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Before I can even move he adds, “And spread your legs.”
Oh. My. God.
I can sense his body backing away, giving me room so that when I bend my ass doesn't make contact with his groin.
My palms find the top of his desk and then I hear the unmistakable sound of a belt buckle unclasping followed by the whoosh of leather through loops.
I turn just as he’s finished folding the belt in half, yanking it tight. The snapping sound it makes causes me to flinch and blink at the same time.
“Wider,” he says, the outside of his heel touching the inside of mine.
I assume the position, bending my body more and sticking my ass up in the air.
“Take your hands off the top of the desk and grab the edge real tight, unless you want a busted lip. I don’t want you face-planting into hundred-year-old hardened oak.”
I do as I’m told, facing forward and bracing myself for his hand. I’ve never done anything with a boy before, ever, and here I am my ass in the air ready to be spanked for my transgressions by a man, and one helluva real one at that.
“Tell me you can’t handle it and it doesn’t go any further.”
“Would it really matter? Would it actually stop you?”
“Sassy to the very end. At least you’re consistent.” He pauses before continuing. “Three minutes late. Three spanks.”
I can smell my own arousal, feel the moisture dripping from me, as I swallow hard.
“You’re my naughty girl, aren’t you, little one?”
I whimper, but say nothing, just brace myself for the impending blow.
“Say it. Say you’re my naughty little girl…” His words trail off as if there’s something else on his mind. A way to punctuate the end of the sentence with one more word that gives it the full stop it needs. “Say it,” he grunts.
“Uh huh.”
“Words, not noises,” he counters, his words laced with a kind of verbal need I don’t recognize.
“I’m your naughty little girl…” I get caught on the end of the sentence myself, but before I can figure out what else it needs I hear his belt jingle as he throws it into his empty chair and then feel the full weight and authority of his palm as it connects with my cheeks.
My body lurches forward and I find that word I was looking for, almost as if he’s knocked it out of me.
“Daddy!”
Just as I’m expecting a second slap the room completely silences.
“What did you say?”
“I’m your naughty little girl,” I repeat, as my stomach does somersaults and the release of that one final word feels like the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders, even though the weight of a gigantic man has been transferred through torque and via his hand directly against my bottom.
“The last part. The final word. Say it again.”
“Daddy.”
“What did you call me?”
“Daddy,” I say, this time with more authority.
He growls, and I feel his other hand knife into my hair, yanking my head back just before his hand comes crashing down on my backside for a second time, causing what looks like a very expensive lamp to fall from his desk and crash to a million pieces.
I yelp, and he leans in, biting my earlobe and pressing his rock hard erection against the side of my hip as I catch myself actually sticking my ass out farther, demanding his touch, just as he obliges and the third spank finds my ass.
