by Maren Smith
“Yes, Sir,” she replied, her voice clogged with tears.
I gave her three mild taps to her sit-spot, but she still flew forward on my lap as though I’d burned her. “Are you going to treat me and everyone you meet with respect?”
She hesitated on that one, and her “Yes, Sir,” was reluctant, so I began spanking with renewed vigor until her cries were mixed with sobs.
“Again,” I ordered.
“Yes, Sir,” she wailed.
“What? What will you do, Karen?”
“T-treat every-one with re-respect,” she managed.
“No more tantrums?”
“No more tantrums, Sir,” she agreed readily.
Still, I added another sound smack to each cheek for good measure. “I want to be sure you’ve heard me on this, Karen. I want to be sure you understand how serious I am.”
“I understand, Sir, I swear. Please—please don’t spank me anymore!” she begged.
“I’m not going to spank you,” I replied, reaching for the bottle I’d placed beside me. I popped the top and squirted a little of the clear liquid on to my finger and I took my time slowly rubbing it on to her puckered anus. "Relax," I said, my voice soothing.
“What are you doing?” she whimpered.
“I’m going to help you learn to listen.” I added some more lubricant and continued to massage her backdoor until she loosened up a bit. Then I probed gently, pushing my finger in a bit before I pulled it out. With her head down, Karen moaned and I paused, waiting for her to say the words that would tell me to stop. When she didn’t, I continued, entering her tight hole with my finger and pulling out again.
My eager cock strained against my jeans and I silently hoped she hadn’t noticed. A futile hope, no doubt; I didn’t believe I’d ever had a more pulsing, painful hard-on. “I can’t have you throwing tantrums and not listening to me, understand?”
“I understand, Sir.”
“From now on, when I need to get your attention this is how I’m going to get it.”
Her only protest came in the form of a long moan as I continued to finger her.
“So I suggest you learn to control that temper.” I toyed with her for a minute longer, moving my finger in and out and enjoying it immensely as she squirmed on my lap. I didn’t like using anal for punishment—I much preferred to use it for pleasure—but I found it helped women to focus. Karen didn’t seem to be the exception to the rule, either.
When I removed my finger and began rubbing her red, hot cheeks, I felt her relax over my lap.
“Are you done? Sir?”
I chuckled. “Yes, for now. That was just a taste, Karen. I don’t think you want to experience the real thing, do you?”
“No, Sir,” she shuddered.
“Good. Don’t give me any reason to, okay?” At her fervent nod, I helped her sit up. She winced when her butt landed on my thigh and I couldn’t hide my grin. Every man appreciates a job well done.
“Do you have any more wine, Sir?”
“Sure,” I agreed, moving her gently off my lap. “Be right back.”
When I came back and handed it to her, she looked up at me with a pout. “Is that it?” she asked, eyeing the half-full glass.
“For you, yes. You’ve already had three glasses; I think it’s time you slow down on the alcohol.”
“But I can handle my liquor,” she protested, frowning at me.
I shook my head in amazement. Did she never learn? “Do you want another lesson on listening?”
She blanched at the thought. “No, Sir.”
“Good.” I reached over and plucked the glass from her hands and set it down on the coffee table. “Since you can’t appreciate what I give you, I guess it’s better if you don’t have anything at all.” I could see her eyes beginning to narrow, the protest forming on her lips, but to her credit she only nodded.
“Yes, Sir.”
I sat down beside her, pulling her close. She eagerly cuddled up against me. “I want you to know something. It’s not that I don’t want to be…intimate with you.”
Intimate wasn’t the right word; what I wanted was to rip her dress to shreds and tear them off one by one with my teeth. I wanted to throw her on the floor and take her hard and fast, then take her back to the bedroom, lay her on the bed and take my time devouring every inch of her kissable skin, savoring every sigh.
“Then why?”
Her voice was so soft and submissive that I hugged her tighter to me. “I have a rule that I don’t put out on the first date. And no, I didn’t read it in Cosmo.”
She began to giggle and soon it broke into full-fledge laughter. “Oh…my…”
“It wasn’t that funny,” I scolded lightly.
“It was.”
I promptly brought my hand down on her bottom and she let out a sound somewhere between a giggle and a gasp.
“So, how many dates do you wait? Until, you know…”
Boy, did I. “You’re feeling sassy tonight, aren’t you? Normally it’s three or four. Now that I did read in Cosmo.”
This time she was laughing so hard that I wondered if she was going to choke on her amusement. I loved seeing her so carefree; it was such a different picture than the angry, stressed-out woman I had met that I didn’t even mind that the joke was at my expense.
“Seriously?” she asked, her voice breathy from laughter.
“Seriously.”
“Does that mean we have two to go?”
“Hmm?” I asked, stroking her arm.
“Well, I mean, we had dinner so I just thought…”
I grinned, shaking my head. This woman really was persistent; it wasn’t hard to see why she was such a force to be reckoned with. “How about I surprise you?”
She pretended to pout, but only for a moment. “Have you ever done… this before?”
“What’s that, sweetheart?”
She let out a low, little sigh before she continued. “The spanking.”
“Have I ever spanked another woman, you mean? Sure, I have.”
She shook her head. “How many?”
Uh-oh. Was it just me, or was that the beginnings of jealousy I detected in her voice. “I don’t usually spank and tell, but pretty much every girl I’ve ever dated seriously.”
“How many is that? I mean, are we talking a dozen here? Dozens? I—”
“Karen.” I tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes. “I’m not going to do this with you, okay? And I’m not going to grill you on your love life either. Nothing matters to me right now but you; I want to let the past stay there, all right?”
I thought she might argue, but again she surprised me. “Can I ask you…have you ever, um…”
“Not so fast now,” I joked.
“I just mean…the blindfold, the ah, thing you just did…”
“The anal?” I suggested, chuckling as she avoided my eyes. “Why, if I didn’t know any better I’d swear you were a prude, Karen!”
“I’m not, just—”
“Shh, I was teasing. And to answer your question, I have, but only with two other women. Has anyone you’ve dated—”
“No.”
I nodded, eyeing her thoughtfully. “What do you think?”
She flushed even brighter and I wondered which set of her cheeks was redder. “I like it,” she admitted in a small voice. “I like…letting you take over.”
“I just want to take care of you. I’m never going to do anything to hurt you. Well, I’m not going to hurt you in a way you won’t enjoy,” I amended.
Karen looked at me, seeming spellbound by the promise of the future excitement that awaited us. Her lips were parted so temptingly that I was about to lower my head and kiss her until she let out a huge yawn, stretching her arms over her head and breaking the spell.
“Let’s get you to bed.”
“I’m not tired, Sir,” she protested weakly. It was no use—her eyelids were drooping and I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I swept her up in my arm
s and carried her to my bedroom where I laid her gently on the bed. Her eyes were already closed as I tucked her in, pulling the sheet and blanket tightly around her.
“Goodnight,” I whispered, inhaling the sweet perfume of her body one more time.
“But Brandon—”
I was startled at the rush of emotion that overwhelmed me when she said my name in that soft, little-girl voice that told me in a way that no words could that she needed me. “Go to sleep now. We’ll see each other in the morning.” I leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.
Just before I turned to leave I saw the slightest of smiles cross her face, and my heart turned in my chest. Yes, I was going to have to be very careful with this one.
Chapter 7
When my eyes finally fluttered open, I lazily looked around the room. The sun was already shining through the slits in the blinds and I rolled over to check the bedside clock. It was already 9:30! I sat up straight, feeling the beginnings of panic in my chest. I hadn’t slept past six since leaving college and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was running late for something important or had forgotten to do something.
Right at that moment, the door opened and Brandon came in. “Oh, you’re up. Good. Are you hungry?”
I wasn’t much of a morning person—despite the God-forsaken hours I was forced to slog through, I didn’t normally talk to people. Or, if I did, it wasn’t very nicely. But considering that being nice was one of his rules and that I didn’t want to start the day off with a sore ass, I made a special effort.
“Good morning. I’m not hungry just yet but…” I sniffed the air appreciatively. “Something smells wonderful. I thought you said you couldn’t cook.”
“Did I say that?”
“Well,” I giggled. “I thought it was implied.” When Brandon turned and bent over to retrieve something, I took a moment to take him in. Never before had a man been hotter in real life than in my fantasies, but even my imagination couldn’t create a man this sexy. The more I got to know him, the hotter he became.
At that moment he turned around and I saw he was holding a tray laden down with orange juice, blueberry pancakes, hash browns and bacon. “I’m much better at breakfast,” he said by way of explanation as he set the tray down.
“It’s…so sweet.” I knew the words were inadequate, but Webster had yet to create a word that described the amazement I felt. No man had ever done a tenth for me what Brandon had done in the last forty-eight hours. If this were what it felt like to be loved and cared for, I’d take the damn spankings.
“Can I join you?”
“Where’s yours?” I teased.
Brandon climbed on the bed and sat facing me. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Wonderfully, thank you. The wine probably helped,” I added, sheepish when I remembered how he’d taken my glass from me.
If he was remembering the same thing, he gave no sign of it. “I’m glad. Please, dig in.”
I’d meant what I said—I wasn’t hungry, but I didn’t want him to think I didn’t appreciate him. From the first bite of the fluffy, buttery pancake, I was hooked. My appetite woke up and with it, the rest of my body began to stir to life. Thankfully, he’d brought coffee, so I used that to wash them down. “Hey,” I said, peering at the cup. “What is this?”
“Chocolate cinnamon, remember? Don’t you like it?”
I stared at him for a full minute before I burst out laughing. He really was something else. He was so thoughtful, on top of having a great sense of humor. “I love it. Thank you,” I said, taking another long swallow. “So, is this our second date?”
“Why not?” he asked with a chuckle. “Now eat! I have a long day planned for us and I don’t want you getting tired on me.”
I felt my stomach flip at the prospect of what a “long day” would entail. I was excited to find out, that was for sure.
“Tell me something else about yourself,” he said, catching me off guard.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Something no one else would guess.”
“Hmm, well, there’s this guy. I let him tie me up. I even let him spank me,” I whispered, my voice low and conspiratorial.
“Did you now? What else would you let him do?”
I batted my eyelashes at him demurely. “That depends largely on what’s in it for me.”
“Is that so?” he asked, his voice husky as he moved the tray out of the way.
“That’s just good business,” I replied, suppressing a giggle as he moved toward me. I saw the desire flashing in his eyes and I didn’t protest when he captured my wrists, holding them both in one hand. As he sidled toward me I lay down on the bed. He hovered over me, his jaw set in a way that I found maddeningly sexy. He pressed his lips against mine in a hard, possessive kiss that stole both my breath and my thoughts.
“I want you to behave yourself today and remember what we agreed on.”
“Yes, Sir,” I gasped. Please, more. I begged him with my eyes. He obliged, lowering his mouth to mine. To my surprise, he caught my bottom lip and bit down. It stung a bit but I barely felt the pain through the lust that was overwhelming me. There was no doubt that he looked hot in his navy Polo, but damn it, why was I the only one who was ever undressed? It just wasn’t fair.
All too soon from my point of view, he broke the kiss, but he stayed leaning over me, his eyes warm pools of yearning. “Tell me something about you. Something real.”
“I’m an only child,” I replied, willing and wanting in that moment to tell him anything he wanted to know. I’d talk as long as he wanted to listen. “My parents always had these big dreams for me, but I never lived up to their expectations.”
His brow furrowed. “What do you mean? You’re very successful.”
I laughed, forcing myself to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “Oh, that? My parents don’t care about things like that. They think I’m about ten years too late for the marriage boat and they’ve given up hope for grandchildren.”
He pushed himself up and I watched the muscles ripple in his arms. Mmm, yummy.
“You’re only thirty-six, for God’s sake. There’s still time.”
“Please, save yourself the trouble. You won’t be telling me anything I haven’t already tried. They’re not interested in hearing my excuses.”
“Which means that you work your ass off at a job your parents don’t even appreciate,” he observed.
“Don’t go and get teary-eyed on me now,” I said, striving to keep my tone light. “You asked for something real, so there it is.”
“Thank you for trusting me enough to share it with me. “
“Thank you for asking.”
Then he lowered his mouth to taste mine again and I eagerly parted my lips. I didn’t know if it was a pity kiss or not, but it was so heart-stoppingly tender that I didn’t care.
***
Sadly, the kiss didn’t lead anywhere more exciting, and somehow I found myself outside in Brandon’s considerable back yard, staring at the thick trunk of a pine tree. He let me stare at it without comment and I took my time, trying to figure out what was expected of me. I kept drawing a blank, so finally I turned toward him. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do, Sir.”
He smiled warmly at me and my cheeks flushed with pleasure. “Raise your arms for me, sweetheart.”
Every time he called me “sweetheart” I felt something warm and sweet unfurl inside me. I raised my hands over my head, my wrists touching, and waited. My breath hitched as he moved toward me and I watched with surprise as he pulled a long, pink and purple flowered scarf out of his pocket. When had he put that in there? And secondly, whose was it?
I didn’t ask questions, just stayed as still as I could as he twisted the scarf around my wrists. To my surprise, he looped it around a tree branch before tying it off. A quick assessment told me that I could slip my wrists out of the scarf if I really wanted to. I liked that he did that—it made me feel more relaxed, even thou
gh I knew one of the reasons he did it was so that I could choose whether or not to submit.
“I’m going to take those shorts off now,” he told me, leaning forward to tickle my ear with his whisper. “I know you’re relieved.”
I squelched a giggle. When he had told me that he’d planned for us to come outside, he insisted that I wear a pair of his shorts and one of his T-shirts while he put my dress in the washing machine. I’d balked at the idea, not at all happy at the prospect of wearing men’s clothing. Not that it offended my feminine sensibilities, I just didn’t want his clothes hiding the few assets I had.
Needless to say, it was a battle I lost, though I didn’t really try too hard. At this moment, I was glad I hadn’t; it gave him a reason to touch me, even if I had a good idea of what would follow once the shorts were off. When I felt his hand slip around my waist, the press of his fingers at the button made my stomach churn with a strange mixture of excitement and apprehension. I decided just to enjoy the feel of his hands on me and I closed my eyes to savor the sensation as he slowly pulled the zipper down.
As soon as he let go, the shorts fell in a puddle at my feet. One hand reached up to cradle my left breast while he kissed my neck, his warm breath on my skin making delicious shivers travel throughout my body. He pinched my nipple between his fingers, pulling on it and making me moan. “You are going to be my good girl today, aren’t you, Karen?”
“Yes, Sir.” I had to summon super-human willpower that I didn’t even know I had to keep my knees from buckling when his hand switched to my left breast.
“You know what happens to bad girls, don’t you?”
“Mmm.”
“Bad girls who drink too much wine and lose their panties?”
If another man’s voice had ever sounded so deliciously soft, I couldn’t remember when. Nor could I recall feeling so much warm wetness between my legs that I worried he might see it. “Yes, Sir.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
“They get spanked, Sir.”
“They do,” he agreed, releasing my breast and making me cry out at the loss of his touch. “I think you need a reminder.”