The first time he ordered me to lie over his lap, I laughed in his face. The second time, I quickly obeyed. I never make the same mistake twice.
It all started with two little words. Life-altering words that I would soon realize I didn’t even mean. Words that came from the frustration of always seeing the problem, but never realizing a solution. And, maybe, just seeking a little attention.
I spat the words at Deo in the middle of what should have been a knock-down-drag-out yell till someone left the room fights, but wasn’t. How could it be when it was always me doing the yelling and stomping off, and Deo standing with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed, his lips compressed in a thin line, saying, “Cassandra, be reasonable,” but never raising his voice.
On that day, with those two words, I finally broke through Deo’s calm external barrier. I’m leaving. I couldn’t take it anymore. The fights, the silent nights, the walking around each other on imaginary eggshells. Worse were the mornings after when we would politely move around each other in the kitchen, never touching. Sitting, pouring coffee, and reading the paper together, like strangers.
I was leaving. I was going to divorce my husband. After months of our passionate dance, I was closing the curtain. At least I said I was. It never crossed my mind, even for a second, that Deo would not allow it, much less that he would change the course of our very existence.
Deo spoke, his tone unfamiliar and deathly quiet. “Excuse me?” His dark eyes flared, and he took a step toward me.
“I’m leaving,” I said, with less confidence than before, stepping away from him.
His words were almost a growl. “You think you are leaving this house?”
My husband, who had become normal, maybe even a little boring to me, in the mundane routine of our everyday lives, seemed to transform in front of me into a stranger.
Deo’s name meant ‘godlike’, and his looks lived up to it. Tall and muscular with olive skin, his facial features looked like they had been carved with a chisel. And his hair. God, that hair. Almost black, he wore his dark locks long, but swept back, framing his strong brow, charcoal eyes, and dark lashes. He wore a full beard that he kept short, close to his face, outlining his sculpted jaw. A look of incredulous disbelief overtaking him, Deo’s striking features now made him appear as a menacing Greek god.
“You think you are leaving me?”
“Yes,” I managed to choke out, trying to hold my head high and putting my hands on my hips for good measure. I really thought I meant business at the time. “Be reasonable, Deo,” I said, turning the familiar condescending words onto him.
Another step was taken in my direction. “Is it I who is unreasonable?” he asked, his voice dripping with venom, his finger pointed toward my face. “You made a vow to me. You took an oath. Till death do us part, yet, we are both still standing here.” He took another step toward me, not rushing, not in any way threatening, and yet I could feel my heart begin to pound in my chest.
Backing up, my shoulders jarred into the wall behind me. I braced myself against it. Deo had never lifted a finger to me, so why was I scared? In the bedroom, he was always gentle, even when I wanted something more. Some unnamed thing. Something missing. Something I craved. It seemed as if he was afraid of hurting me. But not now. His eyes were fixed on me with a look of determination that I’d never seen before. Shaking my head to clear it, I struggled to remember what I’d been saying. Right… I was leaving.
Lifting my arms and shrugging my shoulders, I argued, “We’ve been screaming at each other for ages. Aren’t you tired of it?”
“Tired?” Moving slowly, he continued toward me, stopping only inches from my face, my breath catching in my throat as he raised one arm above my head. Placing his open palm flat against the wall next to me, his strong arm blocked me in. His other hand reached up to wrap around my throat, his fingers encircling my flesh. With only the grasp of his fingers and his body surrounding me, I was pinned to the wall.
He was so much larger, taller, stronger than me. With one squeeze, he could end my life. I should be terrified. I wasn’t. I felt a thrill run through me. A sensation I didn’t recognize coursed through my veins. A rush of heat had my skin growing hot. The look in his eyes was mesmerizing, calling for me to surrender. It was a look of a predator who knew that he had his prey exactly where he wanted. A look that told me in no uncertain terms that this was not like any disagreement or spat we’d ever had. No, this was a look of steel that informed me that I was not in charge… a look of absolute authority that suffused every cell in my body. A product of Deo’s sudden dominance over me.
“Let me tell you what I am tired of, little girl,” his voice rasped into my ear.
I gasped as he leaned closer, tilting my chin up with his hold and forcing me to connect with his hard, dark eyes.
“I am tired of your screaming. I am tired of your games. I am tired of you acting like a child.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” I said. “People get married, they fight, they get divorced. It’s the norm nowadays.”
“You made a vow.”
“I repeated random words printed on a piece of paper,” I retorted but suddenly couldn’t catch my breath, though the grip he had on my throat didn’t tighten. I knew my eyes had gone wide even as my vision began to darken before I attempted to move further back, to press through the wall, to hide from the presence of a shadow, red eyes floating in blackness, that appeared over Deo’s shoulder.
“No! Those words are sacred and will not be thrown aside.” Deo’s counter brought me back, froze the whimper of fear before I could utter it as I realized that it had to be nerves causing me to see things as the kitchen was bright again. The only presence before me was a tall, pissed-off Greek man.
“I have stood by long enough, giving you your way, thinking—praying even—you would mature. It was my mistake. And I take full responsibility.”
Suddenly, I was rendered as speechless as a lawyer when new evidence is presented during the middle of a trial. To my colleagues, I am nothing short of a powerhouse. At thirty-four, Deo was a decade older than me, but that didn’t explain how it could be that he felt he could compare me to a child. And yet, for some reason, that wasn’t what was causing me the most conflict. What I couldn’t explain, what I had no words for, was the shame I was feeling for the way his forceful tone was causing my insides to melt.
With a final squeeze that caused my heart to stutter, he said, “Today, it begins.” Releasing his grip, he ran his fingertips down the column of my neck before his arm returned casually to his side.
My back pressed into the wall, my knees weak, my mind was having a difficult time moving from the dichotomy of his fingers wrapped like steel around my throat to the gentle, slow caress of those same fingers as he trailed them across my skin. It took several moments before my tongue came to life. “What begins?” I asked intrepidly. I was too intrigued by his words and intimidated by his demeanor to even begin to lay into him about his assessment of me.
His eyes softened. “Discipline. You lack discipline, my sweet.” The tips of his fingers trailed over my bottom lip. Gently, his index finger brushed underneath my chin, closing my gaping mouth.
A shiver ran down my spine, there were chill bumps on my arms, and the hairs on my head tingled, and yet it felt as if the temperature in the room had risen ten degrees. Heat rushed through me in waves. Without thinking, I closed the distance between our mouths, pressing my lips to his.
Withdrawing from my kiss, Deo placed his hand on the center of my chest and pushed me back until my shoulder blades hit the wall with a thump.
“I thought you were leaving.” His eyes flashed, and a forbidding smile crossed his face.
Confusion swallowed me. I should be insulted by his throwing my words back into my face. I should have slapped him, not kissed him, but suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to stay and have this new version of Deo carry me off to our room, to do dark, delicious things to me.
“I-I am… I was,” I stuttered out, trying to salvage what remained of my dignity. The intensity of his gaze was too much. I looked away, down at the hand that felt like it was burning into the center of my chest. I was feverish—everywhere. The truth tumbled from my tingling lips. “I was just… testing you, I guess.”
“You aren’t going anywhere.”
Deo brought his mouth to mine, pushing my head against the wall. The kiss was hard, and there was a message behind it that I couldn’t quite read—hunger mixed with anger and a touch of desperation. When he pulled away, I was left breathless, my lips feeling bruised. I wanted more. I wanted him to press me up against the wall and take me. No. That wasn’t right. I was desperate for him to possess me… claim me. To fuck me.
Instead, Deo pulled away. Giving me one last, cold stare, he grabbed my hand. Without a word of explanation, he led me through the dark halls of our massive house. The clicking of my high heels across the marble floor was the only sound as we made our way. My stomach twisted with nerves when I realized he was not leading me upstairs. Instead, he didn’t pause until we reached the heavy door at the end of the hall. The one that led to his office.
I had only been allowed in Deo’s office a handful of times. Opening the door with one hand, he led me to the center of the room. Releasing his hold on me, he left me standing alone on the Persian carpet. He walked to the massive mahogany desk, pulling out his rolling antique chair. Opening a drawer in the credenza behind him, Deo removed a crisp white envelope, turning to toss it onto the desk. Disgust lined his face as the paperwork landed with a smack. Hands pressed against the polished surface on either side of the envelope, he simply said, “Our vows.”
Standing dumbly in the middle of the room, I began to shift my weight and fidget. Suddenly, I pictured myself as a naughty schoolgirl brought before the principal. Why was I in trouble? This was ludicrous. A grown woman tells her husband she’s leaving. It’s that simple. Everyone does it. In fact, over half the women in my firm had divorced their husbands. But why did I suddenly feel powerless in the situation? My usual lawyer tendency to argue did not appear. I was intimidated by Deo’s… What? Anger? No, he wasn’t angry, he hadn’t shouted or even raised his voice. His determination? For what? To make me feel like I was an ungrateful, selfish wife? No. Again, that did not fit.
Yes, that was exactly it. The moment I’d spoken those two little words, my husband had changed before my very eyes. He seemed stronger… darker. An odd feeling of submission washed over me, gluing my mouth shut.
Taking a seat in the chair, Deo leaned his elbows on the desk. His tone even, he asked me, “Do you need to read them?”
“No,” I whispered, clasping my hands in front of me and turning the toes of my feet inward. I remembered, well, that day the vows were exchanged. Head over heels in love, I’d pledged my life to my husband. Dressed in a dark suit, Deo standing, stoic, at the altar, tears forming in his eyes at the sight of me in my wedding gown came to my mind’s eye. It was one of my favorite memories.
Deo sat back in his chair, eyeing me casually. Clasping his hands together, fingers entwined, he brought them toward his face. “Take off your shoes,” he commanded, his index fingers moving to press against each other, pointing at me like a gun.
I obliged. One by one, the black Christian Louboutin patent leather peep-toe pumps with the five-inch heels hit the carpet with a soft thump.
“Now, your dress.” His voice had deepened.
The command, for that is exactly what it was, gave me pause. Where was this going? What was he planning to do? Unsure of where these demands would lead, I acquiesced. Getting the dress off was tricky. Deo should know that as he had zipped it up himself, this morning. Trying to maintain my dignity, I pulled my long auburn hair over my shoulder, then reached around my neck and began to pull down the zipper of my red Boden work dress. I managed to get it down a few inches before having to reach up from behind my waist. With a little wriggle, I pulled it the rest of the way down. As I slid my arms free, the dress cascaded to the floor, leaving me standing in the center of the drafty office wearing only my underwear and white silk slip.
The cold air wafting from the ceiling vent brushed over my exposed skin, doing nothing to help the shivers and chill bumps I already suffered from. My legs almost gave way underneath me when my husband growled, “Come to me, Cassandra.” Dark eyes flashing, Deo looked as if he would devour me.
Barefooted, I walked across the soft carpet, hesitating before stepping onto the cold, bare wood floor. Noticing my hesitation, Deo held a hand out toward me. I took it. His hand felt large and warm in mine. His eyes were cold.
Remaining seated in the large desk chair, he spread his legs, pulling me toward him until I was confined between his knees. The silk of my slip clung to the wool of his charcoal dress pants. I stood before him, trembling.
Looking up at me, my hands in his, Deo said, “Now, what do I do with a little girl who thinks she can break a contract with me?”
Feeling small, I looked at the floor. His powerful hands still held mine, and the heat from his touch coursed through me as his thumbs stroked over mine, applying a gentle pressure as he spoke.
“I know what I would do with a business partner, but my wife? That’s another story. This is not the world of finance, but the world of marriage.”
I stared at his familiar hands. The wedding band, the chain bracelet he never took off. At this point, I had no idea what my husband had in mind, or why I had obediently taken my clothes off and stood before him wearing only my underthings. But I knew, without a doubt, for the first time in our lives, I had pushed Deo to some limit I had not known existed.
“Cassandra. Look at me.”
Shyly, I gazed at my husband through my lashes. Chiseled jaw set, Deo raised his brow to me.
“The time has come for discipline, little one.” Letting go of my hands, he pushed his chair back, leaving me. The material of his charcoal dress pants made a quick popping noise as it pulled away from my slip. The rational part of me understood the spark I saw was caused by static electricity, yet everything in my soul was telling me this was the beginning of a storm I was unsure I’d be able to weather.
Unbuttoning the cuffs of his light blue pinstriped button-down shirt, he began to roll up his sleeves. First one, then the other.
Little one? Discipline? I should have seen it coming sooner, but I hadn’t. The full picture did not come into my mind until he said the words.
“Over my knee. Now.”
That was when I laughed. The laugh was a product of nerves and disbelief, but it was loud, and it was aimed at Deo. What happened next, well, as I said, I never make the same mistake twice.
Hearing those two words coming out of the mouth of the woman I would give my very life for broke something inside me. Not what you might think. Not my heart. Not my soul. No, what it broke was the rule I’d given myself. The rule that I’d set into place when I’d wed this young, beautiful, inexperienced woman. The rule I’d made that said that with time, Cassandra would mature on her own. I heard those words and knew I’d made an error. Instead of following my gut from the first day we wed, incorporating discipline into our marriage, I’d allowed my heart to lead me. And for what? To come to this moment, to hear my wife, the love of my life declare she was leaving, was giving up on our marriage. She had absolutely no idea what her words had set in motion. What she’d learn is that her ‘testing’ had changed the very fabric of our lives.
The laugh at my order didn’t faze me at all. It only instilled in me a determination that, by the time we were done, Cassandra would not only discover she was not leaving, she’d understand that she was no longer in control. I was.
Reaching out, I took her arm and, with ease, pulled her into place over my knees. Her squeal of surprise replaced the laughter. It took me no time at all to push her slip up to the middle of her back.
“Wait!” she exclaimed, her hand flying back, trying to shove the silk down.
“I’ve waited far too long,” I said, taking her hand and pinning it to her side, tucking her a little tighter into my body. “The time for waiting is done. The time for leniency is over. Learn this now, Cassandra. You disobey me, disrespect me, threaten to leave our marriage, and this is where you’ll end up every single time.” Delving my fingertips into the waistband of her panties, I raked them down, exposing the generous globes of her ass. I didn’t release them until they were at her knees.
“Please… I didn’t mean it,” she said. “It was a mistake.”
“It was,” I agreed, splaying my fingers against her alabaster flesh. “It was a mistake to allow you to think you were in control.” Using just my fingertips, I ran them over the surface of her bottom as if setting the perimeter of my target. I watched as goosebumps rose all across her skin and saw her buttocks quiver. “It was a mistake to think you didn’t need help in controlling yourself. Your temper tantrums stop today, young lady.”
“But I said I’m sorry!”
I smiled at the plaintive tone of her voice. It was so different from the cockiness of earlier when she’d tossed out two little words that had changed the dynamic of our lives. The confident lawyer was gone. In her place was a little girl who only now seemed to understand what was about to happen.
“Let this spanking teach you a lesson, little one. You became my wife with the exchange of our vows. Oaths that are sacred, that I will not allow to be broken. If it takes a thousand trips across my knees for you to understand that… so be it.” I’d said enough. It was time to apply action to my lecture. Giving each of her plump globes a squeeze, I lifted my hand and began.
My palm cracked against her ass. Her gasp was instantaneous as was the handprint that appeared, covering the entire surface of her right buttock. A second handprint bloomed against her left cheek with my second stroke.
“Ow! That hurts!”
“The very purpose of a spanking is to cause your ass to hurt,” I calmly informed her, lifting my hand again. A third gunshot sounded as her flesh depressed, jiggling for a moment before rebounding, a bit pinker. “A hot, tender ass is the price for disobedience.” I gave her several more strokes, ignoring her pleas and her wriggles. Poor thing thought she was in pain now, but I was simply warming her up for the true spanking I’d soon deliver. At the tenth stroke, her feet kicked up, curling toward her bottom as if to cover my target.
“Feet down!” I barked, pleased when they dropped and shaking my head when they curled up immediately after the next stroke. Pushing her legs down, I repeated my order to keep her feet on the floor. They stayed for only two strokes, then her knees bent, her feet kicking up, flailing wildly like the wings of a bird desperate to take flight.
“Learn this, little one,” I said, my tone telegraphing my displeasure. “Disobedience when facing discipline is a bad idea.” My fingertips hooked into the waistband of her panties, yanking them down to her ankles and then off, tossing them aside as I adjusted her, ignoring her squeal of surprise as I tilted her further forward. Lifting my left leg, I brought it down across both of hers, pinning her legs in place. “Repeating that disobedience, especially after being warned, will earn you extra strokes,” I said, my fingertips gliding across the pale, unmarked flesh of her thighs. “Extra strokes in places more tender than your ass,” I clarified, lifting my hand only to bring it down sharply to smack against the top of her right thigh.
Her screech was loud, her head arching back, her hand straining to release itself from my hold. Cassandra was a strong-willed woman, could hold her own in a courtroom, could win a debate with an entire room of opposing attorneys, but she was no match for me physically. She could wriggle, squirm, buck, bounce all she wanted. All that would accomplish would be to tire herself out. As for me, I could keep her over my knee, my hand lifting and descending like a metronome on her ass for hours if it came to that.
“Spanking your thighs?” I asked, the question punctuated with a smack to her left thigh.
“Yes… no… yes!” she squealed.
“If you don’t wish your thighs spanked, then settle down and accept your discipline. It’s as simple as that, young lady.”
She arched her head back, her green eyes huge as she stared at me. “How… how many more if I do?”
I shook my head, giving her a smile and an honest answer. “This is not a plea deal. This is discipline. I’ll give you however many strokes it takes for me to believe I’ve made an impression. A dozen? Two dozen? A hundred? I don’t know. That will be determined as we continue.”
Her mouth dropped open, but I saw no sheen of tears in her eyes, nor any sign of true contrition, much less surrender. I hadn’t truly expected anything else. She’d grown up without discipline. Had been so far above her parents in intelligence, they were intimidated. They’d not understood that despite her gift of both beauty and a mind bordering on genius, she’d needed them to step in, to teach her what her teachers, her peers couldn’t. Simple respect, common courtesy… all could have been ingrained in my willful wife with a few trips over her parents’ knees. Instead, she was over mine for what I had no doubt would be but the first of many spankings.
“I’m a grown woman! Not a child!”
“That has already been addressed,” I said, increasing both the speed of my strokes and the intensity, peppering her thighs again and again until she dropped her head and the hand that had been scrabbling across the wood planks of the floor grabbed my ankle as if to anchor herself. It didn’t take another half dozen before I heard the first sob and saw her body go limp.
“Good girl,” I said, wanting her to know that I was aware of her decision to admit defeat. Her thighs were red and her ass would soon match. “The next time, extras will be administered with my belt, understand?”
“Yes,” she managed.
Again and again, my hand lifted and fell against her cheeks, each stroke causing her flesh to turn white before darkening as the blood rushed to the surface.
“I-I’m so… sorry,” she sobbed.
“I am too,” I said, my words accompanied by additional smacks against her ass. “I’m sorry you felt you had to test me.” Two more strokes added fuel to the fire that I’d ignited. “I’m sorry I let you go so long without a spanking.” Another pair of handprints were painted to join the mottled red on her once pale canvas. “I’m sorry you felt the need to throw tantrums, to start battles that had no winner. I’m sorry you felt you had to threaten to leave to get my attention.” This time I placed four swats before speaking again. “But know this. You’ve always had it. You are my life, my love, my heart.” A harder swat was delivered with each word of my declaration. “I promise you’ll never have to worry about it again. I am taking control. And, Cassandra, you will follow my lead. Is that understood?”
“Y… ye… yes,” she said, her sobs causing her to stutter.
I placed a hard swat in the exact center of her bottom. “Yes, what?”
“Ye… yes, si… sir.”
I finished her spanking by cupping my palm, bringing it up against the under curve of her right ass cheek, the flesh bouncing up as the stroke landed against her sweet sit spot. A matching one was given, her left buttock bouncing with the force. Her sharp wails told of her discomfort at having such sensitive areas smacked. “And if you forget, where will you be?”
“O… over you… your kn-knee.”
“That’s correct. Over my knee getting your bare ass spanked.” I settled my palm on the same place I had earlier, the difference in the temperature giving testimony to the fact that her butt was burning. I let her calm, her sobs becoming softer, her sniffles and hiccups following as she realized the punishing blows had ended.
I slid my hand from her ass to between her reddened thighs, her sniffle stopping mid-sniff the moment my hand cupped her sex. I wasn’t truly surprised to discover what I thought I’d noticed when her legs first began to kick. My wife was sopping wet. I knew the spanking had hurt, knew she’d find it uncomfortable to sit for a day or so, but now I knew something else. My naughty girl was aroused. Hell, she was more than aroused; her pussy was dripping all over my fingers.
Lifting her, I saw her face flush as red as her little butt. “With discipline comes a need for penance.”
“Yes. A spanking begins the lesson. Penance completes it.”
Huge emerald green eyes gazed at me, tear tracks stained her cheeks, her nose was red from her sniffling, her hair tangled from her tossing her head, and yet, she’d never looked more beautiful to me. My cock had been hard for what felt like ages and it was time to teach my errant wife what penance she’d be paying.
“On your knees,” I said, giving her space by spreading my legs wider and guiding her down with my hands on her shoulders. Those gorgeous eyes widened as her face was now in direct line with my crotch… or to be more exact, the bulge that pressed against the zipper of my trousers.
“Take out my cock.”
It wasn’t as if she’d not given me head before, but this time was different. She wasn’t initiating the act out of desire to pleasure me. She was doing so out of a need to perform the penance I decided was required. Her fingers trembled as she moved to obey. After unbuckling my belt, she unbuttoned my pants and slowly pulled the tab of the zipper, the sound of it ratcheting down its track the only noise in the room. Once it reached its end, she flicked her eyes up to me, her face flushing a bit deeper.
“Continue,” I said, watching her bottom lip disappear, held by perfect white teeth as she reached into the fly of my pants, sliding her fingers into my briefs and wrapping around the shaft of my cock. With a soft whimper, she pulled it free of my clothing, my cockhead already glistening with pre-cum.
“You will use your tongue and caress every inch, from root to tip. You may begin.”
She hesitated but then bent forward. The tip of her tongue darted out to swipe across the head of my cock. Thrusting my fingers into her hair, I fisted the auburn tresses, ready to control this act as well. However, she continued to lick and lap at the pre-cum until it had all been swallowed. If she continued, more would seep out and I had given her instructions I wished her to follow. With a tug on her hair, I pulled her off my cock.
“Every inch licked and kissed. Understand?”
Her head began to bob, but was quickly followed by a soft yip when the movement caused a sting in her scalp as she’d forgotten I had my fingers in her curls.
“When I ask a question, I expect a verbal response.”
“Ye-yes, sir. I-I understand.”
Pleased with her answer, I nodded for her to continue. With one hand, she lifted my shaft, pressing my erection up against my stomach in order to provide a path for her tongue. Giving me another quick glance, she lowered her gaze and her head and began to apply tiny licks down my shaft, her exhales warming my sensitive flesh with each of her breaths. I felt my cock stiffening even more. The sight of my wife, on her knees, making her penance had me wanting more.
“Lift up your slip and push your red ass out for me,” I instructed.
The hand not holding my cock reached down and dragged her slip up to her waist, wadding the silk, baring her punished nates to my eyes. My cock jerked at the sight as I gave her hair another tug.
“Good girl. Now, open your mouth.”
When she did, I removed her hand from around my shaft, guiding my cock between her lips myself.
She obeyed, her cheeks hollowing in and out, her tongue flicking over my flesh. Her gag reflex kicked in when I pulled her head forward, my cock pressing against the opening of her throat. She’d learn to take every inch, to open her throat, to swallow my cock, but that would come later. Yes, we were beginning a new path, but it wasn’t one she had to traverse all in one evening.
After a few moments, I gave her hair a final tug, pulling her back.
With my cock now glistening from her ministrations, I reached down and pulled her to her feet. Turning her, I pressed her against my desk. “Bend over and grab the other side.” The stretch to do so had her going up on her tiptoes. Pushing her slip to her waist, the white in such vivid contrast with the crimson globes below, I said, “Spread your legs wide and lift that ass. Show me your wet pussy.”
A soft mewl sounded but she did as asked, her feet sliding apart and her bottom lifting. I wasn’t the only one glistening. The reddish curls between her legs were a darker copper color, drops of her dew clinging to them and shimmering on her inner thighs. She’d grown wetter during her penance.
“It’s quite naughty to be so wet, don’t you think?” I asked though I was incredibly pleased.
“Ye… yes, sir. I-I didn’t mean… I don’t know…”
“It’s not your fault,” I conceded. Drawing a finger through the moisture, loving her quick inhale and instant quiver as I traced the seam of her swollen lips, I continued. “Your body knows that it belongs to me and is just preparing itself.” Stepping between her legs, I held my cock at the base, guiding it to almost touch the opening of her dripping sheath.
“This fuck is not for your pleasure. It is for mine. To remind you that I am in control. That I own every inch of you. You will not come. Understand?”
“Oh… oh, please,” she pleaded, her head turning toward me, lust in her eyes evident.
“Not without permission,” I qualified, reaching to grip her hair again. “If you come without my consent, I’ll spank your cunt. Is that clear?
If anything, my threat seemed to do nothing but drive her desire higher. I saw her sex actually spasm and another drop of cream slip down her thigh as she said, “Ye-yes, sir.”
“Head and tits down. Keep your ass up. Do not let go of the desk.” With her final movement into position, I pistoned my hips forward, impaling her completely with a single thrust.
“Oh… oh, God!” she cried.
I continued to fuck her, hard and fast. This wasn’t the gentle lovemaking we usually engaged in. This was pure fucking. Claiming. Marking her as mine.
When her sweet mewls began, I knew she was getting close. When those mewls morphed into a soft keening that always preceded her climax, I gave her two thrusts to seek permission. With no request given, and the walls of her sheath tightening around my shaft, I pulled out and immediately slapped her now empty pussy… three times, hard.
Her keen turned into a screech as I fisted my fingers in her hair, yanking her head back. “What did I say?”
“I-I forgot…” she managed, her body trembling.
“Forget again and my belt comes off to add stripes to your ass. Is that clear?”
Releasing my grip on her hair, allowing her head to rest on the desk’s surface again, I grabbed hold of her punished ass and pushed into her once more. Despite the pain of having her cunt slapped, it wasn’t a half-dozen strokes before she began to mewl again.
“Please… please, sir. Oh, please, may I come?”
Extremely pleased, I bent forward, my cock balls deep. With my mouth at the delicate pink shell of her ear, I said, “Not yet.”
Her groan of need had my cock growing even harder. This was the beginning of her new life. She’d falter, she’d disobey, but, by God, she’d learn.
I fucked her harder, faster until I felt my balls draw up, my own climax imminent. Bending forward once more, I said, “You’ll come with me.”
Her head bobbed, her knuckles were white, her frame trembling as I slid my lips down to her shoulder. I took a mouthful of her tender flesh, biting down hard as I pushed in and out of her cunt. Her scream ricocheted around the room as she exploded, my cum shooting deep within her at the same exact moment. She continued to contract, her walls rippling along my length, milking me as she came for the second time, her cries now incoherent in her bliss. I emptied fully into her and then remained still, buried deep, waiting for her to come down a bit.
“Good girl,” I said, taking long licks against the crescent shape I’d marked her with before moving my lips to her ear again, giving her skin a slow swipe of my tongue, tasting both her perfume and the perspiration the fucking had caused. Kissing her softly, I straightened, withdrawing from her quivering body. Guiding her up, knowing she was incapable of standing on her own, I sank down into my chair, settling her onto my lap. She cuddled into me, her hand clasping my shirt, her flushed face pressed against my chest. I held her tightly, her small body fitting so perfectly with mine.
It was several minutes before she seemed to come back to herself. Her head tilted back as I met her gaze.
“I’m so sorry,” she said softly.
“The good thing about having a throbbing ass is that with punishment and penance comes complete forgiveness,” I said, bending to kiss her forehead. “But know this, Cassandra. This is a new beginning for you… for me, for us.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. An expression I hadn’t seen before shone from her eyes. It showed both wonder and respect and was accompanied by a smile that caused my heart to skip a beat. “Thank you for not believing me… for not letting me go. I-I love you, Deo.”
“And I will always love you, babygirl.”