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“Everything,” I repeated.

He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and slid them down, making no effort to hide the thick swell of his cock.

His eyes ploughed into mine, and they were simmering; vicious and angry and clearly pissed off. I liked him that way. It would make hurting him taste all the fucking sweeter.

“What now?” he snapped. “Are you going to actually take charge or do I have to stand here like a prick all day?”

I pointed the cane at his desk. “Bend over, lie flat on your front.”

I scouted the contents of the case. Besides the paddle and cane, there was a skein of bondage rope, a set of handcuffs and a miniature swede flogger.

“That’s not all of it,” he said as he lowered himself onto the desk. “The rest is in a locker outside playroom four.”

“I think this will do for now.” I picked up the handcuffs and tested the key as he stared up at me, his bad attitude still written all over his face.

I threaded the handcuffs around the metal desk leg. “Wrists.”

He offered them out and I cuffed him into position. It was a beautiful stretch for a beautiful body. He was angled diagonally, his perfectly sculpted ass jutting out over the edge of the desk. He grunted as I reached under him to grip his cock. Easy access, what a bonus.

“Spread your legs,” I said.

Every one of his muscles was defined and tense, from the bulge of his calves to the glorious trunks of his thigh muscles.

“Are you going to fucking hit me, or just gawp all fucking day?”

I picked up the paddle. It was solid oak, nice and weighty. Just the quality I’d have expected from Andy Morgan. I ignored his question entirely.

“When did you last use this stuff?”

“Fuck knows. I hardly put it in the calendar,” he sneered.

“You’re not making this any easier for yourself. You know that, right?” I grazed the paddle across his ass cheeks. “I’m going to enjoy this, Andy. I think I may even get a taste for it.”

“You’re getting a little ahead of yourself, don’t you think?”

“We’ll see.” I stood to his side, smiling at the discovery that my knee was perfectly positioned to hook under and slam straight into his cock. I laughed as I demonstrated, applying just a little pressure. “I hope you’re feeling sufficiently vulnerable.”

“You’re wasting time,” he said. “We do havesomework to do before the day’s over.”

I trailed my fingernails down his spine. “We’ll do whatever I fucking say we’re going to do.”

I pinned him by the neck, forcing his cheek flat to the desk so I could enjoy the seeing pain on his face. I rested the paddle on the small of his back, and slid my thumb along the crack of his ass. I wriggled it when I found his tight little asshole, not enough to penetrate, yet still I felt him flinch. “Scared of a little thumb? Surely not,” I mocked.

“Piss off,” he said. “It’s been a fucking while.”

“You’re in luck,” I said. “I’ll have to fuck your ass another day. Today is all about the pain. You deserve everything you’re going to get.”

He opened his mouth to argue the toss, but grunted instead as the paddle landed. It landed hard, and made one hell of a thwack. His beautiful ass blushed pink.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” he sneered, but his teeth were gritted.

“Better? How about this?”

Rhythmic slaps, back and forth, cheek to cheek, and it felt fucking divine. He’d jump with every slap, at first; the tiniest little jerk as the paddle landed. His breathing quickened, but he didn’t make a sound, eyes closed and lips tight.

At first it was a horny little novelty, a simple pleasure at having won a tiny piece of ground from him, but the solid pulse of the paddle in my grip was intoxicating. It did something to me, something primal and dark. I felt a sizzle of life through my veins, a bloodlust I’d never before tapped, and I found myself grinning.

I hit him with everything I had, raining punishment all over his thighs. He kept it together like a trooper, breath even and face impassive, but for all his best intentions it was only a matter of time. When he finally let out the first pained yelp, it was sweet music to my wanting pussy.

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