Authors: Maren Smith
Kaylee stared at his hands, spellbound by the size of them, their strength, their capability, and the next thing she knew, her foot had completely circumvented her hesitant brain and taken that first small step forward.
The rest followed like an avalanche, leaving her helpless to do anything but go where his will pulled her. She ended up standing at his right, staring down at what looked to be a very sturdy lap while he reached to take hold of her pants, unhooking the top button of her jeans and pulling the zipper down its metal teeth. He stripped her of what dubious protection her clothing offered, tugging it all the way down her legs to knees, leaving it to sag into a puddle of discarded denim around her ankles.
His blue eyes locked with hers, and her whole body sang, prickling and tingling in all the strangest places, while dreaded anticipation and eagerness exploded together when his fingers hooked the elastic of her underwear. Without preamble, he pulled those down as well and there she suddenly was, completely naked from navel to shins. All he had to do was look at her or—oh God, oh God—touch, but he didn’t. His steady gaze remained tangled with hers and did not abandon her.
His deep breaths were slow and steady; hers were much faster. His hands, when he took hold of her wrist and then her upper arm, felt warm against her skin and were strong and unyielding; hers shook, and shook badly. She tried to brace herself against his thigh, but he steadied her, guiding her down into the proper position across his lap.
He adjusted her almost immediately, heaving her until her hips were centered almost solely over his left thigh. A subtle shift of his knees and push of his hand against her far thigh, and the next thing she knew her right leg was imprisoned in the vise of his, leaving her left to dangle free completely off his lap. Her knee almost touched the floor, but couldn’t quite. Every secret, intimate, feminine aspect of her was now openly exposed to both his eyes and his touch.
This time, he looked.
“Beautiful,” he said, and Kaylee nearly jumped out of her skin when his hand cupped boldly between her legs. He held her, waiting, his fingers burning into her flesh. “Shaven smooth. I like that.”
If he expected her to cry the safeword, Kaylee surprised them both, though her eyes were as wide as saucers and her knuckles were bone white where she gripped the sofa cushion. She bit back her initial gasp—shock and awe and long-time fantasy finally come to life—and simply felt. The heat sinking from him into her, the wandering caress of his fingers as he stroked her, his long fingers parting the folds of her labia, finding her clit, finding her so thoroughly aroused and wasting no time even for her to process that sensation before he dipped in to test that wetness.
She snapped her hand back, but grabbed his shin instead of his arm as he began to spread that moisture from front to back, pussy to anus, the tip of one finger circling that tense little entrance but not penetrating. Kaylee fisted both hands and said nothing. It was all she could do just to remember to breathe, especially when his stroking caress drifted back down again, dipping into slick heat, finding her clit and circling all around until that sensitive nub began to swell and throb and her entire body quivered in response.
It was a fight to hold still. It was a fight she lost when he drew back his hand and swatted, catching her pussy fully and filling the whole of his office with the sharp, wet sound of impact and her shrill gasp for air.
“Now,” Master Marshall softly asked, his hand returning to her stinging sex. “Do you object to having your pussy spanked?”
Kaylee shook her head violently back and forth, her tiny gasps as he caressed her, his fingertips again wandering in circles all around her throbbing clit, his thumb sweeping in lazy strokes back and forth through her wet folds, not penetrating, but rising high to settle full upon the clenching bud of her anus. He didn’t penetrating her there either.
“Vocalize your responses, please.”
“No,” she gasped, and he spanked her again. “No, sir! Oh!” She kicked both feet, snapping them quickly back down again and stiffening her entire body, her bottom tucking and writhing in tight, tiny circles, trying to keep time with the quickening strokes of his petting fingers.
“Keep your feet down. You can kick—” He flicked at her clit, then spanked again, a clap of brisk sound and an intensely pleasurable sting that made her whole body spasm and lock. “You can buck—” Flick, smack. “—wiggle and cry, but if you raise your feet higher than your knees, then I am going to—” Flick, smack. Smack. SMACK! “—punish you.”
Her clenching hand abandoned his shin, shooting back to grab at—his hand, her own thigh, she didn’t know—but it worked. He paused, albeit only long enough to catch her wrist. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pinned her errant hand to her side and then he was spanking her bottom. For real this time.
At first, it seemed her body could not process the startling sensation. Her clit still hummed. Her pussy throbbed and pulsed, so jolted by that first sharp impact that, for a moment, she could have sworn what she’d felt instead was the first hard penetrating thrust of sex. But it didn’t hurt. Not right then. No, at first it was only an impact, mirrored by the crisp sound of skin striking bare, squirming skin and warming under the heat of his caressing palm as he soothed her squirming cheeks. His hand rasped down the backs of each thigh in turn, and on the upward stroke, the tips of his fingers or thumb lightly brushed her labia.
The sting didn’t come until three or four swats later, when he began to really spank her. The broad flat of his hand lay brisk, staccato swats across the full swells of each bottom cheek. Right, left. Right, left. Steady as a metronome and just hard enough to let her really feel it. The heat of his palm radiated out of his flesh and into hers. Right, left; again and again. The sting began to grow, spreading outward with each descending clap until it encompassed every curving inch of her bottom and the sting was suddenly everywhere, not just growing, but growing teeth. The sting was becoming uncomfortable. It was becoming…pain.
Right, left,
smack
! His open palm came to a sharp rest full across her exposed pussy, and Kaylee jumped nearly all the way off his lap. His restraining arm tightened across her back, holding her in place while he rubbed, soothing the hurt. His finger slicked up and down along her slit, parting her to lodge at the molten, clenching core of her.
“Do you object to having your pussy penetrated?”
“No, sir!” Kaylee gasped, and her whole body rocked as she was invaded.
He thrust all the way up until his palm butted against her. His finger curled inside her, stroking, seeking, finding that secret spot that dropped Kaylee flat against the couch. Her free hand slapped the cushion; her captured one clawed the empty air. She grabbed the back of his shirt, needing desperately to be anchored somehow as he thrust, withdrew and thrust again, slapping and grinding into her pussy, touching her in ways no one had ever before tried.
And then she felt it, the brush of his thumb as he settling directly over her anus. When he began to apply pressure, her whole body jolted into shocked stillness.
“W-wait!” she gasped, her throat tightening on the objection as if her body sought to pull it back.
“Do you object to having your ass penetrated?”
Everything inside her tightened, a feeling both awful and erotic all at once.
A good girl would have said yes. A good girl never would have come here in the first place.
“No,” Kaylee whispered, so thoroughly shocked by that admission that she could only lie there, staring without seeing the sofa cushion below her, absorbing the sensation of his pressing fingers.
She expected him to sink into her then, but he didn’t. In a knife-sharp stroke of friction, he withdrew his hand and began spanking her again. Harder than before. Almost harder than she could endure.
“What did I tell you about respect?” he said mildly, almost as though amused, and yet that softness was not reflected in his hand. Sting became fire and the fire burned her deeply, encompassing the whole of her bottom until that glorious, wounded throbbing was all she could feel.
Until her pussy was pulsing in time with each new clap of his hand.
Until his attention suddenly shifted southward, and Master Marshall lay three sharp spanks to the backs of each of her thighs. Virgin, unprepared skin registered none of that as erotic or wonderful. For the first time, it just plain hurt.
Kaylee kicked up both feet, only to snap them back down again just as fast. For the first time, she really fought his hold, if only for a few frantic, mindless seconds. It gained her absolutely nothing. His hold was absolute. Her legs remained widely parted. Her right hand remained trapped against her side. His arm across the small of her back kept her pinned in place.
He did not spank her again, but instead asked, “Do you object to having your thighs spanked?”
“Yes, sir!” she gasped, half aware of how she must look, her bottom clenching and humping upon his knee, writhing in time and tempo with the throbbing smart spreading down the backs of both legs. He didn’t strike again, but it didn’t matter. In the absence of spanking, the hurt only seemed to grow. “Oh! Oh!”
“Because it hurts?”
“Yes, sir! Yes, it does!” Boy, did it ever! Only just beginning to calm, Kaylee pressed her forehead into the couch cushion. She wished she could get her hands back there long enough to rub.
“Should disciplinary spankings not hurt?” he countered.
Kaylee twisted, trying to catch sight of him back over her shoulder. Her hair kept getting in the way. “Yes, sir…I guess.”
“Are you then more interested in receiving only erotic spankings, rather than the mixture of erotic and disciplinary specified in your application?” The backs of his fingers caressed a single stroke down the flushed, aching flesh of each thigh in turn. Sensitivity heightened dizzily, leaving her tingling everywhere he’d touched.
“No, sir,” she said, honesty softening her words until they were barely more than a whisper. “I just…I haven’t done anything wrong. I wasn’t prepared for it, that’s all.”
“Do you always need a reason?”
His fingernails lightly scraped from thigh to thigh, crossing over skin so sensitive that her whole body erupted in an intensely erotic version of the willies. Her eyes closed against her will. His hand moved on, tracing, scratching, leaving that delicate line that bisected her bottom and thighs to climb the gentle curve of her burning ass. He teased the fire he had built, stirring the flames until she couldn’t stop herself from writhing all over again.
“Do you?” he pressed.
She moaned, shaking her head.
“Do bad girls not deserve to receive spankings they won’t necessarily enjoy?”
Oh God. Kaylee arched, her arms and legs straining against his hold, wanting anything but to break free as his touch traced down the crack of her ass, coming closer, closer to where she wanted most to feel his teasing touch. His fingertips stopped just short of her labia. “Yes! Yes, sir, please!”
“Do bad little girls deserve to have their thighs spanked?” He was circling her sex now, endless, lazy tracing motions that dipped into the moisture trickling down her thighs without dipping in far enough to sate her need. No matter how she twisted and arched, pushing back in pursuit of his fingers, even riding his knee, she could not force his hand where she needed it most to go.
His hand abruptly withdrew and slapped her pussy, a light spank that stung just hard enough to curl her toes up tight in the ends of her shoes.
“Do they?” he demanded.
“Yes, sir!” She was so desperately tuned to his touch that it was all she wanted right then, but his fingers abandoned her needy sex. He skimmed across her anus, drifting back up along the crease between her clenching buttocks to play once among the throbbing flames.
“What are you, Kaylee?” he asked, sultry and low. His hand came to rest on her left leg, the tips of his fingers burning her inner thigh just inches below her achingly empty pussy. “Are you a naughty little girl?”
His voice moved over her, soothing, calming, devastating her and leaving her whimpering. Not so much from what he’d said but from what she knew was going to happen if she agreed with him. And she did want to agree. Right then, she wanted it with every wildly frantic nuance of her mind, body and sexual soul.
“What are you?” he coaxed. “Answer me.”
His voice and fingers teased. Kaylee hid her face in her arm. She locked her lips together, tucking her chin up tight against her chest and pressing her forehead into the yielding cushion below. She shook her head.
Breathe, just breathe. Don’t answer.
“Are you a bad little girl who wasn’t quite honest on her application?” He moved his hand, letting it come to rest on her right thigh now. That slight brush of his thumb passed through her as if on electric waves. “Talk to me, Kaylee. What are you?”
Don’t answer.
She arched again, throwing back her head, staring desperately up at the ceiling. How was it possible to keep burning hotter and not catch fire? She locked her lips again, turning her next whimper into a mewling hum, no longer as frightened of the pain of having her thighs spanked as much as she was of the humiliation attached to what he wanted her to confess.
And she was going to say it. Already the words were coming, rushing up out of her chest, sticking in her throat, choking her.
“Tell me, young lady.”
She shook her head, but the need was stronger than her embarrassment. “I…” She only just choked it back down again.
He shifted his touch again, this time boldly cupping between her thighs, burning her with the heat of his palm. “Do you know how wet you are, Kaylee? What kind of girl lets her pussy get this wet when her naughty bottom is being spanked?”
He spanked her—the slap so very gentle and yet so incredibly hard to take—and the impact as it landed directly on her labia sounded mortifyingly exactly as he’d said: wet. He slicked his fingers through her sex, seeking and finding the throbbing peak of her clit. He captured it, pinching until she stiffened sharply upon his knee.