by Dinah McLeod
I swallowed, suddenly realizing how dry and parched my throat was. “Brandon, please.”
The gaze he leveled on me made me shrink back. “I’ve asked you to be quiet. Since you can’t do that, go stand in the corner.”
Maybe it was because I’d just come from work where I called the shots and no one talked over me, but something in me refused to submit. Instead, I stood up, put my hands on my hips and glared right back at him.
“Is that how you want to play it, little girl?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “Fine, have it your way.” In one stride he covered the distance between us, his large hands reaching out to encircle my wrists.
“Stop!” I demanded, stamping my foot. “Just—”
“Who calls the shots here, Karen?”
I clenched my teeth, just in case my tongue wanted to betray me. I tried to jerk my wrists back, but he had no problem keeping a hold on me and dragging me to the couch. The minute I landed facedown over his knees, I let out a frustrated scream. “You’re not listening to me! Let me up!” I began to fight tooth and nail to get off his lap but it was like a fly trying to get out of a spider web. I was powerless to do anything but stay where he wanted me.
“First, you’re going to listen to me. After you’ve been punished and had some time to think about what you did wrong, then you can have your turn.”
“That’s not fair!” I exclaimed, scissoring my legs. When Brandon threw his leg over mine, trapping me once and for all, I retaliated by slapping his leg as hard as I could.
He never said a word, but the feel of his heavy hand on my tender rear said it all. The strength of the first spanks surprised me with their ferocious, fiery sting. From the get-go, he meant business. I could feel it in the message he was trying to hand-deliver to my bottom.
Still, I never stopped struggling to free myself from his iron grip. “Let me up!” I demanded in between spanks. “I want to leave!”
“Do you?” he asked, not even pausing in the punishment he was administering.
“Yes!” I squealed after the next scorcher. “I want to leave! You can’t keep me here!”
“If you want to leave, all you have to do is say so.”
“I just did!” I snapped—which, as it turned out wasn’t a very smart thing to do as it only made him step up the swats.
“I’m waiting. You know what you have to say.”
It was on the tip of my tongue and I opened my mouth and almost uttered the words that would bring this to a crashing halt—almost. I couldn’t say exactly what stopped me except the thought that to stop the punishment meant an end to us. Not that I was thinking very fondly of him at the moment.
“You have got to start treating people better!” he scolded, bouncing his hand from one cheek to the other. “You have to learn to manage—Smack—your temper!” Smack, smack.
The swats were coming so fast together now that I couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. Brandon wasn’t deterred by it in the least and was still spanking me without any sign of slowing as I sobbed.
“You will figure out how to make this right and you will remember your promises in the future. Understood?”
“I know you’re upset with me, but if you just—”
“Still giving me lip?” His disappointment cut through me, even more than the words he uttered next: “I guess you need a reminder to listen, too.”
My stomach clenched at the thought. “No-ooo,” I protested, my tears coming faster. “I don’t. P-please.”
“You should have thought about that earlier. You have control over everything that happens to you, Karen. You’re the one who chooses to make bad decisions knowing the consequences.” He reached over and sure enough I saw the clear bottle of lubricant in his hand. Had he taken to keeping it on the coffee table? Why hadn’t I noticed it earlier? But I knew why—I’d been much too distracted with trying to save my ass from a spanking, for all the good it had done me.
“I’ll be good,” I tried one more time, but Brandon acted as though I hadn’t even spoken. In no time he was lifting the skirt of my dress and pulling my panties down—the ones I’d run out to Macy's to buy the night before. I hadn’t even realized until that moment that he’d been spanking me over my clothes. How was it possible that his hand hurt so freaking much?
My thoughts were instantly diverted by the feel of the lubricant sliding over my anus. The only protest I made was in the form of the whimper that escaped my lips, not that it stopped his finger from invading the tight space.
“Are you listening now?” he asked, plunging in and out.
I groaned at the discomfort. “Yes,” I said, once again reduced to sounding like a little girl.
“Good.” His tone was hard and he moved his finger faster, making my eyes well up with brand new tokens of remorse. “I want you to treat people better, Karen. No one deserves to be talked down to like that, understand?”
“I understand, Sir,” I insisted, mewling at the full sensation I was feeling.
“You will keep your promises.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He didn’t lecture me further, but he continued to finger my ass for a few more minutes until I was limp over his lap, submitting myself to whatever punishment he deemed necessary. “You can sit up, but I don’t want you to pull your panties up.”
Still sniffling, I watched as he left the room. While he was gone I thought about what he’d said. He was right, of course, though I wasn’t bursting to share the realization at present. My ass hurt too much for me not to sulk a bit.
When he came back into the room the first thing that I noticed was that the hard look of disapproval had left his eyes. I was about the exhale the breath I’d been holding until I noticed the second thing—that he was carrying something small and black in his hand and I didn’t have a clue what it was.
Brandon sat down beside me and pulled me over his lap. “The next time I hear of you yelling at someone like that at work, you’re going to go back to the office with a little reminder to control your temper.”
“Please, don’t,” I gasped.
“But for now,” he continued as though I hadn’t spoken, “I think a few minutes will do it.” Knowing that trying to talk him out of whatever he planned was a waste of breath and energy, I forced myself to lie still as he flipped my skirt up again. The cool air kissed what was sure to be a red bottom, making my sore skin prickle with goose bumps.
I tried to lie still and take my punishment, I really did, but I was crying again as soon as he spread my cheeks. By the time he was sliding something in my bottom, working it in slowly by pushing and pulling to gain access, I was sobbing again. Not so much from the pain, though there was some of that, as from the realization that I’d done this to myself, just like he said. What if he decided I was too much trouble? I worried. Who could blame him?
When Brandon helped me off his lap he bent forward and kissed me chastely on the forehead. “How do you feel?”
“Uncomfortable,” I admitted, staring at my feet.
“That’s how it’s supposed to feel, unfortunately for you. Now come have some lunch.” His voice had returned to its normal relaxed tone, but my fears made me feel out of place. “Eat,” he encouraged, but I just stared at the table he’d set with sandwiches and bags of chips, rocking on the balls of my feet. “You need to sit down.”
“Oh, thank you, but I—” The look that Brandon wore told me that I better get my butt in the chair, and fast. I complied fast enough, but I winced as my full backdoor hit the hard wood.
“How is work going?” Brandon asked as he took a sip of his bottled water, deliberately pretending that everything was normal.
I was glad someone could. Then again, he wasn’t the one wearing one of these… whatever they were. “We’re having some… technical difficulties currently.” I didn’t want to think about work right now—not that I could with what was going on down below.
“You’ll get through it, especially if you have a better attitude.”
“I will,” I told him meekly. “I promise.”
He could have said a hundred things: he could have pointed out that I’d promised before, or said “we’ll see” or lectured me some more. Brandon didn’t do any of those things, just simply reached across the table and took my hand. It was at that moment that I knew for sure that I was in love.
***
True to his word, right before we left the house Brandon had removed the awful torture device. He’d told me that it was technically called a “butt plug” but my assessment was much more accurate so I was standing by it. Even though I knew it was gone, I still felt its hard, penetrating presence and it reminded me to be on my best behavior for the rest of the day—which was exactly what Brandon had intended.
I’d called Jack in to apologize, and though it was hard, somehow I got through it. If the words sounded a bit stiff, well, it was the first apology I’d ever given any employee that wasn’t along the lines of, “I’m sorry, kiss my ass”.
If he’d looked stunned after I told him I was sorry, the look on his face when I’d offered him the rest of the day off was priceless. To his credit, he didn’t take it, insisting we were too busy for him to leave. I had to admit, that bit of dedication impressed me and made me look at him a bit differently. Not much differently, but it was a start.
Givens had returned my call while I had been out on lunch, and when I called back and got him on the line, I talked calmly about our position. I reminded him that we had more share holders and more money, that we would buy his company eventually and could have taken it right out from under him.
“It’s going to happen sooner or later,” I said. “Make this easier on your employees and yourself. If you agree to a merger, you will save us all a lot of time, money and unneeded headaches.”
No matter what I said, Givens had a rebuttal ready and didn’t seem the least bit worried about what I was saying. Normally, such a thing would have unnerved me to the point of sheer panic, but the spanking I’d just gotten took away some of the urgency from this situation.
Before we hung up, he even asked me if I was okay! Honestly.
Brandon laughed about it later that night over dinner. “He didn’t know what to think about the new, calmer Karen?”
“No one does,” I admitted, eating a forkful of green beans. “I kept getting weird looks all day.”
“They’ll get used to it in time. And I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”
That right there, the love in his eyes and his sexy voice calling me sweetheart, that was all I needed. Never mind everyone else and their stares. I’d endured much worse throughout the years.
Still, they were more persistent than ever the next day. It seemed like I couldn’t go anywhere without someone looking at me like I’d grown an extra head. I smiled at each and every gawker and managed a polite “Hi” but it was starting to get annoying.
“Whoa, there, Karen.”
I’d been so lost in thought that I’d almost bumped straight into my mentor, Mr. Boyles. “Oh, hi! Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
“Are you all right, dear?”
There was no mistaking it; he was looking at me like I’d spouted tentacles or something. “Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”
“You haven’t heard? How could you not know?”
“Know what?” I asked, feeling my smile slip.
“Karen, the merger with SunFilm…it’s been overturned. It’s not going to happen.”
“What?” What was he saying? How was that possible? It wasn’t, I knew it wasn’t. I’d gone over all those details myself, crossed every t… I could hardly concentrate on what he was saying although I tried desperately to understand.
“…their lawyers found a loophole… section eight… giving them the option to buy back…”
It wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t possible that what I’d been working toward for the past eighteen months had been flushed down the toilet just like that and no one had bothered to tell me. This couldn’t be happening.
“People had to have been calling you, surely. The lawyers must have tried to get in touch last night when all this—”
“I don’t have a phone.” The words came out a croak. “My assistant…” Words failed me. What could I say that would make one bit of difference? “Thank you for telling me.”
“Karen, maybe you should sit down, you look—”
“No, no.” I waved off the hand he put on my arm. “I’m fine.”
But I wasn’t. How could I be? My dreams had gone up in smoke before I was even aware there was a fire. I’d spent countless hours, long nights and bi-monthly meetings going over and over this merger. This was going to set our company for life. This was going to make it possible for me to retire and find something that I actually wanted to do. This had been my ticket and now it was nothing more than a pile of shredded documents littering the bottom of a trashcan.
I locked myself in my office, asking Jack to hold all my calls. I knew there would be a ton of them rolling in. First, probably Givens who would want to gloat. Then the reporters. My parents. It was too much; my head was spinning just thinking about it.
My stomach roiled and I ran to the bathroom where I deposited the blueberry muffin and green tea I’d had for breakfast. When there was nothing else left, I lay my head against the cool porcelain bowl as tears ran down my cheeks. I wanted to stay in this room forever, curl up into a ball and die.
***
The only thing that got me up off that floor was the realization that I was not the only one to blame. In fact, if the blame lay anywhere, it was with the man who insisted that I go out of my way to be someone I wasn’t.
When Brandon opened the door, answering my loud, persistent rapping, I walked right past him into the house. “Karen. I didn’t know you were coming over.”
“Are you busy?”
“No-o.” He drew the word out, watching me warily. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not. I’m not okay, but I’ve been fucking polite, so that’s all that matters right?”
“Excuse me?”
“My merger fell through!” I practically shouted. God, it felt so good to scream. “Everything is ruined and it’s your fault!”
“My fault?”
“You’re the one who told me to be nice! You’re the one who wouldn’t just let me be me! You—”
“Slow down, let’s talk about this.”
I balled my hands into fists at my sides, nearly spitting as I snarled, “I don’t want to slow down! That’s what got me into this mess in the first place!”
“I don’t understand, you never mentioned—”
“Oh, that’s the best part!” I crowed. “I, the fucking-CEO, was the last to know! Because what have I been doing? I’ve been so busy with you that I didn’t bother getting a new cell phone.”
“I’m to blame for that too, I suppose?”
I narrowed my eyes into slits as I took in his calm demeanor. How dare he be so unruffled when I was dying over here! “I’m not going to see you anymore. I was crazy to think that a man who didn’t even let me be myself—”
“I love you for who you are, Karen. I only ever tried to help—”
“Ha!” I snorted. “Thanks, but no thanks. I can do without your kind of help.”
“That’s it!” he snapped, the cool mask slipping a notch. “I am not going to sit here and listen to you go on like this.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re standing,” I pointed out. It was exactly the wrong thing to say, but by that point I didn’t give a damn. When Brandon reached for my arm, I danced out of range and turned for the door. He caught up with me and placed his hand over the knob, brushing his fingers over mine. I snatched my hand back as though his touch had burned me.
“You’re not going anywhere until we talk about this.”
“I am through with talking! I don’t have anything left to say! I—”
“Well, good, because I have a few things I want to tell you.” With that, he p
ulled me to him, but I reached out and pushed his chest, trying to get away. I might as well have been shoving a bear—he didn’t move one inch. “Are you going to come willingly, or—”
I reached for the doorknob again, but at that moment he put his arms around my waist and hoisted me over his shoulder. “Put me down!” I shrieked, kicking my legs. “Let me go!” I balled my hands into fists, beating them on his back. The less responsive he was, the more frantic I became. I twisted and turned to no avail—none of it stopped him from putting me over his lap once we got to the couch.
“What did I tell you was going to happen the next time you didn’t listen?”
“Don’t touch me!” I hollered. “Don’t you dare!”
Smack. His hand came down on my upturned bottom so hard that for a moment I was stunned. Smack! The sound reverberated through the room like a gunshot.
“Stop it, Brandon, I—”
But he didn’t stop. He kept spanking me, his hand rising and falling tirelessly. I kicked and wriggled until I was panting and breathless from the effort. I was nearly spent, until I felt his hand snake to the front of my pants. There was only one thing I could do to stop this.
“Saint Bernard!” I cried out at the top of my lungs. “Saint Bernard!”
Instantly, he dropped his hand and helped me up. I didn’t even wait to regain my composure before I stood and marched toward the door. When I got there and reached for the doorknob, I turned to look at him. He was watching me, but he hadn’t moved from his place on the couch. I wanted to say something, but what? What could I say to excuse my shrewish behavior from mere seconds ago? What could I do to make him understand how confused I was?
It doesn’t matter, I told myself firmly. Just go. It’s over now anyway. I turned the knob and let myself out, hurrying to my car before I could change my mind.
Chapter 9
Brandon
I was in so much shock that I just watched as Karen walked out of the house, slamming the door behind her. Not three minutes later, I realized the gravity of my mistake, but by the time I’d run to the door she had already peeled out of the driveway. I could swear that she’d left a trail of smoke in her wake.