Nine: Spanking
2526 Words
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My mouth fell open, a sharp loud exhale tearing from my throat as Aaron's rough fingers hooked into the hem of my dress, yanking it upward.
My stomach fluttered, that traitorous tingling anticipation curling deep in my gut, making my knees weak even as my mind screamed at me to hate this.
I loathed myself for the way my body responded, and for the way my pulse spiked not with fear alone, but with a sickening heavy-lidded need.
His grip clamped around my ankle, hauling my leg up, forcing my knee to rest on the polished mahogany of his desk.
He dragged me backward until my ass barely perched on the edge of the desk.
I felt the hard ridge of the wood digging into the soft flesh of my thighs, teetering on the brink of falling, completely dependent on his hold to keep me upright.
I tried to lift my head, to twist around and look at him, but before I could raise my chin more than an inch, his hand pressed between my shoulder blades and shoved me down, hard.
My cheek collided with the cold wooden surface of the desk, the impact stunning me for a second.
The chill seeped into my bones, shocking against my flushed skin, and I let out a pathetic high-pitched whimper that I barely recognized as my own.
"Let me go!" I forced the words out through clenched teeth, my jaw tight with the effort of speaking.
My breathing sounded ragged and harsh in the quiet room.
The heat in my stomach didn't dissipate. Instead it spread lower, a slow molten creep that settled right between my legs.
"Let me go or I'll scream!" I panted, struggling to buck my hips, to throw him off, but he was immovable.
Aaron leaned over me and a low dark chuckle rumbled through him.
The vibration traveled straight into my spine, shaking me to the core.
"Oh, you will," he murmured, his voice a silky rasp that scraped against my ear. "You'll scream, Seraphina. You'll beg, you'll cry, until your voice is gone. But you won't be screaming for help."
The words sent a cascade of cold shivers racing down my spine despite the heat blooming in my core.
My c**t twitched, pulsing with a sudden anticipation.
The threat in his tone was undeniable, but the promise underneath it was worse.
He knew exactly what my body was doing, exactly how wet I was becoming despite my protests. He was peeling back my layers, exposing the dark needy thing inside me that craved this rough handling.
"You bastardβ" The insult started as a hiss, meant to cut him, but it died the moment his rough hand slapped my ass hard.
Pain bloomed instantly across my backside, shocking my system.
I gasped, my hips jerking forward against the unyielding edge of the desk.
"You were saying?" His voice was a low rumble.
Rage flared, mixing with the throbbing ache settling into my skin.
I twisted my head, trying to catch a glimpse of him over my shoulder, my hair falling across my face.
"You assholβ"
The second smack landed before the sound fully left my lips.
It was harder this time, precision-targeted on the curve of my ass where the flesh was softest.
I cried out, a high broken sound that was half-scream, half-moan.
The pain didn't just stay on the surface. It shot inward, an electric current that bypassed my brain and went straight to my core.
"I suggest you watch that pretty mouth when you speak to me," Aaron murmured, his tone dropping into that dangerous silky register that made my stomach flip. "Put that pretty mouth to good use right now by counting."
He wanted me to count? To participate in my own punishment? The arrogance of it made my blood boil.
I squeezed my eyes shut, tears of frustration pricking the corners.
I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
"Go to hell," I spat, knowing what was coming, but my body still jolted when his palm connected with my skin again in a way that forced a whimper past my lips.
Before I could recover, Aaron's hand viciously tangled in my hair, gripping the thick strands tight, using them like a handle to yank my head back which forced out a whimper from my lips.
The position forced me to look up at the inverted line of the ceiling, cutting off my escape and forcing me to feel every inch of his dominance.
"Will you keep insulting me," he growled, his face right next to my ear, his breath hot and ragged against my neck, "or will you f*****g count?"
I could feel the hard length of him pressing against my thigh, proof that this was affecting him just as much.
Interesting.
I remained silent.
I wouldn't f*****g count or give him the obedience he craved.
Let him do his f*****g worst.
The thought of him doing his worst sent a pulse of heat straight to my p***y.
My n*****s tightened and a shiver raced across my skin despite the warmth of the room.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from making any sound that might betray me.
"You wanna be a f*****g brat?" His voice turned dark. "Fine. Let's see how long you last before you f*****g break."
Before I could draw breath to respond, he shoved my head back down then landed another harsh slap on my ass cheeks.
A sound escaped my lips, something between a yelp and a moan that I strangled immediately, teeth sinking into my lower lip hard enough to taste copper.
Aaron kept landing rough smacks again and again and again on my ass until I couldn't hold back the loud cries anymore.
My ass was practically on fire.
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over, and I squeezed them tighter, refusing to cry.
But I couldn't stop the sounds.
Each slap drew another cry from me, another involuntary vocalization that I'd never have made if I had any control left.
My body trembled and I could feel how wet I'd become.
Finally the strikes stopped.
"Are you going to count now or should I continue?" His voice came out rough and gritty, scraping against my ears.
It sounded like he was holding something back.
The thought made my stomach clench.
I swallowed hard, the tears I'd been fighting finally spilling over, tracking down my cheeks and dampening the surface beneath my face.
Everything hurt.
Everything burned.
And yet the emptiness I felt without his hand continuing its assault was almost worse.
"Y-Yes..." I choked out. "Yes. I'll count."
I could have sworn there was a devilish grin on his face right now. I was grateful my face was pressed against the cool wood of the desk. If I'd caught even a glimpse of that smug expression I'd have slapped it right off his face.
"Good. We'll start from one. And you'll thank me for each one. Understood?"
I barely nodded.
"Good girl," Aaron rumbled before his hand came down again.
"One," I gasped, the count torn from my throat before I could stop it. "Thank you... thank you, sir."
Another slap.
"Two. Thank you, sir."
Another slap.
"Three." My voice cracked. "Thank you s... sir."
"Thank you for what?"
"For punishing me sir." I whimpered as he landed another smack.
"Four. Thank you sir!"
"Ouch... Fou.... Five. Thank you sir."
The next slap came harder, probably to teach me a lesson for almost making a mistake.
"Six!" I sobbed. "Thank you sir."
My ass felt swollen and hot to the touch but the pain had transmuted into something that made my cunt pulse and weep, made me desperate for more even as I whimpered and squirmed.
"Seven. f**k. Thank you forβ ahβ thank you sir."
More tears streamed down my face.
"E-Eight.... P... Please...."
Please what? Please stop? Please never stop? I didn't know anymore. My mind was hazy, consumed by the dual sensations of pain and pleasure that had merged into one overwhelming tide.
"Nine." A broken sob. "Thank you, sir."
My thighs were drenched, cunt aching to be touched.
"Ten." I whimpered, the word escaping on a breathless gasp.
I lay there trembling, waiting for the next strike that didn't come.
My breath came in ragged pants as I cried into the desk.
I didn't even realize the spanking had ended until his hands gripped my arms and hauled me upright.
My legs were unsteady, barely able to support my weight. Before I could find my balance, he was guiding me, no, pushing me, backward until my bare ass met the cool surface of the desk.
I hissed at the contact, the polished wood sending a fresh wave of burning pain through my punished cheeks.
A wince slipped past my lips.
He stepped between my parted legs, positioning himself there like he owned the space between my thighs.
I was spread open before him, my soaked p***y pressed against the desk, my arousal leaving a wet smear on the wood.
The cool surface was a stark contrast to the inferno still blazing across my ass and I couldn't suppress a shudder.
My gaze tracked his movements as he reached down, picking up my panties.
He lifted them to his face and I watched, transfixed, as he inhaled deeply.
The groan that escaped him resonated in my chest, traveled down my spine, made my entire body quiver.
The sound of him breathing in my scent, the sight of his eyes drifting half-closed in obvious appreciation, was doing things to my body and I couldn't look away.
He tucked them into his pocket. When his eyes opened again they were so dark they'd swallowed the light entirely.
The hunger in that gaze was unmistakable, a predator's focus that made me think he might devour me right then and there.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry despite the moisture pooling between my legs.
Aaron's gaze dropped deliberately to the desk, tracking the evidence of my arousal.
A wicked smirk curled his lips, making him look like some sort of villain straight out of a psychological thriller who held all the cards and enjoyed watching the heroine squirm before he crushed her.
"Look at your p***y getting my desk all wet and dirty," he murmured, his voice a dark rumble that seemed to vibrate through my chest and settle directly in my c**t. "So you liked being punished?"
"Noβ"
The word barely left my lips before his fingers wrapped around my throat, leaning down before he brought his lips to the shell of my ear, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine.
"Your p***y says otherwise," he whispered, his large hand encircling my neck, his thumb pressing against my pulse point.
"I would have given you a reward, Seraphina. I would have spread these thighs wide and eaten that cunt like it's never been eaten before. I would have lapped up every drop of this filthy mess you made." He paused, letting the image sink in, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of my earlobe. "I would have sucked on your c**t until you were screaming, f****d you with my tongue until you couldn't breathe, drowning in your own c*m while you begged me for more."
The images flashed in my mind, his head buried between my legs, his mouth working me open.
A copper tang of blood bloomed on my tongue as I sank my teeth into the soft flesh of my plump lip.
The thought of him devouring me, consuming me whole, was almost enough to make me c*m right there untouched.
I bit down harder.
"But brats don't deserve rewards," Aaron reached up, his grip on my throat loosening just enough to allow movement, and he pulled my bottom lip free from my teeth.
His thumb traced the length of the swollen abused flesh, the rough pad of his finger dragging over the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
My lips parted instinctively, a shaky exhale escaping, ghosting over his hand.
I was trembling, my entire body vibrating with the need for him to touch me.
The sharp shrill ring of the office phone made me flinch, my heart hammering against my ribs as the color drained from my face.
Aaron didn't even look startled. He simply stretched his arm out past my head, his body still wedged firmly between my open legs, his hips pinning me effectively to the desk.
His expression changed instantly, the wicked lustful hunger vanishing behind a mask of serious cold professionalism. He lifted the receiver, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Yes, Stella?"
I held back a frown at that name.
He listened to whatever she was saying, his eyes never leaving my face.
Then without a polite dismissal, his hand simply opened.
The receiver slipped from his fingers and clattered against the desk, the dial tone buzzing.
The hand that had been loosely circling my throat flexed. His fingers dug into my skin, pressing just hard enough to restrict the flow of air, making my heartbeat thrum against his fingertips.
He hauled me upward, dragging my torso across the wood until my face was inches from his.
"I have a meeting in ten minutes," he said, the words vibrating against my lips.
The warmth of his breath, that smoky whiskey-laden exhale, washed over my mouth, tempting me to have a taste of him again.
"And you're coming with me as my personal assistant." He continued.
I blinked, my vision swimming from the lack of oxygen and the sheer proximity of him.
"And what am I supposed to be doing there with you?" My voice was barely audible.
A dark arrogant smirk curled the corner of his mouth while his thumb stroked the side of my neck.
"Notes," he answered. "You will take notes for me."
Before I could formulate a response, he crashed his lips against mine.
His mouth was hard, demanding, crushing my lips against my teeth.
He forced my head back, angling my jaw to deepen the assault, his tongue sweeping in to claim every inch of my mouth with ruthless efficiency.
The hand on my throat squeezed rhythmically, cutting off my air in time with the thrust of his tongue.
I couldn't breathe or think. I could only feel the rough scrape of his stubble against my chin and the relentless pressure of his mouth.
His mouth devoured mine, stealing the oxygen from my lungs and replacing it with his own intoxicating essence.
There was no gentleness, only a desperate bruising need.
He bit my lower lip before soothing the hurt with a sweep of his tongue.
The taste of copper mingled with the alcohol.
My body arched off the desk.
He pulled back just enough to speak, his lips still brushing against mine, swollen and wet. His breath came in ragged gusts, matching my own panting.
He stared into my eyes, his gaze dark and wild, boring into my soul.
"What have you f*****g done to me?"
- Writer
