you to go find Alex and let him deal with you, or did I offer to help?”
He had a point, but it wasn’t the same thing. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t help, it was that he couldn’t. They were a temporary thing, not long term. He couldn’t fix that.
“You offered to help, sir.” She sighed. This was not like her dreams. There was no fondling, or groping.
“So the next time you start to feel overwhelmed with fear, or sadness, what should you do?”
The discussion over one little reaction seemed so disproportional. “Tell you about it.”
“Yes. And why?”
She wished he would just start spanking her now. It had to hurt less than this continual investigation into her psyche. “Because my worries aren’t just mine anymore.”
“That’s right.” His fingers stroked the back of her thighs. “When you keep your worries from me, you tell me you don’t trust me to take care of you. You show disrespect to me by trying to take care of it yourself. You show me that you aren’t submitting to my rule, my authority and protection.”
Well damn. He had a good point there. She had done just that. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so confident that the rest of the punishment was going to go well. A sour feeling began to build in her chest.
“And leaving the room when you were told not to unless you had permission. What do you think that said?”
“That I don’t respect your rules.” She sniffled. Hanging over his lap was making her nose drip. Again, less sexy than previously thought.
“Did you agree to submit to my rules when you came home with me last night?” The spoon ran over her thighs. “I can’t hear your head shake.” His voice darkened.
“Yes, I did, sir.”
“Good girl.” Those two words. His approval sent a warm tingle through her despite the cool fear of having the spoon dangerously close to her sit spot.
Whack! She jumped, flailing her arms out to the side, unprepared for the first bite of the spoon. She hadn’t been ready. His hold tightened around her waist, and he hoisted her further onto his lap, elevating his knee until her ass was higher in the air and her toes didn’t touch the ground at all.
“Keep your hands away, or I’ll have to take other precautions, and you do not want that that, my naughty girl. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” She gulped in a breath and waited. And waited. When she finally relaxed enough to breath normally, the assault began. The next strike hit her right on her sit spot, the third and fourth targeted her thighs. After that she wasn’t sure where he was hitting because her entire ass burned up like it was on fire. She tried to wiggle away from the spoon, but there was nowhere to go. He held onto her tight, there was no leverage with her feet off the ground, and she didn’t dare move her hands to protect her ass.
Each slap of the spoon was harder than the one before it. She wondered how many spoon prints she’d have all over her ass by the time he was done. The pain wasn’t too much worse than the flogging he’d delivered the night before, but it was different. Deeper. There was no sexual undertone, no desire lurking behind each strike. It was pure punishment. No game, no ulterior motive, simply a punishment.
Each smack drilled his words into her head. She’d disrespected him, his authority, the relationship that they had begun. Even if it was only for a few days, there was a dynamic. Lines had been put in place to meet both of their needs, and she’d crossed them. Tears poured down her cheeks as he continued to lay into her. He was speaking, but she could barely hear him over her own sobs.
She wasn’t sure when she’d begun to cry, or when the slight remorse in her chest had turned into full on guilt, but it had. “There you are,” he said. “Now we are getting somewhere.”
After a few more strokes of the damn spoon, a hard sob broke from her and her body trembled. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She didn’t think he could hear her, but he must have because he stopped. He laid the spoon on her back, and ran his fingertips over her raw bottom.
“Shh.” He soothed her while she cried. Tears dripped from her cheeks onto the floor beneath her. Her body responded to his touch, and began to slowly unclench. He didn’t try to pick her up yet, or push her away, he let her cry. Her backside hurt much more than she thought it would, but the crying had more to do with her behavior than the pain.
He let her cry like that for several minutes before he picked up the spoon and pulled her up into his lap. Not wanting to face him just yet, she buried her face into his neck. True to form, he wouldn’t allow it, and shrugged her from him, catching her chin in his hand. “You did good.” He placed a chaste kiss to the tip of her nose. He smoothed the stray hairs from her face and wiped the tears from her cheeks, even as more silently fell.
He helped her to her feet, and with his hand firmly gripping her arm, he marched her to the corner of the eating area. “Almost done, sweet thing.” He kissed her cheek and slid the handle of the wooden spoon between her lips. “Hold this in your mouth, face this corner, and hold up your shirt so I can see your ass.”
She nodded, and did exactly as he said. She didn’t want to stand in the corner. She wanted to be near him, to feel him and sense him. The irony of her emotions wasn’t lost on her.
“I’ll just be at the table. Not far. I promise.” He patted her bottom lightly and walked back to the table
. She could hear the chair scrape against the floor as he sat, the clanking of his fork as he ate.
She stood in the corner, her sore backside on display for him, trying not to drool while holding the offensive spoon. She obviously had picked the wrong one. Thinner wasn’t better than thicker, and maybe it would have been better if it had broken mid-spanking. No matter how much her ass hurt, how bruised her pride, only one thought continued to circle her mind. How could she walk away from him in the morning?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Bradley sat in his home office staring out the window overlooking the backyard. The gardener had planted a new rose garden just outside his window, but he wasn’t looking at that. No, he was watching Erin stroll through the rows of flowers, stopping every now and then to touch and smell one she found interesting.
Things weren’t progressing the way he had planned with her. It had seemed simple enough. Show her a glimpse into his world, help her find her likes and dislikes and send her on her way. No long term attachment. But fuck if she hadn’t wormed her way into his mind at every turn. He never expected to punish her during their weekend. A playful spanking yes, but an actual punishment? And she took it so well.
After he’d finished his breakfast, he’d released her from the corner. He kissed her. It had started as a gentle kiss, but by the end he’d been demanding, wanting to claim her. It had been hell tearing himself away. She’d just been punished. He couldn’t touch her sexually. Not yet. He made sure she was okay. They talked a little about the spanking, she admitted that the idea had been a big turn on, but the actual thing sucked. He couldn’t help but chuckle at her admission. Needing a little space to work through his own feelings on their time together, he’d given her free reign of the house while he went to do some work in his office.
While he sat at his desk contemplating what to do with her, he had heard her in the kitchen. He peeked out of his door to see what she was up to. She was cleaning up from breakfast, washing the dishes, sweeping the floors.
Now as he watched her in the garden, he realized there would be no letting her go home in the morning. He still maintained there would never be a long term relationship with her or anyone else, but he wasn’t ready to let her go.
The ringing of his phone finally dragged him from his gawking.
“Hey, Jerry.”
“Hey. I was just looking over the ledgers you sent over, and I think you have every right to be suspicious. Looks like those two have been running their private spending through the company.”
Bradley clenched his fist. “I figured. Any total yet?”
“Not yet, I want to dig a bit further back, but looks like somewhere in the ballpark of a hundred grand. Each.”
“Shit. That’s more than I thought.”
“The club is doing fantastic financially speaking. They were able to hide their spending because of the amount of profit coming in. I don’t think your accountants did anything illegal per se, but they weren’t allocating the money correctly. But, they could have just been going by what the owners were telling them to do.”
“I’ll set up a meeting. Thanks, Jerry. I appreciate it.”
“We haven’t gone over your portfolio in a while, did you want to set up a time to do that?”
Erin walked into his office just then, interrupting his train of thought. The shorts and tank she’d been wearing in the garden were gone. She stood naked in his doorway. “Uh, sure. I’ll check my schedule and give you a call back.” He kept his eyes glued to the woman sliding down to her knees only a few feet from where he sat. Whatever Jerry said, Bradley didn’t hear it, he was already hanging up the phone.
“Can I help you with something?” Her eyes met his, and a shiver ran through his body. Eye contact had always been important to him, it was his way of leashing a woman, but with her it was more. Better. The connection between them intensified when their gazes locked.
“I was about to ask you the same thing.” Her lips curled into a mischievous grin.
“Yes, you can.” He stood from his chair and walked past her. “Follow me.” He didn’t look back, but could feel her body close to him. He led her up the stairs to his bedroom. Pointing to the foot of the bed, he told her to kneel.
When he returned from his closet where he kept all of his toys, he found her kneeling on the bed just as he’d instructed. Her palms rested face-down on her knees, her legs spread apart giving him a perfect view of her pussy. Shoulders back, chin up and eyes on him. Perfect.
“You said yes to nipple clamps, right?” He held up the two clamps in his hands, letting the connecting chain dangle between them.
Her eyes widened at the sight of the clamps, and he wanted to smile, but he held firm. He stalked to her, but paused when she remained silent. Taking his cue, she nodded. “Yes, sir. But they look more menacing than I thought they would, in real life.”
“I know, pet.” He gave a nod and took the last few steps to the bed where she was within reach. He held the clamps up to show her. She squirmed on the bed, a small fidget, but enough for him to see her nerves. “You may not like them. If you use your safeword, I’ll take them off. They will be uncomfortable, and you’ll take it because I’m giving it to you. Do you understand, pet?” The word pet tingled on his tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time he had the urge to give a submissive a pet name.
A silent nod, then a quiet “Yes, sir.” His dick had reacted the moment she’d stepped into his office naked, now seeing her so vulnerable and open to him made his erection painful. He reached out with one hand, stroking her face, then her shoulders before moving to her breasts. His fingers were soft at first, gently bringing her nipples to peaks.
“Here, hold this.” He thrust the chain into her mouth, letting the clamps dangle out as he continued his exploration of her breasts. His gentle fingers became more rough, pulling and tweaking her nipples. He watched the slight wince in her face when he pinched harder, and listened for the moans when he twisted them. When he thought the sensations were beginning to be too much for her, the pain almost intolerable, he pulled the clamps from her mouth and attached them to her beautiful nipples. Her gasps and moans were almost his undoing. He stroked his fingertips over the exposed ends of her engorged nipples. Another hiss. Music to his ears. “So beautiful.”
He ran his fingers over her body. Memorizing every inch, every curve. It was clear to him that she liked to be touched. Which worked well, since he couldn’t seem to keep his damn hands off of her. His fingers made their way down to her pussy, to her clit. She groaned again, but she didn’t move her hands. Sliding two fingers into her pussy, he let out a low whistle. “You are soaked for me.” He pressed his forehead against hers, taking in her scent, hearing her harsh breathing as he began to finger fuck her.
He noted her flinch when he pushed against her clit and grinned. “Is your clit sensitive?” He didn’t need her to answer. She had already had three orgasms. Of course her clit was tender to touch, but he wouldn’t stop, and he doubted she wanted him to.
“Yes, sir.” She took a sharp breath when he ground the heel of his hand into her clit, still working his fingers in and out of her. His free hand grabbed her ass, pinching her cheek hard before raking his nails across the smooth flesh. A high pitched yelp filled the room and he grinned against her cheek.
“That’s tender, too, huh?” He had inspected her ass after the spanking, no welts, or bruises but her skin would be sensitive for a day or so. “Suppose you should behave yourself a little better, huh?” He knew he sounded the villain, but it was who he was. He wasn’t a gentle man, not in or out of the bedroom, and she would need to get used to that.
“Yes, sir.” She breathed slow, controlled breaths.
He released her pussy and fondled the chain connecting the clamps. Another wince, but she kept her eyes on him. So good. He watched her reactions as he pulled the chain toward him: trepidation, fear, arousal. Her eyes glossed ever so slightly as he pulled the chain farther. It had to burn, but she made no
complaint, no plea for him to stop. She was simply taking what he gave her, and it all showed in her eyes. He had seen the look, the longing, the intent in a sub’s eyes many times. He knew it when he saw it; it was his pleasure that drove her arousal higher.
“Please,” she whispered.
“If I yank these off, it will hurt a lot. Or I can unclasp them. That will hurt, too.” He kissed her lips then licked the corner of her mouth.
“Which way do you prefer?”
She squealed but didn’t answer, only shook her head. “Answer me,” he said, digging his nails into her ass again.
“I don’t know!” A quiver ran through her words. “Which would please you more?” She turned her eyes back on him, tears began to build, and he couldn’t tell if they were from the discomfort in her breasts or the uncertainty of her answer.
“Fuck. Erin. Everything about you pleases me.” It was the truth. She hadn’t done a single thing that didn’t make his dick want her, or make his mind wander to her. “But I want you to answer this one. I want to know which you want.” He released her ass and moved further around her to face her, keeping the chain in his hand. The decision was tearing her a part. If she would only decide, it would be over for her, but her indecision was prolonging the discomfort.
“Either way hurts. One is quick and intense, the other slow and achy. Decide Erin. I want your decision.” He tugged a little harder. “Or maybe I’ll make you do it?”
“Yank them!” she said in response to his threat.
“Ah, why? Because you think it’s what I want or because you want it over with?”
“The intensity. I want the intensity.” If he thought he couldn’t get more pleased with her, he was wrong. He couldn’t help but groan his pleasure.
“Should I count?” he teased. “Look down, pet. Keep your eyes on your tits. Watch me pull these off.” She took a few calming breaths and tilted her head down, tucking her lower lip into her mouth, her muscles tensed in anticipation. “Don’t you dare look away.”
He twirled the chain around his middle finger, getting a stronger grasp on it. Her lip completely disappeared into her mouth. He waited another moment, until she began to settle into the reality of what was to happen. Her shoulders lowered, the muscle in the side of her neck softened. With one quick pull, both clamps popped off, and she yelled out with little regard to any audience there might have been. Lucky for her, his neighbors were far enough away that she could scream her heart out and they wouldn’t hear her.
