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“I’ll be there.”
“And since you’ve pressed the point, I suppose here is as good a place as any to start your discipline.” He turned again as though he were looking for something. Having spotted what he wanted, he moved to my desk and swiftly confiscated my thick wooden ruler.
A shock wave of desire swept my system as though he’d just hit me with an electric cattle prod. “Here? Now?”
“You know of any better time? This is one you’ve earned.”
No. Of course not, I said to myself silently, while my mouth managed a hesitant, “No.”
I stood. Everything in my was body quaking now, toes to knees to crotch to shivering shoulders. Spanked in anger has its own thrill; though it’s often gone too quickly to appreciate the feelings. Spanked for discipline was something else. Time makes the erotic feelings emerge and mine were soaring now.
KC sat in a straight-backed side chair while I zoomed to my intercom to inform my secretary that I didn’t want to be disturbed. I suggested that she go to lunch and she agreed. Then turning toward KC, I offered him a quavering smile.
“You think this room is soundproof?” he asked, as he motioned me to his side.
“I’m not sure how much.”
“Then we’ll wait until your secretary leaves.”
I felt only slightly better with that decision; but all my fears seemed swept away once I went over KC’s lap. He held me tightly to him as I recalled from the first spanking in the theatre. I felt his powerful warmth from the moment my thighs and groin touched
his lap. My sexual juices started to flow so much I could hardly keep from squirming against him.
As he raised my skirt—and this time it was one of my shortest ones, Dickerson’s doing again—I felt the air on my skin, the immediate cool, and every small move of KC’s hand as he inched the tight fabric over my hips. Finding my panties in the way, he slowly drew them over my ass and let them dangle at my knees. Bared at last, my butt twitching, I waited, not daring to breathe. I remembered his hands. Every time I saw them they fascinated my imagination—even minutes ago when he gripped the ruler as he looked at my stunned expression. I could imagine the picture of us now—me draped over his thighs, KC picking up the ruler gently laying it on my ass…
I wasn’t wrong in my fantasy. He was as tender with the wood as he might have been with his bare hand—running it over the surface of my skin gently until he finally drew it back and let it fall with the swift flick of his wrist.
Smack!
The burn was instantaneous!
I sucked in air and refused to cry. No telling who might be outside the office. I could only hope for privacy, but it wasn’t guaranteed. The next strike landed with as much force as the first, and the stinging burn began to effect my body. He struck repeatedly, bringing the ruler down fast. He changed his pace and direction, and even the intensity so I couldn’t guess what he’d do next. For a time, his aim drifted to my thighs where the sting was so great I almost lost my cool and started to complain. Sensing my distress, KC held me tighter as my body started to rebel, my feet began to kick in maddening fury. “Hush!” He almost whispered the command, though it was an unbending one. He bore down harder now, his strikes repeated swiftly directly on the center of my ass, until I did cry out. I immediately swallowed my tiny wail. Then, seconds later, KC stopped.
As my labored breathing subsided, the erotic heat in me began to build. With KC’s hand on my hot ass, I couldn’t stop the raging torrent. I squirmed to meet his sincere caress, quite sure that my body was taunting him to the same state of erotic need; but to my distress again, there was no sexual climax to this spanking.
Having raised my arousal to a torrid pitch, he abruptly pushed me off his lap and had me stand. “Turn around,” he said when I was on my feet. My ass to his face, he inspected the damage, his hand merely grazing the skin.
I wanted to beg for his touch but I wouldn’t dare.
“So. Tomorrow, you’ll be at the theatre at ten,” he reminded me. The order was coldly stated, and he started toward the door.
“That’s all?” I asked with a pitiful whine as I turned back to him. He knew what I wanted and knew what it meant denying me.
“Yes. That’s all today. I have work to do, and so do you. Pay attention to your butt, Ms. Henry. Might just teach you all sorts of things this afternoon.”
KC left me standing in the center of my office, bewildered once again. I was so in need of him, hating him for not screwing me on the spot that I almost failed to lower my skirt as he opened the door. Thankfully, I shook myself awake and quickly restored some decency.
***
In the morning, my journey to the theatre was much easier than any I’d made before. There seemed to be a certainty about our relationship that I now trusted. His thorough probing of my thoughts in my office had set me straight at last. Then his hands had done the rest of the work with both gentleness and the coarse severity required to discipline. I was no longer allowing myself the luxury of confusion. My mind was clear.
Going to the theater in compliance to his order, every desire for this uncommon lust engaged brutally in my loins—nothing held back now. I opened the door and the door gave way, and the blackness poured on me again. The place seemed to swallow me whole. I felt released.
KC met me inside the black box, and with a firm but comforting hand, led me to his apartment. I noted first that his bed was mussed with the look of erotic disorder as though he’d spent the night with a woman inside the messy sheets. Since KC took the lone chair for himself, his bed was the only place I could sit.
“Still scared?” he asked. He seemed much more pleasant than when he came to my office.
“Yes. Scared to death, but I am here.”
