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My boss’ hand isn’t on my bare bottom about to spank me.
My brain was doing that thing where it was trying to pretend like I was someplace else, anywhere else really, like maybe in my bed just having the naughtiest dream I could have ever imagined.
But it wasn’t.
I couldn’t be imagining the way the rough pads of his fingers were grazing across my bare skin, sending fiery tendrils of desire straight through me that I didn’t want to admit to.
I couldn’t be enjoying this.
It wasn’t making me soaking wet, right? That would be absurd, but as his fingers drifted back and forth, it was getting harder and harder to deny it to myself. I chewed the inside of my cheek, trying to reconcile with my reality.
“I think it’s time we begin, naughty girl,” Murtagh purred, and I had to keep my body from visibly trembling at the sound.
“We don’t have to do this,” I tried, and he chuckled softly. Then he lifted his hand from my bare backside, and I stiffened.
This wasn’t happening.
Oh my God it was.
His hand slapped my bare backside, and I yelped out loud, the sound itself far louder than I’d expected. I didn’t know what I’d imagined it would sound like, but it was deafening, almost like a gun had gone off indoors.
It was such a loud clap, that I almost worried that people walking by on the street might be able to hear and somehow know what it meant. That they’d know I was bent over my boss’ desk getting my bare bottom spanked, and I shivered hard, only for the second smack to follow.
This was so happening, and it hurt.
Like I had been stung by a thousand bees all in the same spot.
Or like I’d stumbled and fallen into a sizzling hot campfire, bottom-first.
Or like I had sat down on a hot metal bench in the middle of summer, or like I’d been prickled by a thousand needles all converging in a single point.
Okay, maybe that was all a bit of an exaggeration, but it hurt far more than I thought it would.
Murtagh spanked my bare ass for a third time, and I fought against the desk, but it was just as useless as it had been before. I wasn’t going anywhere, not until he decided to let me up.
“Please, be reasonable!” I wailed.
“I am, Zazie. I could call the cops and they’d cart you off to jail, but I’m showing you mercy by giving you a bright red bottom instead,” he answered quickly, and I gritted my teeth, trying to be strong.
I could do this. It was just a spanking. That was all this was.
Then the spanking truly started.
I had thought it had already, but that was just a few hard swats. Now, Murtagh’s palm had somehow turned into a paddle, spanking from the very tops of my cheeks all the way down to the lower curve of my ass and then further still. I danced from foot to foot, but it didn’t help.
Nothing helped really.
I was just a bad girl who had gotten caught stealing and now was getting her just desserts, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
The searing pain scalded into my bare flesh with every smack. He focused on the lower curve of my bottom right where it met my thigh, and my eyes nearly burst out of my head at the fierce sting that came with it.
“Please,” I whispered, but the punishment didn’t stop.
Instead, his palm turned harder, the swats fiercer, and my whole world narrowed down to two things.
My scalded bare ass. And his hand.
Nothing else mattered. My fingers dug at his desk but found no purchase. When I reached back to try to protect my bare backside, he pinned my wrists behind my back, leaving me completely helpless as he paddled me raw.
