Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
My lips parted as I started to figure out his meaning. Ready for my correction? Or ready for… for more?
“You got yourself so nice and smooth, Grace. You have the sweetest pussy I’ve ever seen.”
I wanted to say so many things. They all got in each other’s way, and they all ran into the problem that I had started to breathe so hard that I could hardly get a word out.
“Oh, God,” was all I managed to whisper.
He moved his fingers, beginning to work me down there, very lightly but also terribly skillfully. A sob burst from my chest.
“I told you I would fuck you,” the deep voice said, the tone as soft as the touch of his fingers where I needed so much more. “But if you decide you want to go home, after your punishment, I’ll do that for you.”
“Oh, no,” I breathed. I realized, to my dismay, that I didn’t want it to be my decision. My face burned with the knowledge, and I found myself taking refuge in the idea that at least my spanking, and my paddling, weren’t a matter of choice.
Cal seemingly read my mind yet again.
“But now it’s time for you to learn your lesson, darlin’,” he said, his voice becoming firmer. His hand rose. Panic filled my tummy, and I started to struggle against the overwhelming strength of his body.
“That’s alright, Grace,” he said. “I know you can’t help trying to get away.”
Then he started to punish me.
CHAPTER 29
Grace
I yelped from the start, and I kept struggling. They both made it feel easier, somehow. One of Cal’s huge hands held my wrists tight and held me firmly down over his knee, so that my wriggling resistance felt completely fruitless. His other hand came down on my ass-cheeks and my upper thighs in a rapid rhythm, so that my little but increasingly sharp cries of pain obviously had just as little effect. My suitor could make it absolutely clear, simply with the strength of his manly body, that—as he had told me patiently, over and over—I had no choice in the matter of how he would discipline me and train me.
My entire backside burned. At the same time, I could tell that Cal was administering this part of my humiliating lesson as a longer, less forceful kind of spanking. With my bare bottom raised and my shaved pussy exposed, I realized, he probably wanted to keep me over his knee for a good long time.
He wants to make sure I remember it, and that means he intends to make it last. I felt my cheeks burn anew at the idea; my dominant suitor would keep my bare bottom there, upturned and perfectly positioned for the well-deserved correction of his hand, as long as he chose.
My cries got progressively louder, though; the spanks were sharp and they stung like crazy. Cal delivered them quickly enough, too, that the agony of the next slap began before the pain of the last one had faded away. They rang off the living room walls, echoing like gunshots and cutting even through the sobbing wails I began to let out with each new swat.
“Shh, darlin’,” he growled, though he kept spanking me, as if the easiest way to get me to quiet down wasn’t simply to stop punishing me. “You’re getting used to it. Take it now. Learn your lesson.”
My brain, despite all the discomfort, somehow connected Cal’s words with another reason he might say Take it now. I even felt a little additional blush as I realized for the first time that the rhythm of a spanking had a certain resemblance to the cadence of his hand between my thighs—or of his hardness inside me, when the time came.
When the time comes? I felt my eyes go wide at the sheer confusion inside me, of painful and aroused sensations, of fear and need, of helpless, crazy-seeming affection for Cal because he had taken the trouble to correct my faults in this intimate way. Something in me tried to remind the rest of me about some sort of promise I had made myself—something about demanding to go home, after my naked paddling. That idea wouldn’t come into focus; it seemed even crazier than falling in love with the gorgeous man who understood me enough to give me the kind of training I needed so badly.
That thought brought a new kind of motivation, within my body, something that felt like a purely physiological response. My cries subsided to low, moaning sobs. I stopped struggling. I even tried to arch my back and push out my bottom, hoping to show Cal that I accepted that I had behaved badly and needed a spanking for it.
He stopped. He let go of my wrists and started to rub my back. The moan that came from my chest seemed to have my entire soul in it. Then his other hand, the strong right hand that had spanked me so sternly, began to rub my bottom softly in a circle. My whole body shuddered, and my hips bucked so violently I thought for a tiny moment I might actually move the leg that restrained my own lower body so securely.