I finish up lunch, and head back to the lab. If Lydia hasn’t taken a break, I am going to send her out to eat.
As I walk into the lab, I find it empty. Okay. Good. Maybe she’s gone out to get something. I go back to my station and I am about to start work when movement in my peripheral visionmakes me aware that the doors to the area I specifically and firmly designated as out of bounds are opening.
She peeks through the crack in the doors, trying to sneak past me without being noticed. My temper spikes. I put my instruments down, turn and reach through the doors. I grab her by the back of the neck, pull her back into the main lab, and spank her skirt-covered ass rather hard.
Her yowl is pleasingly pained.
“I told you to stay out of there,” I say. “When I give you an order, I expect you to obey it. This is not a college library. This is a private research facility with more money invested in it than you can possibly imagine, with spies attempting to break in every five minutes, and with the military salivating at the prospect of this technology, I need you to follow rules and respect boundaries. If you disobey me again, I’ll paddle you.”
Her look of shock is priceless. I don’t think anybody has ever disciplined her. I can imagine she has been a good girl most of her life. Studious. Careful. Anything she did wrong was probably overlooked because of how well she behaves in every other way.
She thinks that because she is curious, she should get to indulge that curiosity. She doesn’t see why she should have to follow rules.
“You can’t do that to me!” Her lower lip quivers, and her eyes well with tears.
“I can. And I will.”
“I’ll tell on you.”
“To who? Veronica? Do you want to tell her you were told to stay out of certain areas for your safety, you didn’t follow thoserules, and you ended up with a spanked bottom? Be my guest. I can assure you that story will be more embarrassing for you than inconvenient for me. You’ll likely get yourself fired for breaking protocol.”
My cock twitches at her crestfallen expression, as she starts to realize she is at my mercy. If she wants to do her job, she has to keep me on her side. If she disobeys me, and I spank her like the spoiled little brat she is increasingly seeming to be, then she has to simply tolerate that.
She takes a step back, looking flustered.
“You still haven’t apologized,” I prompt her.
“Oh. Uh. Sorry, I guess.”
“That’s not an apology,” I reply.
“I’m sorry?”
Slightly better, but still way too much attitude. I really do not think that Lydia is used to being held responsible at all. The concept of sorry seems like something she shouldn’t have to engage with.
I myself am becoming distracted from discipline because I can smell something on her that I am sure she’d be ashamed by if she knew how sensitive my senses are.
She’s wet.
More than wet, she’s ovulating. She’s ripe to be bred, and what she wants, more than anything, is to be fucked.
Maybe she was curious as to what I had in the back. Or maybe she got caught on purpose because she wants me to dosomething about it. Is this her way of asking for something she doesn’t know how to ask for any other way?
I take a step forward. “Say you’re sorry properly, or I will give you what you really deserve for having broken the rules.”
Her eyes widen, and I see her take a shallower breath. “I don’t know what you want from me,” she says.
Of course she does. She knows how to apologize. She doesn’t want to. And not doing it is exciting her deeply.
“I think you do,” I say, moving another step forward. She backs up against the wall.
“Nuh-uh.” She bites her lower lip. That gesture alone screamsfuck me.
She is going to tempt me and disobey me until I am forced to hike that skirt, pull down her panties, and show her what it feels like to be taken properly in hand.
My cock is throbbing right now. If not for the lab coat, she would see my erection tenting my pants. I wonder if it would horrify her to know just how effective her little ruse has been.
I can tell she’s single. She doesn’t smell like another man, and if there were a man in her life and she was this fertile, I know I would smell his seed on her. He would have marked her in the way all men do, one way or another. He would have rubbed his musk on her, left a pheromonal signature to let others know she was taken.