She moves past me, and as she does her arm brushes against me and I swear I feel a shock of electricity shoot through me, and it’s not static electricity either. This is something more, something perfect, something that only she could do to me.
Arriving at my desk, her eyes narrow and slowly she lowers her hands to the polished oak as if she’s putting her hands in wet cement in Hollywood at the Walk of Fame.
“Are your hands firmly in place?”
“Yes,” she says.
“There’s a time to dish out praise and a time to dish out punishment. I started with the former and now it’s time for the latter.”
I watch as her tiny little arms shake slightly and damn it if her fear doesn’t turn me on. I’d never hurt her, never, even when she thinks that might be exactly what’s happening. Her best interests are always at the front of my mind. And with her bent over in front of me, right now, something else is also in front of mind…and it involves sliding in behind her, breeding her, and making her mine forever.
But not yet, not here. One thing at a time.
“Do you understand?” I ask, as I move in closer, my eyes raking across her rounded bottom.
“Yes,” she says on a gulp.
“The correct response is, yes…Daddy.”
3
Camila
I feel my hands trembling on the desk, my palms sliding across the expensive oak due to my suddenly sweaty palms. I bounce on my toes as they try to will their way to cross my legs as I know what’s coming, I just can’t believe it or mentally accept it yet.
My eyes squeeze shut in anticipation as I feel the warmth from Carter’s body close to mine. I bite down on my lower lip and brace myself for what I know is coming…but doesn’t.
Looking back over my shoulder I feel a fluttery, empty feeling in my stomach. There’s a breathlessness I can’t quite overcome, like all the air has been sucked out of the room, when in reality it’s just my pounding heart, demanding more oxygen to send throughout my nervous system, which explains the tingling sensation I feel from head to toe.
It’s like I’m floating in a daydream as I grow impatient at being punished? What’s wrong with me? Or more accurately why does this feel more right than anything ever has in my life. It’s as if I’ve always needed this, but never quite knew it until it was about to happen. Until the words, daddy spilled from my lips, and his.
My eyelids blink uncontrollably as I try and control my jumpiness, but fail. I clear my throat audibly, but it does nothing to take Carter’s focus from my bottom, his pupils clearly dilated and a tic in his cheek suddenly appearing out of nowhere.
He brings his hand within an inch of being flush with my backside before pulling it back and then bringing it forward in a pendulum motion, stopping just where he started. I brace for the impact that doesn’t come, the impact that I desire. The feel of his big, meaty mitt on my globes.
“Uh,” I whimper, lurching forward despite not being touched. Confusions hoots thorough me and I grimace. My body posture loosens slightly and then tightens again, readying myself for what’s sure to come. Carter isn’t the kind of man not to follow through on what he starts, and I know any delay is only temporary, his narrowed eyes telegraphing I won’t need to wait much longer either.
My lips part in desire and I find my confidence, despite all the power in the room belonging to him. Lowering my voice and finding my backbone a glimpse of who I can be shoots through me, and directly out of my mouth with no filter. “Are you going to spank me, or just stand there staring at my bottom.”
“Everything you are and feisty too,” he tsks. “You’ve just earned yourself another spanking.”
“I keep hearing about this discipline, but I’ve yet to see it,” I torment him, pressing him to end this anticipation and show me what his hand on my ass is going to feel like…what else it’s going to wake up inside of me.
“I decide when and where to discipline,” he begins. “But if you’re looking forward to seeing it, then keep your eyes glued where they are, although you might feel it before you see it.”
“How is that—?” I begin, but like one of those martial arts one-inch punches I’ve seen on YouTube, his hand moves forward the final inch, slapping my ass so firmly that my hips buck into the edge of the desk.
“Oh yeah,” I cry out through gritted teeth, and just as I push my butt back and away from his desk his hand raises and comes down on my backside yet again, only this time with reckless abandon, cracking across my housekeeping uniform and setting my skin ablaze.
My tongue darts out and licks my lips in approval as his hand stays attached to my glutes, massaging the sting in even deeper, or away, I’m not sure really. I push my chest forward and bolt my feet to the floor, reading myself for spanking number three, and I don’t have to wait long.
His calloused hand finds my backside yet again, and his touch lingers again just as I feel his other hand slide around my throat as he maneuvers my head back to face him as he squeezes my jaw, controlling my movements and snapping my mouth shut.
“A mistake in cleaning the house is one thing. Demanding things is another. You will learn to behave and not to ever question me. Do you understand?”
A moment passes before his grip on my jaw loosens enough for me to force out, “It’s my life. I don’t need permission from anyone to do anything. I’ve made it this far on my own, thank you very much.”
A smirk covers his face. “You’re the horse that refuses to be ridden. Breaking you is going to be the biggest pleasure, and thrill, of my life. Of our lives.”