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“You need to know that I’m a man of my word, little girl,” he began, and I wrung my hands together in front of me.
“I believe you. You don’t need to spank me after all,” I backpedaled. I couldn’t take my eyes off his massive hands. My mouth had gone dry.
As nervous as I was, my pussy was very much alive. My clit was pulsing hard and as I stood there and squirmed, my thighs rubbing against one another, I knew that I’d soaked through my panties.
His fingers squeezed mine.
“You need a spanking and I’m going to give you one, Cami. Now lift your dress. Naughty girls get their bare little bottoms spanked and you were naughty, weren’t you?” he scolded.
“I got ready on time,” I pouted softly.
“You did, but you were late on purpose. I told you what would happen, but you decided to be late anyway just to test me. Is that right, Cami-girl?” he pressed.
“Yes. That’s right,” I mumbled, feeling smaller by the second.
“Tell me what needs to happen, little girl,” he pushed.
“I need you to spank me,” I whispered. My voice was so soft that it was barely audible. My face was as hot as a furnace, and I wished for that black hole again.
“Lift your dress to your waist,” he instructed, and I nervously reached for the hem. I lifted it painfully slowly, blushing harder with every inch that I exposed myself. When I’d pulled it up to my belly button, he took it gently and tucked it under the cinched waist. It stayed up and I whined, covering my face with my hands.
“These pretty pink panties need to come down too, don’t they, naughty girl?” he said firmly, and I stepped side to side anxiously. His fingers grazed my hips, and his touch made the air rush out of my lungs in a single loud whoosh.
“I guess so,” I murmured shyly.
Last night, he’d taken down my panties when I’d been over his knee. This way seemed so much more embarrassing because he’d be able to see all of me. He’d be able to see that my pussy was bare because I liked it that way. I knew I was wet already. Would he see that too? Would he like that?
Would I?
His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of my panties, and he started to lower them very slowly. I expected him to keep his eyes on mine as he took them down, but he didn’t. He stared right at the cusp of my thighs as he exposed me, which made the whole thing that much worse.
He took his time and as every second passed, my shameful arousal grew hotter. I struggled to draw in one breathy pant after another as he drew my panties down my thighs, past my knees, and then down to the floor.
“Step out of them,” he directed. I used his shoulder for balance as I took out one foot and then the other, holding my underwear in my hands awkwardly.
“Show me the seat of your panties, little girl,” he demanded, and I whimpered as a drop of arousal rolled down my thigh.
“What?” I asked breathlessly, trying to convince myself that I’d misheard him.
“Show me the seat of your panties. I want to see how wet your little pussy made them,” he repeated, and I mewled in surprise. For a moment, I froze, and his palm slapped my right bottom cheek.
“You can’t mean that,” I breathed nervously. He couldn’t know how turned on I was right now. Showing him my wet panties would leave no doubt in his mind.
He slapped my left cheek and I gasped at the sting.
“You’re about to get a spanking, little girl. You will do as you’re told unless you want one like you got last night,” he warned and I squirmed, pressing my thighs together in hopes that I’d at least be able to hide the rampant wetness that was probably glistening on my skin.
Without saying another word, I rushed to situate my panties so that the seat was shown off like he wanted. The rose pink was stained dark with my wetness and as I presented them to him, I swallowed hard. My face felt like I’d stuck it straight in a bonfire.
“You’re very wet, little girl,” he observed out loud and that made it all very real.
He knew I was aroused. I closed my eyes, wanting to die and come all at the same time.
He took my hand and slowly pulled me over his thighs. I went willingly as he guided me over his lap, thankful at least for the small mercy that I was face down now, and he could no longer see my face.
His palm only just touched my bottom, rubbing over it gently several times before he squeezed it firmly enough to sting just a hair. I bit my lip in an effort to keep quiet. His hand lingered and his fingers grazed along the wetness on my thighs. My legs parted just slightly. My body wanted to give him access and it took several moments for me to realize what I’d done. My face flushed so hot that I thought it might melt.
He pulled his hand away.
