Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I had to fight it, didn’t I? I kicked again with my right leg, trying fruitlessly to use the momentum as a way to twist out of Christian’s grasp. He gave me three more hard slaps on the thighs, and I heard myself cry out, again the chastised puppy with her pitiful submissive noises, despite all the rebellion I felt inside.
“Get both feet on the floor,” he said grimly. “Present your bottom.”
The pain made me obey. With a sob, I returned my right foot to the carpet.
Christian put his hand on my ass and held it firmly. I felt how my naughty panties made my bottom available to him even while I still had them on. I had been twisting my head side to side as I struggled, but I couldn’t help looking once again at the reflection in the picture window, of the girl in her lacy lingerie with the billionaire standing over her. I watched Christian gaze down at my bottom as he fondled it, and with a rush of strangely mixed embarrassment and vanity I saw how the sight pleased him… how it made his dark eyes go even darker with hunger to do precisely what he had told his new fuck toy he would do.
“Bend your knees,” he instructed. “Arch your back and push this out. You earned this lesson, and it’s time for you to get it.”
Another sob burst from my throat. Something about the simple phrase get it had struck into my mind and heart.
You’re getting it… you’re getting what you deserve, at last.
Whimpering, I obeyed his orders. I felt how the humiliating posture presented my backside for discipline… for firm-handed guidance.
For much more, too, I couldn’t help thinking.
“Good girl,” Christian said, and this time I seemed to feel the full, terribly ambiguous importance of the words.
Then he started to spank my bare bottom.
CHAPTER 18
Leah
Christian punished me slowly and steadily, his hand rising and falling in a deliberate cadence, as if each spank represented the period of a wordless, reprimanding sentence. My body shook and my head went back with a yelp at each sharp blow.
I noticed first that it didn’t hurt as much as I had thought it would. Each spank’s sting rose and then fell a little before I felt his open hand return, never at first to the same spot. With a terribly ambiguous surge of emotion, a growing warmth in both my chest and in my cheeks, I understood beyond any doubt that Christian meant to train me with that slow pace; he wanted to teach me how to accept a spanking from a man who knew how to give one.
The glow of that idea spread, too; it seemed to join the heat that Christian’s firm hand on my bare bottom had started to raise down there. When he began gradually to quicken the pace, and to spank me in the same place twice and even three times in a row, it hurt more, yes, but it also made the warmth grow too.
“That’s it,” he said, so quietly I thought he must be speaking to himself. “That’s it, Leah. Take your punishment now.”
He stopped spanking for a moment. I felt him reach over my back and stroke my hair, wild and disheveled from the thrashing back and forth of my head. He smoothed it over my right shoulder, as if he wanted to see my face, and I had a hot flash of embarrassment at that: the man spanking me wanted to see my tears of repentance as they fell.
His left hand had relaxed a little on my wrists, so when my shoulders heaved at his caressing touch down my back, toying gently with my bra strap, I could wriggle a little to ease the tension in my arms.
“Is that better?” Christian asked, his voice soothing—even a little patronizing. Again I felt the twin glow of embarrassment and an affection. “You’re learning, aren’t you?”
“Oh, God,” I moaned. “Please… please…”
It took me long seconds, with his hand moving gradually downward until he held my bottom in it again, before I found any further words. When I uttered them, that possessive touch made them absolutely wrong even as I spoke.
“Please stop,” I whispered, but a sob of need rose, seemingly, all the way from my burning bottom into my lungs and out of my throat.
“Oh, no,” Christian murmured. “I’ve barely even started.”
I felt his fingers hook into the waistband of the lacy thong. I felt him start to pull it down. I cried out in protest, and I squirmed fitfully, but his left hand tightened its hold and bent my arms upward a little more, to keep me obedient. The panties offered no protection, of course, but the idea that Christian had waited until he decided to expose my pussy to his lustful gaze sent a jolt of humiliation through my system.