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“You’re a very bad girl, Kelsey Anne,” he informed her. “And bad girls have to be punished. You’re going to get a good, hard spanking.” Placing one hand firmly on her lower back, he brought his hand down hard on her pert little bottom. Kelsey squealed, trying unsuccessfully to pull away. He smacked her again, admiring the reddening imprint of his hand on her skin. He could feel power radiating from his fingertips and tingling in his palms.
He continued to smack her, alternating between cheeks until they were both hot to the touch and cherry red. She continued to squirm and squeal, but he didn’t stop, a dark, wild force driving him on. His cock throbbed but he didn’t stop. She needed to be taught a lesson, and he was the man to teach her.
He struck her ass over and over until his hand was stinging from the impact. The struggle had finally gone out of her, and she was whimpering. James eased off the spanking, now lightly stroking her flaming ass cheeks.
What would it be like to fuck her freshly spanked ass? He ached to find out, but not with her wound still so fresh. No, he would be patient for the sake of his girl. Instead he pushed the chair back, carefully supporting Kelsey as he shifted the upper half of her body back onto the bed.
No, he wouldn’t fuck her yet, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t take his pleasure. Unable to resist a moment longer, James stood and yanked off his clothes. He fisted his pulsing cock and tugged at it with a groan.
Kelsey lay motionless on her stomach, her face hidden in a tangle of coppery tresses, her pretty bottom a lovely contrast in red to the white of her thighs and back. James stroked himself rapidly, the urgency of his need overwhelming him.
“Kelsey, Kelsey, my darling,” he murmured breathlessly as he brought himself quickly to orgasm. She didn’t move or respond, save for her steady, quiet whimpering. Within minutes he spurted ribbons of pearly-white ejaculate over her soundly-spanked ass. He touched the jism lightly with his fingers, swirling it in patterns over her hot, red ass cheeks. With a satisfied sigh, he sank onto the bed beside his girl. Glancing toward her leg, he saw that the wound had started to seep blood through the bandages.
Dismay nearly obscured the pleasure from his powerful orgasm. He reached toward her leg, lightly touching her wounded calf. “You silly girl,” he admonished gently, “you’ve made yourself bleed.”
~*~
James was snoring, a heavy arm thrown over Kelsey’s midriff. “James,” she whispered. No response. Carefully, oh so carefully, she began to inch away from beneath his arm, stopping in her progress every few seconds to make sure he was still sleeping soundly. Finally she managed to ease far enough from him that his arm flopped to the bed.
She held her breath.
He continued to snore.
Her leg didn’t hurt quite as much as it had. The sharp, shooting pains had eased into a steady, dull throb. Her bottom still stung from the spanking. But beyond the pain and humiliation of the spanking was the shock that it was happening at all. The whole time he was smacking her with his hard palm, she could feel the insistent bulge of his cock beneath her body. He clearly got off on this “good girl/bad girl” thing he’d worked up in his mind. At least he’d only jerked off over her, though that had been horrid enough.
Afterward he’d carried her in his arms to the bathroom and placed her gently in the tub. He’d cleaned her wound and then washed her hair beneath the faucet with loving attention. He’d insisted on feeding her again, this time a grilled cheese sandwich and a mug of tomato soup. While it was annoying as hell to have someone else feeding her, he seemed really tender and happy while he was doing it. It was impossible to reconcile his brutal behavior with his loving, if bizarre, ministrations afterward. She honestly didn’t know what to make of the man.
One thing she knew for sure—he was stark raving mad.
She glanced anxiously at James, who was still snoring softly, and then at the clock beside the bed. It was a little after three in the afternoon. She guessed he’d been asleep for nearly an hour. There was no telling when he’d wake from his little nap, or what dreadful things he had in store for her.
I have to get away. Get to a phone. Call 9-1-1.
This thought fueled her as she inched her way down the mattress. It seemed like hours, but she finally reached the bottom of the bed. Carefully she eased herself to the carpet, sinking to her knees. It was easier to crawl than to walk, and she moved as quietly as she could on her hands and knees, glancing back to the bed every few seconds.
