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He continued punishing the entirety of my bottom. When he’d thoroughly spanked every inch of my vulnerable backside, he continued down my thighs. I attempted to keep my legs closed, but it was a useless endeavor to even try.
I couldn’t keep quiet when he punished me there, and before long I was crying out loudly with every strike. Searing hot fire burned across the backs of my thighs and I keened, trying desperately to avoid the painful punishment, but his spanks met their mark every time. There were a few times that I spread my legs a little wider than I meant to, and his fingers spanked the inner curves of my thighs, which burned with a terrible agony more intense than all the rest.
My breath hitched in the back of my throat. I tried to normalize my intake of air, but as the spanking wore on, the harder it became. I moaned with every spank, and at that point it became more overwhelming than I could handle and I started to cry. One single tear rolled down my cheek, followed by another and another until they were dripping off my chin onto the stage beneath me. I sobbed and still the spanking wore on.
I could scream or cry or call for help, but no one was going to save me. The only person who could stop this was the man dealing out the punishment himself.
Silas had complete control over me. No one else.
It hurt so much and as it continued, I realized that wasn’t the worst of it. My body had betrayed me in the most shameful way, and I couldn’t make it stop.
I was soaking wet. I didn’t know why. Maybe there was something wrong with me. Maybe it was his rough manhandling or maybe it was because he was the first man who had stood against me and not backed down. I should hate this. I should cuss him out as soon as he let me up, but I knew I wasn’t going to. I bit my lip, trying not to focus on the terribly insistent pulsing between my legs. It was impossible though.
“In my world, Miss Chloe Banks, when a little girl is sassy, she is reminded of her place immediately, no matter where she is or who is there to see,” Silas purred, and I was mortified at the way his words made my core clench with need.
I moaned with embarrassment, wondering if he could see the wetness between my thighs. Even worse, the possibility that everyone else could see my arousal came over me and I bit my lip in shame.
“You’re a monster,” I retorted.
He punished my thighs exclusively after that. I cried out with one apology after another, quickly regretting my choice of words. My toes hammered into the floor of the stage and I couldn’t stop myself from sobbing even harder.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,” I wept.
“You were a sassy little girl, weren’t you?” he said softly.
“Yes, sir,” I cried out, somehow knowing that if I didn’t answer him, things would turn from bad to worse. His palm cracked hard against my bottom several more times, leaving me in a world of agony that threatened to tear me apart.
I don’t know why I called him that. Before I could think about it, the words had fallen off my lips and I couldn’t take them back. Silas didn’t give me very long to worry about it however as he curved his hand and punished the curve at the tops of my thighs, his fingers landing dangerously close to my pussy and I cried out from the scalding hot bite of his cruel hand.
“Please, I’m sorry, sir,” I begged.
I thought it would never end. In a form of acceptance, my body slumped over the stool and I no longer fought each searing spank. He burned the message into my scalded backside with several more punishing smacks to the backs of my thighs as I muttered one apology after the next.
“Spread your legs. Show the audience the glistening wetness between your thighs. Show them what I have seen since I bared your pretty little bottom before your spanking even began,” he demanded.
My face heated with shame. I was sure that the brilliant scarlet that painted my cheeks matched the bright red of my punished backside. Nervous that the spanking would continue if I disobeyed him, I slowly spread my thighs, exposing what I now knew he’d seen all along.
“Arch your back, sassy girl,” he instructed, and I did just that.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” I pleaded, trying once more to earn his mercy however unlikely it seemed. His strong hand still held me in place and even though I wanted to hate it, that constant connection between us felt comforting. I tried to ignore it.
“I know you are, little girl, but this lesson is far from over,” he scolded, and a harsh shudder raced down my spine. I found it hard to breathe and I worried about what he had planned for me next.
The fingers of his other hand traced along my scalded flesh, exploring the heat he’d painted there himself. He started at the cusp of my bottom, continuing down the backs of my legs and slowly venturing closer to the sensitive area between my thighs. His fingertips felt like sandpaper on my punished flash, his touch feeling as painful as it was pleasurable. I whimpered nervously when his fingertips finally glided along the wetness that had slickened my inner thighs and I went completely silent as he used two fingers to slide along the outer folds of my pussy, a teasingly soft touch that made me gasp at its brazen forwardness.
I shivered with a jolt of arousal far stronger than anything I’d ever felt before in my life. I wasn’t a virgin. I’d been with a few men during the course of my life, but none of them had ever inspired a desire in me like this. This was different.
This felt almost primal.
I shouldn’t want him, not after he’d bared me and punished me in front of everyone here, but I did. My body was burning for him and the more he touched me, the more I feared that it was only going to get worse.
I wanted to come. Right here. Over this stool.
I couldn’t focus on anything other than the pulsing desire between my legs that was practically begging for his touch.
Beneath my top and safely encased in my bra, I could feel how hard my nipples were. They were so sensitive that it was almost painful to have anything touching them at all. My clit was throbbing and as he dragged those two digits up and down my wet folds, I rolled my hips shamefully in tune with his movements. He pinched them just the slightest bit, using the sides of those fingers to tease and taunt me, and I had no idea how much longer it would take for me to plead for release at his touch. I feared at this rate it would take no time at all.
When he touched my needy bud for the first time, I moaned so loudly that I had no doubt that everyone heard it. My blush deepened. I gripped the rung I was holding onto so hard that it hurt, and I put everything in me in trying to push away the rampaging desire that was surging through my veins. I thought of cold showers, of not having enough money to pay the electricity bill that month, but no matter what I put my mind to, it always turned back to him. His fingers between my thighs were polarizing and although I tried to fight what he was doing with every last fiber of my being, it was utterly useless.
