by Sadie Haller
“Look at you, all ready and waiting for me to have my wicked way with you. I’m very proud of you for obeying me. I know that had to be hard for you. I want to reward you for that. But I can’t until we take care of the matter of your punishment. Why are you being punished?”
I can’t keep the grin off my face. “Because I was too enthusiastic about cleaning your cock and I made you hard, which meant you had to punish me, and that made you run late.”
“That’s correct, bad girl. And I’m not going to go easy on you because I have all night, and I don’t have to work tomorrow.”
I hear the jangle and whisper of his belt sliding through the belt loops and I try not to squirm.
“Do you need me to restrain you, or can you hold your position?”
Decisions, decision. Restraints would be easier, but then I’d have to wait longer. “I can hold still.”
The first blow comes across my upper thighs. It’s hard, and I groan. The next comes just a little higher up. I’m determined to hold still. Because I said I would, and I don’t want him to stop. Not yet. I need this more than I can explain, or even understand.
By the time he’s done, I’m feeling a little floaty, and I’ve lost count of the hits. It doesn’t matter. I’m pretty sure my whole ass is fire-engine red. It’s sure as fuck on fire.
“Are you ready for the rest of your punishment, bad girl?”
“Yes.”
I feel lube trickle down the crack of my ass and I’m so close to the moment I’ve been waiting for all day.
“I’m not going to be as gentle with you as I was this morning. You’ve already got some endorphins flowing, and I know you can take more. You have a safeword. Use it if you need it.”
His cock pushes against the tight ring of muscle, and this time, I’m ready. I relax and push back against the pressure.
“I should punish you for not holding position, but you were so good during your strapping, I can let this slide.”
I push back harder and gasp when the head of his cock pops in.
“Stay still, let your body catch up,” Heath says as he reaches around and plays with my clit, occasionally sliding a finger inside my pussy.
Fuck, just a little more with the fingers and I’m totally going to come. I’ve been on edge all fucking day.
“We’ve discussed this. You don’t get to come today.”
I let out a long moan. “Heath, please. I’ve been so good all day.”
“But not coming is part of your punishment. What kind of Dom would I be if I back off a punishment because you were good at taking your punishment?”
“Benevolent? Merciful?”
“Today will be over soon. I promise.”
He starts with the fingers again as he presses into me. I’m so close, and then he takes away his fingers and stops moving.
“I told you it’s going to be a long night, bad girl. And I’m going to keep bringing you to the edge.”
I can feel his cock throbbing in my ass, and like one of those cartoons, the lightbulb goes off above my head. “You must be getting close. Maybe you should come now, so you’ll be able to last in order to keep me on edge all night.”
He chuckles, and I can feel that through his cock in my ass, too. “Nice try, bad girl. I can tell you’re close enough that pretty much anything I do enthusiastically enough will set you off. If I feel the need to get a little too enthusiastic, I’ll pull out and jerk off all over your back.”
“Please, Heath.” I’ve never wanted to come so much in my life, let alone with a cock up my belt-reddened ass. I’ve certainly never been reduced to begging before.
“I do like a little begging—it can be hot, but this is heading in the direction of whining. Do you really want to find out what whining will get you?”
“No.”
“Good answer.” He starts moving inside me again, but this time, plays with my nipples instead of my pussy. It feels good, but it’s not intense enough to do more than send little zings to my clit. I want more. So much more.
He lets go of my breasts and grabs my hips before ramming his cock hard into me over and over. “Is this what you were looking for, bad girl?” he asks.
It is, and it isn’t. I need more. My pussy feels empty and my clit is desperate for attention.
“No? Sometimes what we want isn’t what we need.”
He slows his pace and spanks my pussy with the flat of his fingers. He takes me right to the edge again, and again, but I refuse to beg in case it comes off like whining.
“Being such a good girl for me. Oh, would you look at the time.”
He goes back to slapping my pussy as he pounds into my ass.
My brain short-circuits and my entire body spasms until I’m nothing more than a boneless puddle on the mattress.
Heath pulls out and helps me lay down on the bed. “I’ll be right back, precious.”
Moments later, Heath’s cleaning me up with a warm cloth. Then he pulls me into his lap. “I know you’re tired, but I need you to drink some water.
“Alright baby, let’s get you into bed. You’ve had a hard night.”
He lifts me up and places me in bed under the covers. I’m vaguely aware of him sliding into bed and cuddling up behind me.
“So precious, Georgia. Thank you for trusting me. I know it was hard, but I hope I made it worth your while.”
36
Heath
“Hi Mom, what’s up?”
“I’ve got Georgia’s photo. I’d like you both to come to dinner tonight so I can give it to her.”
“Thanks for getting that done. Have you talked to Georgia about dinner plans?”
“No, I thought I’d talk to you first.”
Good. If Mom asks Georgia, she will decline, and to be fair, we had an agreement that she would. But as far as I’m concerned, the situation has changed. “I’ll take care of it. What time?”
“The usual. Six, eat at six-thirty.”
“We’ll be there.”
“Wonderful. I’ll see you then.”
Ending the call, I toss the phone onto my desk and contemplate what I just got myself into and how best to handle it.
In the end, I decide to go home a little late and spring it on her. If there’s one thing I’m learning about Georgia Black: give her time to think, she’ll bolt.
37
Georgia
“Shoes and coat. My mom is expecting us for dinner in half an hour,” Heath says as he walks through the door the next night.
“Enjoy yourself. Feel free to make whatever excuses for my absence that tickles your fancy.”
“My mom wants you there. She was very clear that I am not to show up without you.”
“You know as well as I do that my father and me in the same space is a fucking disaster.”
“It’ll be fine. Trust me.”
“I’ve been dealing with my father’s disapproval since I was four years old. It won’t be fine, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise. I’ve had a shit enough week, so there is no way I’m going to top it off by subjecting myself to his brand of criticism.”
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Those are the only choices you get, because we are doing this.”
“Let’s see what you’ve got for the hard way, because there’s no fucking way you’re going to get me there without working for it.”
“As you like.”
The next thing I know, he’s got me over his shoulder and we’re cruising through his apartment. And this whole caveman routine of his is making me feel inappropriate things in even more inappropriate places.
We stop in the living room and he offloads me so I’m leaning over the back of the sofa with one of his hands pressing on the back of my neck, forcing me to stay put.
“I’m not sure I’m sorry you decided to be uncooperative tonight. At least you dressed for the occasion.”
Using his other hand, he flips my skirt up over my hips, then yanks my panties down to my
mid-thigh.
“Your orneriness is going to make us late to dinner, and if we’re going to be late, I’m going to make sure I enjoy the reason.”
“Asshole.”
“No, just mostly asshole, and to prove it, I’ll let you have a little warm up before I belt the contrary out of your ass.”
“Bring it on.”
The words are barely out of my mouth when he hits my ass and thighs in a stinging series of slaps that make me embarrassingly horny, and I try not to squirm and draw attention to the situation.
When he stops, he rubs his hand over my skin.
“Georgia…? Did that spanking make you wet?” His hand slides down to my thigh.
“No.”
“You really won’t like what happens if you lie to me. So, I’ll ask again, Did that spanking make you wet?”
He slips a finger between my legs. “Answer me, or I will take your silence as a lie.”
“Yes,” I squeak.
“Good girl.” His hand comes off my neck and his belt buckle jangles. I squirm and my pussy clenches in anticipation of his cock filling me.
Instead his hand returns to my neck and line after line of fire lands on my ass.
When it finally stops, Heath folds his body over mine, grinding against my burning skin as he reaches around and slides a finger through my folds.
“Trust me when I tell you we’re going to be revisiting this whole business as soon as we get back.” He stands up and gives my ass another hard slap. “You’ve got five minutes to get yourself ready to walk out the door, or I can promise you, what comes will not make you wet and needy.”
By the time we pull up in front of my father’s house, my arousal has been completely replaced by dread. I wasn’t making excuses earlier, I absolutely can’t handle a confrontation with him.
When Heath kills the engine, he turns to me and takes my hand. “It will be okay. I promise.”
I think he’s full of shit. “Just don’t leave me alone with him. Not even for a second. Promise?”
“Promise,” He says, patting my hand.
Frances has the door open by the time we make it up the front stairs.
Heath gives his mom a big hug. “Sorry we’re late.”
I cut in before he has a chance to explain. “Actually, it’s my fault,” I say, avoiding Heath’s gaze. “I took too long to get ready. Sorry.” Not a lie. Not really. Just not the whole truth. Not that it matters anyway. My father will one-hundred-percent blame me.
“Good heavens, it’s only a few minutes. Nothing to be concerned about,” Frances says as she pulls me in for a hug. I hug her back and let myself feel good until tears threaten. I pull away and wait for Frances to usher us inside.
She takes my coat, and I find it really weird having a virtual stranger hang it in the hall closet of my childhood home.
“Heath, my boy, how are you?” my father booms as we enter the living room.
And there it is. The penis factor.
“Great, thanks. And you?”
I’m not sure what I find worse, my father berating me or actively ignoring me.
Before my father answers, Frances places a hand on my shoulder. “Georgia, can I get a hand in the kitchen?”
Feminist me is highly irritated at being the one who’s tapped to help with the domestic chores, but four-year-old-Georgia wants some mother time—even if it’s someone else’s mother.
“Sure.”
When we get to the kitchen, Frances pulls me in for another hug. “Sweetie, I didn’t bring you in here to help. I just wanted to give you something, and I thought you might appreciate not having an audience.”
She lets me go, pulls a wrapped package from a drawer in the island, and hands it to me.
I don’t know how to react. I really can’t remember the last time I had a present to unwrap.
At least I remember my manners. “Thank you.”
“If you’d rather open it by yourself later, I understand.”
Somehow, I know that’s totally the wrong thing to do, even though it’s exactly what my mind is screaming for.
“No, I’d like to open it now,” I say. The paper is a gorgeous turquoise and purple paisley that looks handmade. It would be a shame to rip it, so I start carefully picking at the tape with my fingernail.
Moments later, I’m looking at a silver frame holding a copy of the photo of my mom and me.
I’m so overwhelmed, I flee to the powder room off the kitchen and let the tears flow as I clutch the photo tight against my chest.
Seconds later, there’s a quiet knock on the door. “Georgia, can I please come in?”
I unlock the door and open it slowly. Frances pulls me into her arms and just lets me cry.
“You let it all out, sweetheart. I know you’ve been holding back some pretty big feelings for a long time. I’m never going to replace your mother, and I’m not going to try. But I promise you, I’ll be here for whatever you need.”
“How did you know?” I ask.
“Heath found the pieces the night of the break-in. I saw the photo he’d put together with the pieces he’d found.”
“How did you find it?”
Frances smiled wide. “I had a little chat with your dad, and we searched all the photo albums until we found it. And with the magic of technology, I hope we’ve at least managed to give you back a little something you lost.”
“I am so touched, and I really don’t know how to thank you.”
“Honey, you already did. Now splash a little cold water on your face, and I’ll distract Heath and your dad for a few minutes while you compose yourself. Okay?”
I lean in and give Frances a hug. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch.”
“Enough. I understand better than you might think. Give me your photo, and I’ll put it with your coat ready for you to take home later.”
I hand her the frame, take a few minutes to put myself together, and then return to the kitchen.
Frances beams at me. “Perfect timing. Go sit down, and I’ll be in momentarily with the food.”
When I enter the dining room, my father is in his customary position at the head of the table, but I’m a little perplexed to see Heath in what had been my mom’s seat. I stand awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of where to sit, and not wanting to draw the attention, or more likely the ire, of my father.
Heath catches my eye and nods toward the chair to his right. I edge around the room and gingerly take my place at the table. The pain from my earlier belting is only mildly comforted by the familiarity of my childhood seat.
“Frances told me you had a break-in at your apartment.”
Oh fuck, he’s talking to me. How am I supposed to respond without setting him off?
“She did, but the police are investigating, and I’ve been helping Georgia get things sorted out. Nothing to worry about,” Heath interjects.
What the fuck was that? The cops are doing sweet fuck all, and Heath isn’t just helping, he’s doing everything. The only truth that came out of his mouth was the nothing to worry about part.
“As long as there’s nothing untoward that can come back on the family—“
“Georgia has done nothing wrong. And I’m working on improving the security of her building.”
“That’s very considerate of you, my boy.”
If it weren’t for how sweet Frances has been to me tonight, I’d be up and out of here so fucking fast.
“I haven’t done anything extraordinary. The important thing is Georgia is safe and unscathed.”
“Dinner is served,” Frances calls as she enters the dining room carrying a big bowl of mashed potatoes and a plate of sliced roast beef.
I hadn’t realized Frances had made a full-on roast dinner, and there was no way she should be doing all this herself. I want to glare at Heath and make him go help, but that would give my father an opening to be a dick, so I jump up from my seat and follow Frances into the kitchen.
“Let me help bring the food th
rough.”
“There’s no need.”
“I know, but let me help anyway. We’ll all get to eat sooner.”
She grins and hands me the gravy boat and a bowl filled with peas and baby carrots.
38
Heath
“Georgia, when are you going to grow up and do something useful with your life? Get a degree and a job?” George asks almost the minute Georgia returns to her seat.
“I have a degree.”
“Oh, please. You got some bullshit degree that may as well have come from a Cracker Jack box for all the use it will do you. You should have done business or economics—a field where there’s a future.”
“It’s a masters in sociology from Cornell. I graduated with honors.”
Wait, he didn’t know? My mom smiles at Georgia, but I don’t think she sees it. All her focus is on her dad.
George waves his hand dismissively. “Standards must have gone downhill at Cornell if it’s giving out touchy-feely hippy degrees. Not worth the paper it’s printed on in the real world. That trust fund isn’t going to last forever, my girl. Especially not when you fritter it away on thousand-dollar bottles of champagne and a wasted Ivy League education.”
Wait, he didn’t know about this? How can he be so scornful of such an accomplishment?
“George, that’s enough. We’re supposed to be having a nice family dinner.” my mom gives him a hard look. One I’ve been on the receiving end of a time or two. George wisely says nothing more. “Heath, how’re things shaping up for Toronto?”
“It looks promising. I expect to be making a trip there in the near future to look at potential sites.”
We finish the rest of the meal in relative peace, but Georgia is wound up tight. As soon as we finish dessert, I mention I have an early breakfast meeting and we say our goodbyes.
Georgia gets a perfunctory kiss on the cheek from her dad, but my mom pulls her in for a big hug. “We should get together to go shopping or do lunch soon.”