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The soft globes were creamy and pristine, a blank canvas waiting for an artist to decorate with pinks and reds, and possibly darker hues. Suspecting it was anentirelyuntouched canvas added an extra note of interest. If he did not want to discourage further exploration on her part, he would need to carefully tread the line between pain and pleasure—punishing her enough to be effective, but not so much she dampened her natural inclinations.
“Is this your first spanking?” he asked, almost conversationally.
There was a little pause, and he stilled his movements, waiting for her answer.
“I… yes.” Her voice was soft, low. Unsure but eager. It was a tone he was highly familiar with from newer members of the Society, those who had the desire but had never participated.
“Do you understand why you are being punished?” His hand moved across her bottom, and he felt her shiver in response. His cock was achingly hard, pressed into her side. Rex had never particularly cared about his partner’s level of experience. There were different delights to be found, from a novice to a practiced participant and all the variations in between. What he wanted, what moved him, was howeagerhis playmate was. From everything he could tell, Miss Wilson was hesitant but desiring.
“Yes.”
“Tell me.” He stroked his hand over her bottom, fingers brushing just a little lower until he felt the barest hint of her curls, then retreating.
“Must I?” She squirmed on his lap, for the first time seeming she might try to escape, but he pressed down on her lower back, pinning her down, and felt her still—not the stillness of fear, but the stillness of a woman who had felt the dominance of her lover and submitted to it.
Hartford landed two small slaps, barely stinging, to her bottom—one to each upturned cheek. She let out a little gasp of shock, and this time, when she squirmed, it was not because she was trying to get away. As Rex had suspected, a little taste whet her appetite. Her bottom lifted, a silent request for ‘more.’
“In order for a punishment to be truly effective, the receiver must understand why they are being disciplined.” He patted his fingers gently against the pinked skin he had just slapped. “So, Miss Wilson, tell me why you are being punished.”
She squirmed again when he said her name, the formality of his address while she was over his lap with her skirts up around her waist, affecting her as much as feeling his hand touch her skin.
“Because I snuck into your house and… and invaded the privacy of your guests.” The words came out in a rush, only slightly tinged with regret.
Rex grinned.
“Very good, Miss Wilson. I think twenty slaps should do it.”
“Twenty?” she gasped, squirming again. He firmed his grip on her hip, holding her securely against him.
“To each cheek.” He raised his hand and brought it down with a satisfying slapping sound, his cock jerking with appreciation. Miss Wilson bucked against him, but she did not have time to shriek before his hand was descending again, landing with similar vigor on her opposite cheek. Both swats were much harder than the first little taps he had given her, and when she did find her voice again, she let out a lovely shriek that made him smile broadly.
Perfect.
Mary
That bloody hurt!
So much more than the two he had laid down when she’d questioned him. Those had stung almost pleasurably, making her cheeks and insides feel a little warm. By contrast, the short, crisp swats he was now peppering her bottom with were biting, painful, burning slaps. Was his hand made of wood?
“Ow! Ow! Stop, please!”
To her shock, the spanking immediately ceased. Hanging over his lap, panting for breath, tears stung the backs of her eyes. How many swats had that been? Five? Six? And he wanted to do twenty to each side of her poor bottom?
Yet the moment he stopped, a feeling of emptiness opened up inside her, as though she had been promised some delicious treat only to have it taken away after one small nibble. But a spanking was not a delicious treat. It hurt! So why did she feel so denied?
“I can stop now,” Hartford said, his hand coming to rest on her bottom again, his palm even warmer. He rubbed the spot he had been spanking, and a shocking ripple of warmth spread through her core, making her insides clench. “I can stop, escort you to the door, and send you off… and you will never know more.”
Never know more.
Never be invited back. Never know what put that expression of contentedness on so many faces she had seen tonight. Never feelhishands on her again.
Something clogged her throat, but she could not possibly tell him to continue… could she?
“Be brave, petal.” His voice was a whisper, fingers gliding over the skin of her bottom, promising pleasure. The sting had already receded. Surely, she could withstand one spanking in return for… more. “Be brave, and you will have everything you need.”
Mary’s insides quivered, and her bottom tilted up, silently begging for his hand again.
“I need to hear the words, petal.” There was a note of sternness that did not entirely cancel out the gentle quality of his tone. “Tell me to continue.”
