by Ivy Nelson
Soon, his kitchen filled with the scents of spices, herbs and roasted vegetables. When he turned from the stove to grab a spoon from the island drawer, he found a very sleepy-eyed Carrie standing in the doorway watching him.
“Hey little one,” he said with a smile. “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Hope you’re hungry.”
“Starved. It smells delicious. I didn’t even hear you come in.”
“One of my many superpowers,” he said with a wink.
With the hand that held the spoon, he motioned at the fridge. “There’s some white wine in there if you want to open it for us.”
She shuffled to the fridge and pulled out the bottle of wine and turned to pull down wine glasses. With a smirk, he watched for several seconds as she struggled to reach them. When she started jumping to try and climb on the counter, he took pity on her and reached above her head to take down the two pieces of stemware she was trying to grab.
“I could have gotten it,” she said with a huff, setting the glasses down on the bar a little harder than necessary.
“Watch it,” he said with a warning tone. “No need to get huffy. I was just helping. It wouldn’t kill you to ask for help every once in a while you know.”
Peter knew he was crossing the line into dominant territory, but he wanted to see how she would handle it in a setting that wasn’t a play party or sex. To his surprise and pleasure, she murmured an apology.
Setting the spoon down, he turned the heat off on the stove and turned to face her. She had her back to him pouring wine, so he slipped his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“I missed you,” he whispered. “I’m really sorry about our day.”
Turning in his arms, she smiled up at him. “It’s OK. I promise. We had fun and I found out you have a great ass. The day wasn’t a total loss.”
His arms still around her, he pulled back and quirked one eyebrow up at her. “A great ass huh? Why are you just now noticing my ass?”
Her hand slid down and pinched his butt through his slacks as she waggled her eyebrows. “I wasn’t exactly focused on your ass the other night. And you always wear suit jackets or untucked shirts, so I’ve never gotten a good look. But today in those jeans…” She fanned herself as her voice trailed off.
“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” he said, dropping a kiss on her nose before turning back to the stove.
He dished up the whole grain pasta and chicken and then scooped roasted veggies onto the plate alongside it.
Soon they were dining on bread, pasta, and to Peter’s great pleasure, veggies.
Carrie asked for seconds, which Peter happily got for her.
“I told you so,” he said when he handed her the plate. Her tongue poked between her lips and she wrinkled her nose at him.
His palm twitched, so he settled into the chair across from her and eyed her pointedly. “I have a serious question.”
“That can’t be good,” Carrie teased between bites.
“I spank subs who stick their tongue out at me. We kind of left things up in the air the other night, so I don’t exactly know if I have the consent to do that.”
Instead of getting angry, or shy, or any of the other things he expected, Carrie appeared thoughtful as she swallowed a mouthful of pasta. “If I say yes, are you going to spank me now?”
Peter shook his head. “No because you didn’t know my rules about not sticking out your tongue. I just want to know where we stand for future reference.”
That answer seemed to satisfy her because she said, “OK. I consent.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. You’ve been low-key domming me since we met, and I told you I was willing to try more than just the scene we had at Edith’s.”
“That you did, Miss Davenport, that you did. You’ve delighted me. If you check the freezer, you’ll find a present.” He winked and went back to eating his own food as she jumped up and went to the kitchen.
“Aww. You’re so sweet it’s disgusting sometimes,” Carrie said with a squeal as she found the carton of raspberry brownie ice cream he had purchased. Peter chuckled when she came back to the table eating a spoonful of the stuff.
Together, they cleaned up the kitchen and Carrie asked, “Where’s the package?”
Peter grinned and thrust his hips provocatively. “I’ve got your package right here baby.”
“Oh my God. Did you just make a dick joke?” Her eyes were wide with incredulity.
Peter laughed and pulled the envelope out of a kitchen drawer he had stashed it in earlier. “Get your mind out of the gutter woman.”
At the kitchen table, Peter carefully opened the envelope as the dishwasher whirred behind them. Inside, was a flash drive and a note addressed to Peter.
Peter,
Do not open this on any government machines. I tried to strip out anything that would trigger an alarm but it’s better to be safe. Make sure Carrie Davenport gets it and opens it on an air gapped computer. She’ll know what to do once she sees it. This could be my last delivery for a while. I need to go underground for the safety of everyone involved.
RIP
“I wish I knew why there were telling us to rest in peace,” Carrie said as she read. When a shudder shook her, he slid his chair closer and slipped an arm around her.
“Could R I P be initials?” Peter asked.
“I’ve been thinking that but so far I can’t come up with anyone with those initials. I don’t know where to look though.” Looking up at him she said. “You’re pretty sure this person has to know you, so do you know anyone with those initials?”
Peter had been going over and over that same question and so far, hadn’t come up with anyone even remotely close to those initials. But it had to mean something. So far, everything this person had done was very deliberate. The signature would be significant just like everything else.
“We need an air gapped computer,” Carrie said, almost to herself. “Have any cash lying around? I can get a cheap machine for a couple hundred bucks.”
“I do actually, I keep a grand in the safe for emergencies, but why cash?” he asked.
Carrie’s eyebrows rose. “Really? You’re former CIA. If we use a card, the name on the card will get tagged to that machine in records. With cash, no names so if it does accidentally get connected to the internet, it’s harder to tell who bought it or who accessed the files.”
Peter tapped her nose. “Smart girl. Maybe I don’t need to worry about you so much.”
She stuck her tongue out and then her hand flew to her mouth before Peter could even frown. “Sorry,” she whispered.
“You’re lucky we need to go to the store,” Peter said. “I’ll have to give you your spanking later.”
“Or you could just not,” Carrie suggested. Peter just shook his head and laughed.
“Nope. You’re not getting out of this one little girl. Let’s go. There’s an electronics store that should be open for another hour just up the road.”
Forty-five minutes later, Carrie set up the new laptop, being careful to keep it from connecting to the Wi-Fi in Peter’s apartment. He watched her shift into work mode, her legs crossed underneath her, and her hair pulled up into a ponytail. After she finished the setup, she held her hand out for the flash drive. Peter settled onto the couch next to her and watched as she plugged it in. At first, it didn’t make sense to either of them. It was a single folder filled with spreadsheet documents.
Carrie opened the first one.
“God, I hate spreadsheets,” Carrie muttered as she scrolled through line after line of data. Peter agreed, and he was glad the anonymous tipster had told him to pass the information on to Carrie. Soon, she was lost in her work, mumbling to herself as she opened each document.
“Could you get me some coffee?” she asked without looking up from the screen.
Wanting to see if she was actually paying attention to him, he said, “I can, but if I do you get a harder spanking l
ater.”
Tapping the space bar a couple times, Carrie waved a hand erratically in the air. “Fine. Lots of sugar please.”
Peter pursed his lips but dutifully went to the kitchen for her coffee anyway. When he returned with the steaming mug, she had a hand over her mouth.
“What’s wrong? Did you just realize you agreed to let me spank you harder?” he teased.
Confusion had her brows crinkling together. “What? No. I think I just figured out what this shit is. I won’t be able to tell for sure until I get to work tomorrow, but I think this is a portion of the God damned black budget.”
Thoughts of spanking Carrie’s ass temporarily left him as he set the coffee on the end table.
“Explain.”
Carrie held up a hand indicating he should wait while she swallowed half of the coffee.
“OK. Tom very randomly told me I could take his piece on the black budget. It’s supposed to kind of be the follow up to the piece the Post ran after that big leak with budget documents first happened a few years ago. I didn’t really put a lot of stock into it because budgets are boring, but I did a little research the other day. Some of this is looking familiar and a lot more detailed.” She picked up the coffee cup again.
Peter sat on the arm of the couch. “So, what does the black budget have to do with human trafficking?”
“I can’t say for sure. I’m going to need a few days to sort through all of this, but based on what I’m seeing here, our friend is trying to tell us that a part of the black budget is actually being used to fund a trafficking ring.”
Peter whistled. “That’s some crazy conspiracy shit right there. Do you think there’s any merit to it?”
Carrie shrugged. “It’s so hard to say, but I think considering that I’ve got people trying to kill me there’s at least a thread of truth to it. I just can’t say exactly what it is.”
Going back to the screen in front of her, Carrie grew quiet again. A few minutes later, she closed the laptop and rubbed a hand over her face. “I’m going to need a case of Red Bull and my three-monitor set up at work to decipher this. Wanna have sex?” Her question took him by surprise, and he barked out a laugh before he stood and crossed his arms. “I’ll never turn down sex with you, but I believe I owe you a spanking.”
A blush colored Carrie’s cheeks and ears. “I was hoping you would forget about that,” she whispered.
Peter dropped to one knee in front of her and tilted her chin upward to meet his eyes. “Not a chance, little one. When it comes to your ass and an opportunity to turn it a nice shade of red, you can always bet I’ll have an excellent memory. Come on, to the bedroom with you,” he said, standing and holding out his hand.
He kept his fingers laced with hers all the way to the bedroom where he sat on the edge of his bed and pulled her into his lap.
“Why am I doing this?”
She hid her face against his chest and shook her head.
“Uh uh. Look at me. Now,” he added when she still didn’t lift her head. The steely tone of the last word got her attention and she slowly looked up at him. “Why am I spanking you, Carrie?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Because you want to?”
His shoulders shook as he laughed. “That’s certainly true. I do enjoy it, but you’re just making things worse for yourself. Answer my question.”
After letting out a long sigh, she finally said, “because I stuck out my tongue at you, and apparently because I asked for coffee? I’m still confused about that one.”
“Ah so you did hear me then. That’s more to the point. This is a reminder that as my submissive you should be able to at least marginally keep your focus on me even when you’re working on other things. If you’re sticking your tongue out at me, even if it’s a knee jerk reaction, or if you’re so engrossed in your work that you can’t even acknowledge that I’m clearly trying to get your attention, that means you’ve lost focus. Turning your ass red will hopefully help you regain that focus. Not to mention it will turn us both on, and when I fuck you you’ll be even more centered on me. On us.”
During his lecture, he watched her breathing change and her gaze grow hot. This was arousing to her just as much as it was to him. Not a submissive my ass, he thought, fighting to keep a smirk off his face.
Feeling as though no further lecturing was needed, he nudged her to stand. “Let’s get this over with little one. I’m dying to bury myself in you.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Carrie’s legs shook as she stood in front of Peter waiting for his instructions. It had been years since a Dom had given her a punishment spanking and it had never been this hot.
Peter’s hands settled onto her hips and Carrie inhaled sharply. Here we go. Never breaking eye contact, he rolled her yoga pants and panties over her hips. The cool air from the ceiling fan above them caused her to shiver.
“Not to worry, we’ll have you warmed up soon,” he said in a low voice. “Over my lap.”
Trembling, she stretched across his lap and grabbed the bedspread on the other side of him. “Ready?” he asked. One hand rested on the small of her back, the other brushed her hair away from her face.
“As I’ll ever be.” It came out as a hoarse whisper.
He cupped her ass and gave a gentle squeeze. Then the first smack landed. Hard. Geeze, wasn’t he going to warm her up first? The answer came with a second smack in the same spot just as hard. Before she could process it, two more swats landed on the other cheek and then he was moving back and forth in a quick rhythm. She could feel the heat of her skin warming beneath his hand. Taking a deep breath in through her nose, she exhaled on the next swat and let her eyes drift closed. The pain of the spanking caused a warm arousal to form deep in her belly. Then he was rubbing her ass softly and she let one leg fall off his lap, exposing her even more than she already was. Peter took it as an invitation, and she moaned when his fingers drifted over her folds.
“Enjoying yourself, are you?” One finger brushed over her clit and she choked on her response, so it just came out a gargled moan. “Hmmm. We’ll see how you’re feeling in a few minutes. I promised you a harder spanking. Reach under the bed, you’ll find a small box.”
Sliding forward on his lap, she felt around under the bed until she hit the box he was referring to. Pulling it out, her eyes went wide. Inside the box were several paddles, a ruler, and a hairbrush.
“Pick one,” he ordered. Carrie froze. This was coming perilously close to asking for punishment, but she didn’t want to disappoint him. That thought had her frowning.
“Pick one,” he said again. “If you don’t, I’ll just use all of them.” Hearing the resolve in his tone, she quickly closed her eyes and plunged her hand into the box, pulling out the first thing she touched. It was the ruler.
“Excellent choice,” Peter said, and she felt her heart swelling under the praise. It was short lived though, because he took the ruler from her and was soon peppering her backside with stinging smacks. The ruler had a sharp bite to it and was a different kind of pain than Carrie was used to. She gasped with each smack and tried to prepare herself for the next one, but they were coming at random intervals difficult to predict.
Peter tapped at her inner thigh with the ruler, so she instinctively spread her thighs. “Good girl,” he murmured. The edge of the wooden ruler skimmed across her damp center and she opened further, wanting to feel more of that.
He chuckled, a low rumbling sound that rippled over her. “Not yet. I’m not quite through with this naughty butt yet.”
A strangled groan left her throat and she tried to thrust her hips back hoping to feel the flutter of the ruler across her folds once more. He withdrew his hand and brought the ruler down with a resounding smack against her pussy. She yelped. Before she could react further, he returned to her bottom and began the spanking again. This time each spank felt harder than the one before and they fell in rapid fire succession with no breaks between. Soon her entire ass and even her thighs w
ere on fire. Then he was done. The ruler fell to the floor below her and she stared at it. Mesmerized by the fact that something that tiny could make her feel so much.
“Get the rest of your clothes off,” he said, helping her stand. As she peeled off her shirt and unhooked her bra, he stood and began unbuttoning his own shirt, and she moved to put her hands on his chest. His big hands grasped her small wrists, stopping her just shy of her goal.
“I’m afraid naughty bottoms have to spend time in the corner before they get orgasms.” Her mouth fell open. Was he serious? He wanted her to stand in the corner like a punished child?
“Close your mouth little one. You earned this and you know it.” To her horror, there was a part of her brain agreeing with him. That didn’t mean she had to like it.
He pointed to a corner in his room between the dresser and the wall. “Corner now. And act like you’ve at least seen a submissive get corner time before.”
That meant he wanted her to stand with her hands on the back of her head and her legs spread. Because she already knew what kind of orgasm he could give her, she complied. But as she put her hands on her head she whispered, “Sir?”
“Yes, baby?” His voice sounded as if it was coming from the door.
“Please don’t leave me.” Her voice wavered as she voiced her insecurity.
He was behind her in seconds, his hands resting on her waist. “I was just going to my office for a minute, baby.”
Carrie shook her head. “Please don’t. I’ll stay here like this for as long as you want. Just don’t leave me.”
And so he didn’t. He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck before she heard him settle into the chair on the opposite side of the room.
No more than five minutes had passed before he called her to him. Feeling embarrassed for her minor freak out about him leaving, she kept her eyes on the carpet all the way to where he sat.
“Kneel,” he said.
Dropping to her knees, she kept her gaze fixed on his feet which were now bare. But she knew it wouldn’t be long before he insisted on eye contact.
