My Russian Master (Service & Submission Book 3)

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My Russian Master (Service & Submission Book 3) Page 11

by Michaels, Megan


  Caroline watched as the camera focused on her office door opening, her desk coming into view. Then the camera went black.

  At first, she didn’t even want to make eye contact with these strong, spanking men, but knew she had no choice. She looked at Maxim, his chocolate eyes seeming even darker, his nostrils flared, his baleful gaze boring into her.

  “Wow.” Jason whistled shaking his head. “I think you’ll be sitting tenderly tomorrow too, Caroline. I knew you had that in you, but I’ve never witnessed it myself.” His jaw clenched, his hand twitching on the counter. “And you’re lucky I didn’t see that spectacle this morning. I think I might have paddled you on the spot. I love Sammi. She did not deserve that. At all.”

  “Oh, Caroleena will be sorry girl, Jason. Trust me.” Maxim paused, and she found herself unable to stand still, shuffling her feet nervously. “I called Sammi after I witnessed your cruelty in this video.”

  Oh, God! This won’t be good.

  Maxim took a deep breath. “She was crying, Caroleena Leigh! I mean, out of breath, gasping for air, sobbing because she was running to get cup of coffee for you! The woman who made fun of her, made fun of how she looked as a child. You humiliated her! That poor little zaychik, hiccupping from crying so hard.”

  He reached over, grasping her chin in his fingers so hard that she uttered a pained groan. She swallowed the pain down though, seeing those eyes now as dark as coal. “Keep your eyes on me when I lecture. Do not drop them again — or there will be consequences.”

  She nodded, her eyes welling with tears. She hadn’t wanted tonight to go this way. They were supposed to play and have fun. She should be feeling the stubble of his face on her pussy. She’d even worn fancy panties for him. It was their first official day as a couple — and she was about to spend it getting her ass paddled.

  “I talked to her for twenty minutes on the phone, calming her down. What you said and did to her was cruel and mean-spirited. I know that is not who you are. You are nice woman, who is sensitive — but obviously you can be mean. I plan on driving that out of you. You will be spanked and whipped until you learn how to curb that tongue.”

  “I’m sorry. I felt bad after it happened.”

  “Did you, Caroleena?”

  She nodded at him, swiping at the tears now tracking down her cheeks.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Because I did not see you say sorry to her at any point today. You did not say ‘I was wrong, forgive me’. Do you not know this thing called apology?”

  Jason laughed, but quickly stifled it, running a hand over his face to wipe away his smile. “Caroline has never apologized once as long I’ve known her.”

  She shot a glare at him. She didn’t need her driver making this any worse.

  Jason leaned forward, invading her space. “Don’t look at me that way, girl. Now that I know the arrangement you two have, I won’t be as lenient as I have been. Next time, I’ll call Maxim immediately.”

  “Thank you, Jason. You are good man.” Maxim wagged a finger at her. “Caroleena is going to learn — fast.”

  “I’m sure she will.” Jason patted the counter, then shook Maxim’s hand. “We both have chores tonight. I’ll get home to mine, and you carry on with yours, my friend.”

  “Yes. Good luck to you.” He pointed his finger at Caroline. “Clothes off. I want you in your panties and bra.”

  Caroline stalled, waiting until her driver had left the room. She wasn’t about to let Jason see her standing half-naked.

  “Caroline! I do not give orders to be ignored.” He reached into her blouse, finding her nipple in her bra, pinching hard. She gasped, grabbing her breast, only to have her hands yanked away.

  “Nyet! Undress!”

  She quickly he unbuttoned her silk top, sliding it off her shoulders only after she heard the door close behind Jason. She then unzipped the skirt, letting it glide down her legs to the floor. She stood in her purple panties and bra, crossing her arms in front of her.

  “Arms at your sides.” Maxim stood from his barstool, circling her, slapping her buttocks so hard, she was forced up onto her toes.

  “Ow!” Her cheeks flushed when he stood directly in front of her, his thumbs hooked into his belt. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to avoid his stare.

  “Look at me!” Her gaze met his, Maxim’s eyes darker than ever now.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It is not me that you apologize to. But, yes, you will be sorry.”

  His finger traced the front of her panties. “These are very pretty. Are these for me?”

  “Yes, Sir. I… thought you might like them.”

  “I do. I like them very much.” He tugged on the zipper clasp, his eyes widening as he discovered that the little zipper was functional. She widened her stance, giving him space to unzip it completely, rendering her panties crotchless. The bulge in his pants confirmed his enjoyment of what she’d worn for him.

  “Oh, Lena, these are very nice.” He eased his finger between the lips of her sex. “Wet. You may be a little afraid, but your body loves this.” He rubbed her clit, circling and stroking, her scent reaching her nostrils.

  She braced herself with her hands on his shoulders as he pumped into her body, brushing over her g-spot, her thighs trembling with arousal.

  Then, abruptly, he pulled away, wiping his fingers on her outer thigh, zippering them closed again. “We will play more later. Panties off.”

  He backed up, crossing his large, muscled arms over his chest. Hooking her thumbs into the waistband, she tugged them down over the swell of her bottom, letting the fabric puddle at her bare ankles.

  “Hand them to me,” he said.

  She picked up the scant purple material, passing them to him with a shaky hand. He pulled them to his nose, sniffing the gusset, then winking at her. She felt a blush rise from her chest to her cheekbones, unable to even make eye contact with him. How would she ever look him in the eye again? She’d never had anyone do that before.

  “You have great panties. Maybe, if you behave, we can enjoy them without a spanking occurring first, yes?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Turn. Bottom facing me.”

  She took a deep breath, swiveling reluctantly, fighting the urge to clench her buttocks. His fingers deftly undid her bra, and her breasts swung forward, spilling out. He gently pulled the straps down her arms, freeing her completely from its constraint. The hard ridge of his cock pressed against her bottom while those same strong, thick hands cupped her breasts. He trailed kisses up the column of her neck, nibbling on her earlobe.

  He sighed loudly. “Such a bad girl. I have plans for you tonight, Caro. You’ll have a sore, red bottom, yes, but I promise I’ll make you happy later. But for now, you will be very sorry.”

  He pulled a chair out, leaving her standing with her ass still facing him, while he sat down. “Go to your utensil drawer and bring a wooden spoon to me.”

  Instinctively, she cupped her backside, pivoting to face him. “Oh, no! I hate the spoon.”

  He grinned. “I know. Most girls hate the wooden spoon. It hurts. But very naughty girls get that before they are blistered with my belt. Get the spoon, Caro.”

  Oh, God!

  It had been years since she’d been spanked with a wooden spoon. Once she got older, she’d only been spanked with a belt. If she remembered correctly, it hurt as much, if not more than, the belt.

  She snatched the most innocuous spoon in the drawer. Not too large, but not too small either. The small ones hurt more. This one was simple, with no slots or holes. Just a normal wooden spoon. She stood in front of him, handing it off like a baton.

  He slapped it against the palm of his left hand sharply, the sound making her jump. “This will do nicely. Good choice.” He grasped her arm, helping her to lie her naked body over his lap. She complied with a half moan and half sob. He adjusted her position, raising his right leg so her buttocks were in a prominent position for the spoon. Locking his muscular right leg ac
ross the backs of her thighs, he kept her utterly immobile. She found it hard to breathe, her anxiousness rising with every passing second.

  “Tell me why you’re getting spanked, Caroleena.” He tapped the spoon on her waiting bottom.

  “I yelled at Sammi. I was mean and hurtful, and I made her cry. I also broke the rule about being nice to my employees.”

  “Yes, you did. Maybe the marks on your ass will help you to talk better tomorrow.” He tucked her close to his body. “You are allowed to cry and shout. But no swearing or hitting. You will keep still and your hands and feet out of the way.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Her voice sounded small even to her ears. There was nothing like a spanking to humble a person, to make them feel small. She resolved to stay still and take her punishment as an adult. She’d treated Sammi unfairly and deserved this. She’d show him how repentant she felt.

  He didn’t begin light and easy, like her father used to. If anything, he started out really hard then eased back — if only a fraction. Regardless, the strokes were pure hell, right from the onset.

  “Maxim, stop! Oh, God! This is too much!” To her surprise, the blows ceased, and she gasped for air, trying to regain her composure before she started to sob.

  How could it possibly hurt this much already? Does the man have any idea how hard he hits?

  Maxim spoke calmly and quietly. “I’m not ending this yet, Caroleena. You asked for this with your bad behavior. You hurt Sammi. She couldn’t even breathe, she was so upset. I don’t hear you sounding like that. Not yet anyway.”

  Then he started beating out a rhythm on her bottom with that wooden spoon again. She tried — and soon failed — to be stoic, quickly giving way to the pain, sobbing and begging as the spanking continued.

  “I promise! I won’t shout at anyone. Ever! I mean it, Maxim!” As if it had a mind of its own, her bottom rocked and twisted upon his legs, as if trying to avoid his swats. But it was to no avail.

  Maxim chuckled. She felt dejected, he didn’t take her seriously for even a minute. “Promises during a spanking are same as promises in backseats with lovers — given in the heat of the moment.”

  More than likely, he was right. But she promised nonetheless.

  His next order made her blood turn cold. “Open your legs so I can spank your thighs.”

  “W-what?” She looked over her shoulder at him, sure she’d heard him wrong.

  No. No one spanks there, do they? Unless by mistake.

  “Caroleena Leigh, I don’t repeat myself without consequences. Open your legs.” His tone made her belly flip, his voice deep and menacing. She opened her legs a tiny bit, hoping it would satisfy him.

  “Wider.”

  She spread them further. Maxim proceeded to spank the tender flesh on the inside —from the knees all the way up to nearly her sex. Her instinctive reaction was to snap them shut, protecting the delicate skin — that is until he proceeded to swat her outer thighs roughly in response. The sting was enough that while screeching and trying to escape, she pushed them open again, only to have the assault on her inner thighs renewed. This pattern continued until she sobbed pathetically, her legs on fire. He finally stopped her paddling, and she cried forlornly over his lap, trying to regain her composure. She had barely started to catch her breath when his hard hand patted her abused flesh. “Stand up. Time for the rest of your punishment.”

  The rest of my punishment?

  She’d never been disciplined anything like this before, and he wanted to give her more? He hoisted her into a standing position, steadying her before rising himself. “I think it would be good for you to bring the spanking belt back to me. Since you didn’t want to follow directions today, following this direction will be difficult.”

  He had no idea. She hated retrieving an implement. “But I don’t know where it is.”

  “It is in my room. Go to my dresser, second drawer. Pull out the large, black belt. It will teach a harsh lesson you are in desperate need of.” Her clit throbbed on cue at the words.

  Oh, God! The same belt he used in the videos with Viktoria!

  The tile felt cool under her feet as she walked out of the kitchen toward his room.

  He yelled after her. “No rubbing. That red bottom gets no comfort.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she replied, her voice shaky.

  Maxim kept his room neat and orderly. The bed was made, his clothes put away, the dressers clean and tidy. If it hadn’t been for the cleaners she employed, she knew her own room would never look like this. Apparently, the man kept all areas of his life disciplined. She opened the second drawer, finding several implements inside: a cane, a paddle, and a whip. And resting on top of the other implements, there was a thin dress belt and the stout length of black leather he’d ordered her to retrieve. She picked it up, the width taking up most of the palm of her hand. The large buckle jingled, so she held it tight in her palm, sparing her from having to listen to it on her trek back to Maxim. Her ass tingled in anticipation of the sting this would impart upon her already sore bottom.

  She held the belt out for him to take. “We’re going to do something different. You are going to stand in corner over there.” He pointed with the belt. “But first, I will wrap this around your upper thighs so you can think about upcoming spanking.”

  He tightened it over her sex. “Now, go!” He pointed to a corner just beyond the kitchen table. Once there she could see that her backside would face him while he sat at the table. She whined, low and long. It would be hell knowing what he would be staring at.

  “No whining. Go.”

  She tried walking toward the corner, but found the belt so tight she had shuffle as if she’d been poured into a mermaid dress. Her flesh jiggled as she walked, fresh heat blooming at her cheeks at what she knew he must have been seeing.

  “Jesus. Your ass looks amazing like this, plumped up, a beautiful shade of deep pink all framed in black.” She shot him a glare over her shoulder, quickly changing it into a smile when he raised his eyebrows at her impertinence. He slowly walked toward her, and she found herself holding her breath, unsure of what he might do next.

  “Let’s make sure your bottom is up on the shelf of the belt.” He hoisted each cheek up, forcing the belt to support them. She made a slow moan, dropping her head, her cheeks flushing, knowing that he’d put her large backside on obscene display.

  “Now for this.” He swatted her bottom so hard, she gasped, rising on her toes. “You will not glare at me, yes?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He struck several times below the belt onto her already sore thighs. “When I give an order, you will obey quietly, yes?” He continued to slap her until she started to cry again.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He smacked her swollen nates. “Now, I want you to think about Sammi, and why the belt is being used on your naughty zadnitsa.”

  She did feel remorse for her treatment of Sammi. The woman hadn’t deserved to be yelled at, and she definitely didn’t deserve the angry, hurtful words Caroline had spouted off at her. It had been wrong to bring up her weight as a child. Sammi worked hard for her looks. She ate well and exercised daily. Now, Caroline found herself standing in a corner with a red backside, waiting for the belt — and a very large Russian man staring at her revoltingly large buttocks.

  She wanted people to like her, yet she seemed to have a pathological need put down her employees, to keep them in their place. Every now and then though, they might see a glimmer of the real Caroline — but most of the time, she kept that part of her well-hidden. With Maxim’s incentive plan, she suspected they would see this side of her more often. She wasn’t sure she was comfortable feeling vulnerable with the people she worked with though. It had been easier to simply keep them at arm’s length. If people didn’t like her, her aloofness kept her safe and sheltered.

  “Caroleena, turn around, please.”

  She pivoted in the corner, the leather rubbing against the underside of her cheeks, reigniting the burn in her
flesh. The buckle of the belt pressed into her mound, her clit pulsing.

  “Hands on your head.” His voice rumbled over her, demanding obedience. She didn’t hesitate to comply this time. He unfolded himself from the chair, walking up to her. Her pounding heart was in her throat as he slid his hand between the belt and her pussy, finding her clit, pressing and tapping on it. “So wet, Caro.”

  She closed her eyes, her arousal climbing, her legs trembling in response. He eased his fingers though her juices, entering her, curling to find her g-spot, gliding insistently over the sensitive area. Her hips gyrated in helpless response to his clever, knowing touch.

  “Take the belt off. Hand it to me.”

  Her eyes shot open, looking for any sign of mercy or compassion in his gaze. Seeing none there, she swallowed, her trembling hands moving to the buckle of the belt just over her sex. Her arousal deflated like a punctured balloon, replaced with fear and dread. It had been a long time since she’d been spanked with a belt, and the memory of his video belting of Viktoria wasn’t helping with her trepidation one bit.

  Caroline had to tug on the leather to get the tooth loose from the hole, momentarily heightening the burn in her thighs. Once the belt came undone, she held it by the large, cold silver buckle, handing it over to him, the menacing length of leather looking frighteningly like a long, black snake.

  His meaty hand took it, palming the buckle, slowly folding the belt over it as he smacked the end against his leg. He pointed with the belt. “Living room.”

  She walked into the well-appointed space, the white couches and accented black tables surrounding her. The sun was just beginning to set in the sky, the buildings and city below covered in a pink glow, the street lights flickering on here and there.

  “Over the back of the couch.” She’d never been spanked in this position. She’d read about it and seen several videos on the spanking site of course, but she hadn’t considered the possibility that she’d ever experience such a thing herself. This position left the women vulnerable — unable to reach back to protect themselves, unable to clench, their pussy displayed and open for fondling. She’d often wondered if the belt hit their tender labia.

 

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