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I sniggered for a fraction of a second when he called me Miss Marshall; the sarcasm in his voice was rich and clear. He might address me deferentially by using the formal title but deep down we both knew it was a falsehood. He was not the one who had to be respectful at all times. I refocused my thoughts to the issues I wanted to clear up. Point one ticked off. He looked back down at his contract. Point two: “Also...”
He sighed in minor frustration as I started to speak.
“I need to shop. You wanted me to get more quality clothes to wear.” I picked at the strands on my threadbare jeans.
“Yes, along as you take an escort.” He frowned thinking to himself. “I should probably arrange for you to have a female protection officer. Don’t want Johnson or any man following you into the changing room.”
I blushed, I had not thought of that predicament. Good another point dusted off.
“Work...um, when will I find out about a job?” I could immediately see by his expression that he had had enough of the interrogation.
“Am I going to get any work done this evening?” he snapped at me.
“Sorry,” I tried to look contrite.
“What’s the rush? You don’t need money,” he chucked his papers on the coffee table in front of him. “Is there anything else you want to discuss, Miss Marshall, while you have me pinned down?” he growled.
“I just want to know when I can get back to work. I’m used to making my own way. I’m twenty-four years old and I want a good career, not be stuck in a house all day,” Tears suddenly welled up in my eyes.
“That’s enough! And don’t blubber. You’re forgetting your place.” Jason slumped back in his sofa. “We’ve not had one night here and you expect everything to fall into place straight away. You will have to learn to wait.”
I nodded. I knew he was right. “I’m sorry. Sir,” I looked down. I could sense those blue eyes striking me down, putting me in my place.
“I think you need a lesson in respect.”
I gulped, something was going to happen, and I did not think my pleasure was in his mind. I instinctively came off the sofa and knelt before him. Waiting, the good submissive before her master. Jason leant over, picked the newspaper off the table and began to roll it up in his hands, making a rolling pin shaped implement. My pulse rate had shot up, he was going to spank me and the knowledge was like a nectar to my bee-like libido. I took a sharp intake of breath and began to undo the buttons on my Levi jeans.
“Everything off,” he instructed.
I nodded and obeyed him without question. Being told to strip was such a huge turn-on button. The moment he said the magic words I was ignited below. Nudity did not shame me when I was with familiar people or surroundings. I was not a narcissus about my body form, although there was always room for improvement. However, I liked the notion men found flagrant bareness appealing and the act of divesting my clothes always helped sink me into my submissive place. The contrast between the two of us was marked; he was clothed and unassailable where as I was nude and vulnerable.
I was grateful there were thick drapes hanging in the front window. No-one could see me as I stripped off, carefully placing my clothes on the sofa. I could not fail to hide my firm nipples and I knew I was already becoming wet below.
He looked at me with such a stern face, his chiselled features and thin lined lips. Handsome, an incredibly handsome man. He tapped his lap. I lay across him, arms stretched out in front and legs behind, across the other side of the sofa. My head I rested on the intricate pattern of the sofa. If I was an electrical appliance, I had been well and truly plugged in and the tingle of static was shooting all over my skin. He stroked my buttocks, circling my flesh with a finger. Tracing my scar line he bent over and kissed it, I groaned. Tender moment over he pinned me down with one hand and took the rolled up newspaper in the other hand.
Quietly he spoke to me. “You will count for me up to fifty and say thank you after each blow. I will have your gratitude. This may be a terraced house, but I can assure you the walls are thick, scream and shout, you’re not going to be heard.”
He did not mention Mr Brooks below, no doubt the so called butler was part of Mr Lucas’s privacy agreement club. I shut my eyes and clenched my teeth. Waiting for that first firm hand to land on my exposed backside.
We were lying in bed and Jason was massaging cream into my very red posterior. I winced under his administrations. He was naked having alleviated himself of clothing when we staggered into the bedroom, eager to have more sex with me.
“Who would have thought a rolled up newspaper could be such a good spanking tool,” murmured Jason with amusement.
I smarted at the very recent memory of his “good” spanking as he called it.
~
After ten well-placed blows, I struggled to contain myself, crying out the numbers pitifully and moving about his lap. He threatened to tie me down unless I kept still for him. He laid another ten blows on me and I begged him to stop after one retched ‘thank you’, as if the pain was unwanted. Deep down I was gushing with the attention he was giving me. He did not cease, only safe-words would stop him. I did not though. We both knew I was deeply aroused and struggling to contain myself as I wriggled about on his lap.
The blows became harder and I tried to distract my pain receptors with all my usual techniques. I found I was drifting, not an unwelcome sensation as I liked the feeling of lifting off. My counting was a distant mutter as if my voice had been disconnected and the rest of me was floating away. The pain diminished, I was pumped with my body’s defensive hormones and neurotransmitters and they flooding me with strange sensations of detachment from reality. My head lay on one side, resting on my outstretched arm, eyes shut and vacant expression.
“Gemma!”
He pulled my ponytail, lifting me up and my eyes opened. Jason was having none of my floaty effects. I was hardly audible with my count and dragged back from my befuddle state, he forced me to focus on him.
I howled the fiftieth count with relief and a bizarre sense of achievement at having reached his goal. I did not want to disappoint him. He stopped abruptly and immediately inserted two fingers deep inside me, fucking me with them for several minutes. By then my begging was truly pathetic and he held off until his cock was too uncomfortable to be contained behind his waistband. I was pushed off his lap, then turned and made to kneel on all fours in front of the dormant fireplace.
“You will be respectful and undemanding of my time, my slut. I want you to be perfectly behaved for the rest of the week, not a step wrong. I don’t have the time to provide this kind of maintenance every night. Do you understand me?” he had snarled. Every bit the master of me. “Now you will please me with your body, don’t even ask for fucking permission! You own wishes are of no consequence!”
