Oh. There was something else.
I was wet.
He wasn’t just going to see my bare bottom, and maybe a hint of my naked pussy between my thighs.
He was going to pull down my panties and he was going to find that they were soaked with my arousal. There was no way he was going to miss the wet spot that I knew was there.
“No! Please! Leave them up,” I pleaded.
“No, Kasia. Bad girls get their bare little asses spanked bright red,” he stated like it was the simplest thing in the world. I cried out as he grasped the waistband of my panties.
I thought I was prepared for when he started to pull them down. I told myself it was going to be bad, but it was so much worse than I could have ever imagined.
The seam of the waistband scraped my naked skin, making me hyperaware of every inch that he bared. I couldn’t stop myself from crying out in absolute shame and pressed my hands over my lips in an effort to keep quiet. I hoped that he hadn’t heard it, but I knew in my heart that he probably had.
He dragged my panties down past the tops of my thighs, all the way to the backs of my knees.
He said nothing at first, letting the full weight of my nakedness fall on me. I didn’t say anything either, my embarrassment holding my tongue captive.
As the overwhelming silence reigned over me, the full weight of what was about to happen finally hit me.
He hadn’t said anything in jest. He’d said he was going to spank me and that was about to happen whether I liked it or not.
“Please,” I begged one last time.
He said nothing.
My nerves felt frayed as my anxiety rose, but what caught me by surprise was my rampant arousal. This was the first man I’d ever met that had been able to best me. Not only that, but he’d overpowered me and pinned me over his knee with the sole intention to spank me for the things I’d done to him.
My naked pussy somehow became that much wetter.
I desperately hoped he couldn’t see.
“Do you have anything to say to me, little girl?”
There would be no more fighting. The only thing left was to give in and take the punishment he was about to deliver with his own hand.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. His palm smoothed over my bare bottom and a shiver raced down my spine. I sucked in a breath. His touch was absolute fire along my skin.
He waited and the silence felt damning. What more could he want?
“Is that how you address the man that’s about to punish you, little girl?”
“No… sir,” I squeaked. I don’t know why I’d said that. It had just slipped out, without thought or prompting. For some reason, it felt like the right thing to say at the moment.
He cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry, sir,” I whispered, my voice quivering. My clit pulsed greedily and a part of me wished the hand that was currently about to spank my ass would slip in between my thighs and play with my needy little bud instead.
“For what?” he pushed.
“Sir?” I whispered.
“Tell me in your own words why I’m about to spank you, little girl,” he demanded, but there was a painstakingly gentle tone to his voice that called out to me.
That made me want to answer.
That made me want to please him.