Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 73013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Wait!” I yelled, struggling against his grip.
“Not a chance, Dee. We both know how badly you need to go over my knee.”
My body’s reaction to Rick’s words, delivered in the most dominant, confident, masculine voice I had ever heard coming from his mouth, was immediate and almost overwhelming. My pussy clenched. It felt like every muscle in my body tensed with a shock of arousal, and then relaxed as a sob burst from my throat.
I felt Rick feel that response, and—as if to show me he meant to back up every one of his words with resolute action—he took advantage of my sudden, helpless yielding to propel me rapidly forward, down the hall, and through the bedroom door.
Just before he marched me through the door I managed to get control over my muscles again. I tried to wriggle out of his grip, but he bent my arm a little further, just enough to control me.
“Ow… Ricky… please…” I said. “You’re hurting me! Please…”
“You know what to call me now, Dee,” he replied in a growl, pushing me toward the foot of the bed. “When you do, I’m happy to discuss this—once you’re where you belong.”
Where I belong. I wanted not to know what he meant, but every part of me—brat, good girl, naughty observer… even the independent, rational young woman—did. Where I belong.
Over my husband’s knee.
“Sir,” I pleaded, blindly desperate to avoid actually ending up there again. In the private room in the Selecta airport lounge I hadn’t really had to understand what it all meant; the very idea had been so overwhelming… had somehow felt both so outrageous and yet so mortifyingly familiar that I hadn’t had any capacity to think it through.
Here, in this lovely home in Rocky Falls, I understood it much better than I wanted to. Children went over their daddies’ knees, when they needed to learn a lesson. An independent young woman—even the kind who marries an older guy and hopes he’ll take care of her—doesn’t go over her husband’s knee.
Unless.
Unless she needs it. Unless she can’t behave herself properly… refuses to acknowledge her desires, her truly submissive nature… acts out… says rude things to a woman who’s only trying to help.
Then, that young bride belongs over the knee of the man who’s taken on the responsibility of guiding her. For her own good and their good as a couple, he has no choice but to put her there and correct her behavior the old-fashioned way.
“Sir,” I begged. “No… wait…”
But Rick had already started to sit down on the foot of the bed, turning and pulling me off balance so that I toppled over his left thigh, my upper body coming to rest on the too-familiar comforter. I felt his hand reach down to grab the hem of my skirt and again my body responded with terrible treason; the mere brush of his hand across my bottom and the sensation of my husband raising my skirt to bare me for discipline brought a sob of need from my throat.
Then I remembered the lingerie. It hadn’t been easy to forget, but I had managed over the past hour or so as I had become more used to the new feeling down there, the mortifying lewdness of having my pussy waxed smooth for my husband and dressed in a lacy thong. I remembered at the same moment Rick got my skirt up far enough to see my panties.
I could tell he had seen them… had seen how the thong ran so prettily and narrowly between the bottom-cheeks where he had left his mark with such authority the previous night… because his hand paused for a moment, and because he made a noise in his throat—a surprised sort of noise, but also the sound I had known since our first cuddling sessions, in his bed in the shared apartment.
It sounded like he was clearing his throat and breathing out through his nose at the same time, and I knew it meant something about me—about my body, or the way I moved it, or something I was wearing, or all of that—had turned him on so much he could hardly control himself.
I felt blood rush to my face, but despite everything I couldn’t help smiling—though I felt very glad that Rick couldn’t see the smile.
CHAPTER 31
Rick
Mandy’s whipped ass in that lacy white thong was the hottest thing I had ever seen. For a moment, I couldn’t even think about tucking her skirt up to keep it there while I punished her. The sight of the lacy thong I had picked out, the knowledge that she had obediently—if, I felt certain, with a bratty twist of her sweet little mouth—put it on after having her pussy bared, the enticing roundness of her pert, trim bottom-cheeks with the lace gusset running naughtily between them… it all made my cock spring to attention like nothing I could remember.