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“I hated them all. The wood scorched my ass and turned it red in seconds. It produced an almost unbearable fire on my skin by the time he was done. I hated it so much that I was relieved when he pulled me over his lap and spanked me with the palm of his hand like he would a child.
“I soon discovered that there was a direct correlation between his own emotional state and how he chose to discipline me. The formal chastisements were devoid of passion—clearly instructional. But if my behavior made him angry, I’d be over his lap for a brisk spanking. I did something that really annoyed him, however—if I got mouthy, or curt, or grouchy—trust me, that didn’t happen often—Rossi would back off, turn to ice, then bend me over and use the cane instead of the paddle.
“He never used leather.”
I sighed as my mind visualized that time…
She was almost at the point of breaking down, where the eyes burn, and it takes some concentration not to flood the face with the gathering tears.
“You have too much going on in your life, Miss Henry,” Rossi said as she stood before him in the study at his home. “I called Mrs. John, your supervisor at work, and rearranged your schedule. She was quite accommodating. You’ll only be working ten hours a week instead of twenty.”
“You did that!” she was appalled.
“Yes. You can’t handle more. I’d say you need to quit, but I know you seem to think you need the extra cash, so we’ll see if this works out. But… if the next two weeks don’t result in an improvement in your work, you’ll need to make some arrangements with your family trust to get your spending money from them.”
“I will not!” she almost stamped her foot.
“I’m afraid you will. We’ve gone too far to stop now. I have your commitment, Miss Henry, and I don’t appreciate your questioning my choices for you. I don’t make mistakes.”
“But…” she was livid, trying to hold back, though she wasn’t very successful in the attempt.
“There will be no quibbling over my decision. I make the rules and you follow them.”
“No! You’ve gone too far this time. You didn’t even consult me.”
“I don’t have to. I have your best interests at heart.”
“Sometimes I wonder.”
“You do not question me, Miss Henry!”
“Well I’m questioning you now.”
“And you should rethink that plan,” he said tersely.
She could see his anger rise the way dust rises around a snorting bull. In response, the roused young woman’s nostrils flared, and her eyes narrowed as the green hue darkened like smoldering embers.
But what had been fired in him seemed to suddenly slip from view. She quaked even more, as much from fright as anger. She’d never seen him this astoundingly taut—as a bowstring ready to snap. Her thighs quaked, panic setting in.
“Come with me,” he ordered, holding out his palm.
She could hardly move.
“Now, Miss Henry,” he said without raising his voice.
She tremblingly obeyed, finding that his grasp was not as cold as his eyes, or the expression on his handsome lips. It electrified her insides; and she could swear that her pussy was anxiously expectant of some sexual result.
He pulled her with him into the private study he used only rarely. She’d peeked inside just once, and noticed only now that it had been fitted with two devices made strictly for the punishment of a misbehaving woman. One was a low bench, complete with straps. The other was a bar, which conveniently hit her at the top of her thighs and allowed for some measure of comfort for a submissive woman. Rossi gave her a firm shove in the center of her back. “Step to the bar and grab the lower rail.”
She looked at him wonderingly, but he was unmoved by any attempt to enlist his sympathies. Doing as commanded, the once angered redhead turned docile and penitent. Struck by both fear and a swe
ep of erotic pleasure, she bent at the waist and reached low—almost to her feet where a smooth wooden bar was there for her to clutch. She held it tightly, seeing her knuckles turn white as her stranglehold increased with each anxious moment.
Her tight skirt took some tugging, which Rossi did himself. The feel of his hands aroused her more with the eroticism leaping frantically within, and yet, there would be no eroticism at all once he began her punishment. Efficiently pulling her white panties away, he let her naked ass enjoy the cool while he fiddled inside a cabinet and finally withdrew a sleek, thin, polished bamboo cane.
She winced, though the reaction registered more internally than externally.
Though he’d never used a cane on her behind before, she knew, just by his severe attitude that this would cut more deeply and burn more hotly than any punishment she’d known at his hand. Every muscle in her seemed to clench. Her rear cheeks drew tight, and the skin quivered imperceptibly. She grit her teeth and then closed her eyes.
