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“One day, I’m going to fuck this pretty little bottom hole simply because I can,” he murmured, and a jolt of electricity sizzled right to my clit. My pussy clenched tight and so did my bottom, eliciting a delighted and rather malicious sounding chuckle from his lips. He leaned over me and brushed his lips against my ear. “Do you want to know something, my sweet?”
I cried out into the fabric of my panties.
“I’ve been watching your little pussy this whole time. You became much, much wetter when I touched this little virgin bottom hole for the very first time,” he purred.
How did he know no one had ever touched me there? I wanted to hide. I wanted a black hole t
o open up and swallow me whole. I shouldn’t get wetter. Him touching me there felt dirty and so filthy that it had to be wrong.
Then why was it turning me on?
He slipped his finger from my bottom, leaving me to grapple with the terrifying realization that getting fingered in my ass had made me aroused enough to want more. I knew what a cock in my pussy felt like, but what would it feel like in my bottom hole? Would I like it? Would it hurt just as much as his finger had?
“Your bottom is gorgeous, Zoe. It’s going to be even more beautiful when I spank it bright red and then mark it with my belt,” he mused.
I’d gotten so caught up in the feeling of his finger violating my bottom hole that I’d forgotten all about his initial threat. I squirmed a bit against the desk and his grip around my wrists tightened, holding me in place.
His other hand returned to my backside, cupping my right bottom cheek.
“I’m going to enjoy this very much, Zoe. It is my firm belief that a wife needs to be reminded of her place with a bright red bottom from time to time, and I’m looking forward to doing exactly that, both over my desk and over my knee, many, many times to come,” he growled, and I whimpered into my panties, tasting my own arousal once again.
I tried to lift myself up and his hand slapped against my ass for the first time.
It didn’t hurt. Not at first. In fact, the most jarring thing was how loud it was. It was loud enough to rival a gunshot, or at least that’s what it felt like, and before I knew it another followed on the other side.
He paused and traced over the area he’d smacked.
“Watching the very first shades of pink blossom on your bottom for the first time is something I’m going to cherish for a very long time, bride,” he observed, and I tried to press my thighs together to hide just how much his words continued to arouse me. He didn’t allow it.
A third spank cracked against my bottom and that’s when it started to hurt. He started spanking me more quickly now. His palm was broad, and with every smack the sting started to build. At first, it was simply warm, punctuated by hard cracks of his hand against my skin. As the spanking went on, though, that warmth built, becoming hotter until it truly began to burn.
The feeling of his palm against my bottom was so intimate, so domestic that my core twisted hard with desire. It was punishing, but at the same time it was so very, very arousing.
My pussy clenched down hard as he spanked me harder. It stung even more, a blazing fire that swiftly spread across the entirety of my backside the longer it went on.
I wanted to tell him to stop.
I wanted to tell him to spank me harder.
I didn’t do either.
His palm punished every inch of my bottom, from the upper parts of my cheeks to the lower curves of my ass, all the way down to the tops of my thighs. For several terribly long moments, he focused on my thighs. Those hurt the most, the sting building faster than all the rest. The more he smacked there, the more I began to fear that he actually meant to punish me.
I wanted to beg for mercy, but the taste of my own arousal was still fresh on my tongue.
He released my hands.
“Put your hands in front of you,” he commanded softly, and I could have sworn I felt each word pulse in my bones. Hesitantly I pulled my hands forward, knowing I couldn’t quite reach the other side of his desk. I elected to pull my arms under my chest instead.
“Good girl,” he murmured.
My heart pounded and a pulse of arousal zinged my clit.
“Such a wet little pussy on a very pretty girl with a very pink bottom. I wonder how much wetter it’ll get when her bottom is bright red,” he added.
My pussy clenched tight, and I whined in shame, wondering if he could see how much of an effect his words were having on me. My embarrassment only seemed to intensify my arousal, and when he returned to spanking me I almost welcomed it.
This time, his palm was harder. I felt it deeper, every smack reverberating across my bottom and settling deep in my core. With each one, my inner walls clenched greedily, desperately aching to be filled and somewhere something inside me clicked.
