I took a deep breath, shuffled out of my skirt and pulled my knickers down, leaving me in stockings and high heels. I picked the clothes up and put them on one of the meeting chairs. He pulled another chair away from the desk. Sitting on it, he waved me over with a finger, while with the other hand he undid his tie and pulled it out from his collar. Pausing a moment he undid the top button of his shirt.
“Turn around,” he instructed and with swift ease he used his tie to bind my wrists. Grabbing my arm by the elbow, he tugged me and lowered me across his lap. One leg over my thighs, trapping me tightly. His left arm pressed down on the small of my back.
“I’m going spank you, Gemma, hard. This is a punishment,” he spoke softly but very sternly. “Why am I punishing you?”
“Because I was indiscreet, sir,” I murmured back barely audible. He must have be able to feel my pounding heart with his hand.
I closed my eyes and waited. The blow when it came was hard, right across both cheeks. His palm rigid, making it hard and flat, swiping up as he hit me. Pain radiated out from the blow, causing me to exhale loudly and gritted my teeth tightly. More swipes followed. I bowed my head, trying to concentrate on processing the pain.
He worked his way around my buttock cheeks and the smacks were not evenly placed in time. A few fast ones followed by a lingering pause. I was becoming increasingly audible with my cries though not especially loud. I was pressing against his restraining hand and leg. The swats were painful thuds on my flesh, they echoed around his office and he was not letting up. I must have had received twenty.
Tears welled up in my eyes and the teardrops fell on to the polished floor below. I was crying quietly. I had been spanked before, hard like this, but I was full of other emotions. He was disappointed in me and the knowledge preoccupied me. The feeling of failure prevented me from absorbing the pain. The techniques for managing pain I had been taught were failing me and the lack of rhythm in his spanking had not helped the situation. I had yet to find a route for dealing with his punishments.
Sometimes I would float off during a spanking. My endorphin drenched body would seek refuge in an almost out of body experience. To drift off, floating in a strange place where my senses were dulled and fuzzy. The state came about gradually, never an instantaneous experience and the mood had to be right, typically erotically charged and certainly not encumbered by sense of disappointment. The mood was definitely not there as I lay over his lap. Far from the floaty effects, I could not stop the negative thoughts and the pain won through.
Jason stopped.
Was the punishment over? He had parted my legs to grope my sex. The palm of his hand rubbed over my buttocks and it started to happen; my belly was aching and my clitoris pulsated. His hand spanked me a few more times, not hard, almost playfully. Fingertips dropping down to my slit. Slaps followed again and I groaned with the strange sensation of painful lust.
I jerked hard on his lap. He had hit me with an implement. From the corner of my eye, I saw a plastic ruler. I squeezed my eyes shut and slumped back down on to his lap, resigned to further onslaught. He systematically worked his way around my flaming buttocks. The pain was a continuous spread across both cheeks, radiating burning heat. My arse had been well and truly fired by Jason Lucas.
I whimpered and my pain threshold was close to being breached. However, I was sensing my sexual being responding as if I was building to an orgasm. Unlike the last time he struck with a ruler, at his house, I was finding the atmosphere was shifting and redirecting. A strange intoxication began to sweep over me. More than a physical response, I was almost finding an erotic need to enjoy what he was doing to me. Was it the room, the ambience of his office or maybe the build-up he had given me as I waited all day to find out why he wanted me in his office. The right kind of anticipation could be alluring and enticing.
Surely not! I had never had such a response before during a punishment. I was deeply turned on by the pain and my surrender. A combination I had rarely experienced before now.
The idea of safe-wording up to that point had not entered my mind. It would have added to both our disappointments for me to end the punishment when it should be his decision. However, we were still finding out about our limits and how to recognise them. I was close to opening my mouth to speak and out of it came a wail induced by unbearable pain. I just could not end this.
“Shhh!” he whispered.
He put a finger inside and rotated it round.
Christ, it was amazing! He was finding my hot spot perfectly and my knees drew up underneath his restraining leg. The ruler struck my thighs hard. I jolted on his lap, twisting, straining, perhaps he had not finished yet. Sure enough, he started spanking me with the ruler harder than ever and I cried out loudly and began to struggle against him. Jason was definitely a master of manipulating me between pain and pleasure.
“Sir. Sir, please,” I sobbed loudly. My backside was a blaze of pain, the heat and throbbing continuous. Underneath me I had sensed his cock, growing rapidly now. Yes, yes, if that was what he wanted. I wriggled directly on top of his growing hardness, trying to stimulate him further. I had overstepped the mark though.
He grabbed my arm and pulled me up. “Go stand in the corner away from me.”
I staggered over to the corner of the room and stay there facing the wall. The pain throbbed on and I leant on the cool wall for a while. I kept my head down as silent tears continued to drip down my face. Many minutes went by and I could hear him typing on his keyboard. He was back to work while I stewed in my self-pity: neglected and overlooked. To be ignored hurt as much as the spanking.
Footsteps approached and he quickly undid the tie around my wrists. His face was next to the back of my head.
“What is the purpose of punishing you, Gemma?”
“To make me atone for my wrong doings, sir.” I could help the sniffles as I tried not let my snot run out of my nose. He gave me his handkerchief. “Thank you, sir.” I clutched it in my hands.
“You will think twice now about engaging in gossip won’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What else, Gemma? What did this punishment do to you?” his voice remained strangely soft yet full of those dominant characteristics.
My internal erotic pulse could not help ticking over. I was not sure what he meant. “I don’t understand the question, sir.”
“Are you angry with me for carrying it out?”
“Oh no, sir.”
“You didn’t subspace why? You can subspace?”<