The moment his cock pushes inside my ass, I let out a long, low moan that gives everything away. I am being punished, but my body is performing that sexual alchemy it did before. He wants to shame me, dominate me, punish me. He wants to breach the most private of my spaces and force me to take him as he desires, and all that thinking about how awful he is does is make me wetter and more turned on.
He is growling softly as his cock slowly dominates my ass, inch by inch claiming space that had never belonged to anyone but me before he came here.
“That’s it,” he growls, his hips slapping against my cheeks with every rough, pounding stroke.
I am crying out every time he sinks deep inside me and I feel his hips press against my upturned ass and his cock fill me.
He comes inside me, slaps my ass.
I figure he is done, but I am wrong.
“Now for the spanking,” he says, crouched next to me. “I’m going to spank all that cum I just filled your ass with back out of you again.”
He starts smacking my cheeks, and the fact that I am turned on and haven’t come is enough to make the pain feel more like stinging warmth. My clit rubs against the sheets every time I squirm, and I wonder if he knows what he is doing to me, or if he thinks that this is actually going to make me be good for him, because I have no intention of that.
The slaps compound on one another, sting and heat growing in the same way until I am shamelessly grinding against the bed between each of those swift slaps.
“You’re wet,” he says. “But you’ve probably been wet since I first pinned you to the bed and told you I was going to discipline you. Naughty girls like you love it when someone takes charge. To have the nerve to try to walk out of your job on the second day there just to test your boss’s resolve. You’re a handful, young lady, but I am more than capable of handling you.”
I bite my lower lip so I don’t say anything. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction still. I am not broken yet. Yes, he fucked my ass; yes, he made me take his cock in the one place I really never thought I would allow any man. Yes, I know I am going to ache there tomorrow, and perhaps the day after because of how hard he pounded me once he had me stretched out to his liking.
“Looks like someone can come just from being spanked,” he observes, fisting my hair.
There’s no escaping this man. Not physically, and not emotionally. He reads me as if I am a lab report, no subtlety missed. My every expression, movement, and moan is data to him, and he has no qualms about using it against me.
He spanks hard and fast, peppering my ass with so many slaps there is no chance of counting them all, much less being aware of them all. He has set me adrift on a raft chasing pleasure, rutting my clit first against the bed, and then against his leg as he moves to sit on the bed, pulling me over his lap so he can administer punishment in the more traditional way.
“Naughty girls who don’t do their work properly during working hours get woken up to have their bottoms fucked and spanked, don’t they,” he drawls to me in a low growly tone that sends little bolts of excitement right to my clit.
I come while he spanks me, finding enough friction against his thigh to let my greedy pussy reach the peak I have been searching for since he first touched me. He spanks me through every jolting contraction of pleasure, making the climax roll on and on until I am absolutely exhausted and entirely weak over his thigh.
In the aftermath he keeps me in place, one hand on the back of my neck as he rubs and lightly scratches my hot cheeks. I can feel his cum leaking out of me, sticking between my thighs, just like he promised it would when he said he was going to spank me into submission.
I have a lovely floaty feeling in my body, as if all the stress and tension between us has dissipated. I am left with nothing but the certainty that I am in more trouble than I could have possibly imagined.
“It’s going to be very cute in a few hours when the sun is up and you are at work, wearing one of your professional little skirts and sitting on a hard wooden chair that is going to make your sore bottom quite uncomfortable,” he says. “I’m going to make sure you stay warm, too. The moment I think you are off task, I’m going to bend you over, pull your panties down, and use the back of a hard wooden hairbrush on you. Do you understand?”
I moan a kind of incoherent answer. Of course I understand. He is going to keep using his physical and sexual dominance to control me, and I am going to delight in his attempt while keeping steadfast in my own desire to make decisions for myself.
He pulls my underwear back up snugly and pats my bottom. “My cum is going to dry on you,” he says. “Don’t wash it off before you come into work. I will know if you have, and I will have to give you a fresh dose.”
CHAPTER 3
Lydia
I wake up aching and satisfied to my core. I almost think I dreamed it, but there is far too much physical evidence to suggest otherwise.
Simon is gone.
I am alone in bed.
I get up and pad to the shower, washing away the night’s activities. It’s part of my morning routine that I don’t even think about. I am massaging shampoo into my hair when I remember what he said about leaving his cum on me.
“Fuck that,” I say to myself. “I’m not going to walk around dirty. He can get over it.”
The fact that I am going into work and not calling the police and pressing charges should be more than enough for him. The truth is that I liked what he did. Not all of it, not while it was happening, but there’s something about being so deeply desiredby a man who will contort existence to see me that makes me feel, I don’t know. Special.
Simon’s attention is more intense than anything I’ve ever felt. I know I am caught up in something beyond my control. I know that when I push, it will push back. I know that I am wanted and desired, maybe too much. It’s like I am a captive, but I’m still technically free.