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The truth burned on her tongue, and for a moment she was tempted to tell him everything. If for no other reason than to prove she wasn’t the shallow, spoiled little rich girl he obviously thought she was.
But she still had enough pride left to keep that to herself. If he wanted to think so poorly of her, then fine. Let him. She had nothing to prove to him, or anybody else.
It seemed like forever he went on, peppering her bottom with sharp little slaps, occasionally interspersed with short lectures on being more careful, keeping herself safe, blah blah blah. By the time he stopped to ask if she’d learned her lesson, she very nearly sagged against the desk in relief.
“Yes, Sir. I’ll be more careful.” Hopefully she sounded more sincere than she felt.
She must have, because he patted her bottom lightly, and his tone was filled with warmth when he gave her another, “Good girl”.
When she tried to stand up, however, the hand on her back pressed her back down into position. “We’re not quite finished, Charlotte. That spanking was just for putting yourself in danger. You still have to answer for your behavior in the bathroom.”
Oh, fuck. She’d completely forgotten about kneeing him in the groin. “Please, Sir. I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll be a good girl forever.” The plea in her voice was only somewhat fake. Even if she wasn’t feeling very remorseful, she also didn’t want any more spankings, especially with a ruler, which sounded a hell of a lot meaner than just his hand.
Then he ran his hand over her scorched skin, and her clit throbbed at his touch, making her wonder if maybe Frankie wasn’t as crazy as she’d thought after all. “Naughty little girls always say the sweetest things when they’re in the middle of getting their bottoms properly spanked,” he said with a low chuckle. “Ten with the ruler, and then you’re free to go, Charlotte.”
She watched as he made his way around the desk. If she was going to escape, this was her best chance. But it was as though she’d been glued into place by some invisible force, and she could only stand there and watch as he pulled a long wooden ruler from the top drawer, running his hand over the pale wood almost lovingly.
Looking up from the ruler, his piercing gaze met hers and he smiled, his teeth flashing in a way that made her stomach tighten and her pussy clench. “Ten, to remind you not to fight me the next time I decide you need that beautiful ass of yours reddened.”
Next time?
She left the question unasked as he made his way back to stand beside her and tapped the ruler against her already aching bottom. “Count them out for me, Charlotte. One, Sir, two, Sir, etcetera.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The first swat from the ruler took her breath away, and the tears she’d managed to fight back filled her eyes once again. “One, Sir.”
A second swat, just below the first, had her sucking in a sharp breath as the pain radiated across her skin. “Two, Sir.”
At the third, she went up onto her toes with a squeal of pain. Goddammit, that hurt. “Etcetera, Sir.”
“What?”
Surprise echoed through his tone, giving her the strength to draw in a deep breath and look over her shoulder at him with a smirk. “That’s how you said to count. One, two, etcetera.”
“Does this seem like a good time to get sarcastic with me, little girl?”
“I wasn’t being sarcastic. I was following instructions. Sir.”
The ruler snapped across the tops of her thighs, twice, making her cry out at the extra sting. “Just so we’re clear, those didn’t count. And neither did the ‘etcetera’ stroke. Starting again, at number three. Count correctly, or you will find sitting down comfortably to be very difficult tomorrow.”
Worth it. “Yes, Sir.”
Maybe it was her imagination, but sassing him seemed to make it easier to take the next few swats. It wasn’t until they reached number six that her eyes welled with tears again. By number eight, her voice was thick with them, and by ten, those tears had slipped down her cheeks to splatter against the dark wood of his desk.
“All done, Lottie-bug,” he said, his tone far more gentle than she would have expected. “Come here.”
Despite knowing he was the one who had just put her through the most painful, humiliating ordeal of her life, she instinctively turned to him for comfort. Sniffling pitifully, she allowed herself to be wrapped up in his arms, her tears soaking into his shirt.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmured, rocking her gently from side to side. “Are you going to keep yourself safe from now on?”
“I’ll try, Sir.”
His chest rumbled with laughter. “I suppose that’s the best I could ask for. At least while you’re working for me, I can keep an eye on you.”
Pulling away slightly, she pouted up at him. “You’re really going to make me work for you?”
“Yes. Unless you’d like to tell me the truth about why you signed yourself up for the auction.”
