by Sara Fields
The feeling of his palm against my bottom was so intimate, so domestic that my core twisted hard with desire. It was punishing, but at the same time it was so very, very arousing.
My pussy clenched down hard as he spanked me harder. It stung even more, a blazing fire that swiftly spread across the entirety of my backside the longer it went on.
I wanted to tell him to stop.
I wanted to tell him to spank me harder.
I didn’t do either.
His palm punished every inch of my bottom, from the upper parts of my cheeks to the lower curves of my ass, all the way down to the tops of my thighs. For several terribly long moments, he focused on my thighs. Those hurt the most, the sting building faster than all the rest. The more he smacked there, the more I began to fear that he actually meant to punish me.
I wanted to beg for mercy, but the taste of my own arousal was still fresh on my tongue.
He released my hands.
“Put your hands in front of you,” he commanded softly, and I could have sworn I felt each word pulse in my bones. Hesitantly I pulled my hands forward, knowing I couldn’t quite reach the other side of his desk. I elected to pull my arms under my chest instead.
“Good girl,” he murmured.
My heart pounded and a pulse of arousal zinged my clit.
“Such a wet little pussy on a very pretty girl with a very pink bottom. I wonder how much wetter it’ll get when her bottom is bright red,” he added.
My pussy clenched tight, and I whined in shame, wondering if he could see how much of an effect his words were having on me. My embarrassment only seemed to intensify my arousal, and when he returned to spanking me I almost welcomed it.
This time, his palm was harder. I felt it deeper, every smack reverberating across my bottom and settling deep in my core. With each one, my inner walls clenched greedily, desperately aching to be filled and somewhere something inside me clicked.
The pain became pleasurable.
Each smack stung hot at first, but the blissful desire that followed overwhelmed the hurt. I lifted my bottom and his smacks caught the lower curve of it.
“That’s it. Show me that bright red bottom,” he encouraged, and without thinking I arched my back and presented myself to him.
“So very beautiful. Your bottom was made for this, bride,” he mused. For several moments he studied me, dragging his nails over my punished skin, making me gasp with need.
“Hold on, sweet girl. I want this ass redder, so I should warn you this next part is going to hurt,” he said darkly, but there was a definitive aroused edge to his voice now too.
His hand pressed more firmly down against my lower back, holding me in place securely before his palm crashed down onto my backside.
He’d been holding back before. I’m not sure how many times he spanked me, but each one hurt as much as the last. I couldn’t keep quiet, and I stopped trying by the fifth or sixth one. Over and over he spanked me until every last inch of my bottom felt like it was on fire, and when he finally paused once more I was left gasping for air even as my hips rocked back and forth.
His fingers descended between my legs, examining me.
I knew what he’d find. I was even more soaked than before. If he decided to fuck me right now, he’d be able to enter me with ease.
He pressed his pelvis against me, and there was no mistaking what I felt next. He was hard. Very hard and that wasn’t all. Although hidden by the fabric of his pants, I could tell that he was big, bigger than anyone I’d ever felt before. I swallowed with trepidation.
His hand possessively grabbed my ass, squeezing tight enough to border on painful before he released it quickly. My backside jiggled just the slightest bit, forcing me to focus on the needy little pussy between my legs that was crying out for attention.
I turned my head and looked back at him. His dark chocolate eyes bored into mine and I watched as he reached down and unbuckled his belt. I looked down, unable to take my eyes off of it as he pulled it free from the loops of his slacks. It made a gentle swishing noise and my pussy clenched unbecomingly and I didn’t quite understand why.
The leather was black and well-worn in. It was not shiny but a dull matte color that was beautiful in its own way. He noticed my interest and laid it by my head.
“Run your fingers along my belt, sweet girl. As you touch it, I want you to think about how it’s going to feel when I mark your bottom with it,” he coaxed.
My insides did a nervous little flip and I raised my gaze to meet his, caught in a mixture of fear and curiosity that held me utterly captive. I reached for it. The leather was soft, like suede. I gripped it and pulled it close, suddenly awash in the scent of the tanned hide.
He was going to smack my bottom with that.
I looked at it and then back to him.
I should be angrier. I shouldn’t be this wet and I shouldn’t want to beg for his hard cock between my thighs. I shouldn’t want to orgasm for him.
I should want to run out that door.
Why didn’t I?
I slid the belt back to him across the desk. He looked at me with extreme interest and an ever-darkening gaze of desire. His hand returned to my bottom, gliding across my scalded flesh with intention.
“Raise your bottom for me,” he instructed.
Something inside me made me obey. Maybe if I took the belt like a good girl, he’d fuck me and make me come.
What the actual fuck was wrong with me?
I arched my hips upward and I heard the belt swing through the air before I felt it. His palm had hurt, but part of me had enjoyed its painful bite. The belt was different. The belt was like fire from the very start. He lashed me with it hard and fast. Each time it slapped against my skin, it burned hot, blazing hotter with every one. He started at the tops of my cheeks and slowly descended to thrash the backs of my thighs. I cried out into the panties in my mouth.
Oh, this hurt. This hurt more than I thought it would.
I squirmed on top of the desk, trying to turn my hips and avoid that deep painful lash, but his palm held me more firmly against the desk. Right now, I was left with the terrifying realization that he was in control.
I’m not sure at what point I’d lost control. Maybe it had been the moment I’d walked into his office. Maybe it had been the minute I’d walked into the building.
I didn’t know.
All that mattered now was that terrible piece of leather lashing my backside. It swung surely and steadily, meeting my ass over and over again with cruel intention. Its painful bite was more thorough than his palm, fiercer and more brutal and much more intense. I didn’t know how many times he was going to spank me with it and that made it much more terrifying, but at the same time, something even more powerful began to emerge.
My desire rose from the fire like a phoenix coming to life.
I began to embrace it in all that it was.
After the first initial volley, he paused, and I sucked in a pained breath. The deep sting reverberated across my bottom for several long moments, but then his fingers returned to soothe my scalded flesh and the hurt started to dissipate. His fingertips traced along a few of the welts I felt rising on my skin, and I breathed through it, trying to quell the pounding beat of my heart in my chest.
“This bottom is just as beautiful as I thought it would be spanked bright red and marked with my belt,” he murmured.
His words made my body warm, tingling with appreciation like I’d never felt before.
“Stay over the desk. I want to admire you,” he said softly. His palm lifted from the center of my back, and I heard him take a few steps back. I couldn’t see him, but I knew his eyes were on my skin. I could feel it.
I liked it.
I found myself arching my back and absentmindedly spreading my thighs just a little bit wider. No man had ever looked at me like this. No one had called me beautiful like he had, and it was doing strange things to me. It was making me want more.
He rea
ched for me, admiring the marks he’d left behind. His touch was like a bolt of electricity. I gasped into my sodden panties, his fingers eliciting pain and pleasure just like his belt had done.
“Your ass was made to take my belt, sweet bride,” he murmured, and I heard his zipper behind me. I keened nervously, but he didn’t force himself into me. At least, not yet.
The heat of his thick cock pressed against my left bottom cheek. He leaned over me and untied his tie before he tossed it aside on his desk. Then he pulled the panties from my mouth.
“Do you feel how hard I am for you, sweet girl?” he asked.
“Yes,” I finally whimpered, my voice hoarse and a bit timid from misuse.
One hand slinked into the hair at the back of my head and he clutched it tight, pulling my head back just a little bit. The effect of the blossom of pain was immediate, causing my pussy to clench violently with need.
“Do you like that you’ve made me this hard, sweet bride?”
I opened and closed my mouth, unsure of what to say. I knew the truth, that I did like that I made him this hard, but I didn’t want to tell him that.
I lied.
“No,” I said hoarsely, and he chuckled. He maneuvered his hips between mine and slid his cock along my pussy. It was so long that the head of it nestled over top of my clit. The heat of it pressing against my needy bud was the most tempting thing I’d ever felt. I tried to stay still. I tried not to react, but he didn’t give me a choice.
He moved for me.
He stroked his solid and very hard length against my clit as his hands grasped my waist. His movements were steady, slow, and sure. I squirmed to try to avoid him, which only made it worse. Soon, the only thing I could think about was his cock against my thighs and how very much I wanted to come right on top of it.
His fingers dug into my hips, but I no longer felt them.
A strangled moan fell from my lips.
“You were a very good girl for your spanking and your belting, weren’t you, Zoe?” he asked.
Oh. Fuck. I wanted his cock inside me.
I fidgeted a bit more, trying to angle my hips so that his cock might slip inside me, but he had control and he wasn’t about to hand it over to me just like that.
“Answer me, pretty bride,” he warned.
“Yes!” I whined.
“I’m going to correct you just this once, Zoe. When you’re being reminded of your place, you will refer to me properly as sir,” he corrected.
God. Why did my clit throb with need so heavily at his words?
“Yes, sir,” I whispered, my voice almost inaudible. I could feel the heaviness of desire in my breasts, the tightening of my nipples in my bra and the throbbing of my arousal between my legs.
He leaned forward and growled in my ear. I moaned out loud at the sound.
“I said I was going to fuck you, didn’t I?” he whispered.
“Yes, sir,” I gasped.
“I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to wait. I’m going to wait for our wedding night to take you for the very first time,” he announced, and I cried out, my hips shamefully jerking against his cock.
“Please,” I begged before I could stop the word from falling off my lips.
I was so aroused. So angry. So terrified. So incredibly needy.
“Do you think you deserve to come for me, little girl?” he asked.
A strangled whine of need escaped my lips.
“You walked in here a proud businesswoman, but here you are bent over my desk with your bare bottom on display, bright red and marked from my belt, with your soaking wet pussy pressed against my cock,” he added.
I clamped my mouth shut, afraid that I might beg him to fuck me.
“Do you think you’ve been taught a lesson about your place, my pretty bride?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” I whispered anxiously. My pussy tightened down hard, and my clit pulsed endlessly. Would he deny me this after what he’d done?
He leaned upward, lazily stroking my clit with the shaft of his cock. I whimpered, the sound something between a cry and a moan.
“I don’t think so, Zoe. I think there’s one more thing you need to learn as my bride,” he mused.
I stilled nervously. I was missing something, and I wasn’t quite sure what. Did he want to put me over his knee? Would he thrash me more with his belt?
His movements became more persistent. Harder. A bit faster. Like he was forcing me to orgasm, and somewhere deep inside me I hoped that he would. All of my focus was quickly consumed by the needy bud between my thighs, and I cried out with need. My cries became deeper, more desperate, wanting, and I tried not to think about how it sounded. Instead, I just felt what I was meant to feel.
My pleasure built, intensifying with every passing second. At first, I tried to fight it, but the way his cock was stroking my clit was masterful. It was thick and hard, and my arousal made his movements slick against me. Soon enough, I was writhing beneath him, riding his cock as he continued to stroke me with it, taking what he gave me because it felt so impossibly good.
My core twisted hard, and my thighs quivered just the slightest bit. I wanted to fight the pleasure that was swirling within me, but I knew it was a losing battle. If this continued for much longer, I was going to orgasm on top of his cock. To be honest, right now I was desperate enough to want to.
I keened. I was so close.
“Please. I’m going to come, sir,” I pleaded. I moaned, my breath hitching in the back of my throat, and then all at once he pulled away from me.
The painful edge of denial was sharp. He’d forced me right to the cusp of orgasm and taken away his touch at the last second. My core twisted in on itself, feeling as though the stinging pricks of barbed wire were digging into me, and I gasped out loud, the sound harsh.
“No!” I cried.
“Perhaps it would be more effective to teach you your place by leaving you desperately wet and needy for my cock, knowing you’ll have to wait to earn it until our wedding night,” he murmured, and my pussy nearly convulsed at his words.
I heard the sound of his zipper behind me, followed by the sound of the threading of his belt. I was too embarrassed to stand just yet, not that I was sure I would even be able to. My legs felt like jelly, but most of all I didn’t want him to see the heated blush that was all over my face.
His touch glanced along my hip, and I could feel his eyes on me once more. He reached between my legs and captured my clit in his fingers.
“You will not touch yourself after I leave the room, my pretty bride. I want this pussy wet and needy for when I fuck it hard tonight,” he warned, and with that he pinched my clit hard. Already impossibly sensitive, his punishing fingers sent a hard and painful message. He expected obedience from me. I’m not sure what he would do if I disobeyed him, but I was sure that it would hurt. When he finally released my clit, I breathed a sigh of relief as the pain slowly receded, but a gentle ache remained.
I wouldn’t forget that warning.
His hand fell away from my body, and I watched him walk around the desk. He walked down the hall, turned the corner, and I heard the sliding door after that.
Chapter 3
For several long minutes, I just lay across the desk, sort of in a state of shock and muted fury. I almost couldn’t believe what just happened. Maybe it was a dream. With a soft cry, I finally reached back and touched my backside.
It was still warm.
Grayson Asher had called me to his office to offer to buy my business. I’d refused and he’d decided to spank me and belt my backside. He’d done what he’d wanted just because he’d wanted to, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do.
The worst part of it was that he decided that I was his bride.
It wasn’t possible. There was no way the most eligible bachelor in the country had just decided to make me his wife. Not someone like me. No one ever really wanted a woman like me.
I was always so focused on work that the men who had been inte
rested in me soon grew bored and broke it off in search of someone who had more time to dote upon them. It had happened so many times that I’d given up on finding love in the first place. It had always seemed so selfish to even try when there were so many more important things at stake, one more experiment to complete, one more hypothesis to test. My work was endless.
I swallowed hard and eventually managed to push myself off the desk. My skirt was still gathered above my hips, and I took a moment to grasp my bottom cheeks in my hands, soothing away the ache while also exploring the slightly raised welts the belt had left behind. My clit pulsed almost angrily at his absence.
I should be relieved he hadn’t forced me to orgasm, and I should be grateful he hadn’t taken advantage of me, but instead I just felt angry, frustrated, and increasingly on edge. My pussy pulsed needily, and I hummed with unfulfilled aggravation.
There was no way I was going to put my fingers between my thighs either, not because I wanted to be obedient, but because I didn’t want to be thinking about his cock inside me when I came. I wouldn’t fall prey to a man like him. A rich, cocky, arrogant asshole who thought he could take what he wanted without consequence.
I let go of my bottom and rushed to put my skirt back into place. Maybe this had been some sordid fantasy of his to chastise me for refusing to take his money, but it didn’t really matter anymore. He’d left the room. I was safe now by myself.
It was time for me to leave.
With a deep breath to steady myself, I adjusted my shirt and my skirt, making sure I didn’t look like I’d just been taken advantage of by the CEO of Asher Enterprises. I ran my fingers through my hair, hoping it didn’t look too messed up before I picked up my laptop bag and slung it over my shoulder.
I grasped my coffee and took a sip, trying to ignore just how cold it had gotten in the time since I’d drunk it last. To be honest, right now I wished it was something far stronger.
A shot of tequila would be nice. Really. Fucking. Nice.