Chapter 22
Alessa
It doesn’t hurt at all. In fact, the motion itself is so nothing that there’s no way anyone else in this lounge saw it happen. But I felt it. The intentions.
She wants to. Punish me, that is.
“I should do it right here, Lessa.” That growl fills my veins with both dread and arousal. I don’t doubt that she’s aroused. This is exactly the kind of thing that turns her on. “I should bend you over right here in front of all of these nice, well-to-do people and spank your ass red until I’m good and sure you’ll never do something like that again.”
“I…” She’s spanked me during sex. Makes it sweeter, you know? I thought that was the real reason for spanking in the bedroom.
This, though? This is… different. This is her flexing her power in our relationship. Something tells me to run. That this is a red flag. That her insinuating she should spank me in public, humiliate me in front of Portland’s high-society and their guests, is a huge sign that she doesn’t respect me and only sees me as a plaything.
So… why the fuck am I turned on right now?
Is this part of my transformation into submissive Alessa? The one who likes serving my girlfriend in the bedroom? Am I so far down a dark well that I am liable to drown if someone doesn’t pull me up soon?
What the fuck do I do?
“What do you have to say for yourself, Lessa?”
Every time she calls me that, I’m reminded of what’s going on here. This is a sex game. Nothing more. Certainly nothing less.
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Marcon. I… I’m also a bit nervous.”
“Scared?”
“Perhaps,” I squeak.
“It’s natural. But at some point, you’re going to have to understand that things like this,” she lightly taps the bottom of my ass again, “happen. There will be occasions when you will need to be punished. I have a billion-dollar business to run, and you compromised that.”
“I…”
“You think Coleman and Moreau aren’t thinking that I should do something about this? I’ve bothered them both because of what’s happened. If they were in my shoes, you should damn well bet that they’d smack your ass until you’ve fully understood what you’ve done.”
Okay, but would they do it in…
I glance over to the other side of the lounge. There are the Colemans, having a good ol’ time talking to their local friend. Jamie happens to catch my sight. She immediately recognizes what’s happening, her smile disappearing… but not in concern. The way she puts her hand on her wife’s leg, caresses her, says that Julianna and I have inspired certain thoughts.
“Is everyone here a kinkster?” I attempt to whisper my words, but they come out in a demure squeak instead. “You pick your associates well, Ms. Marcon.”
“Takes a certain woman to make it to the top.” Her hand lingers on my ass. Anyone looking over can see her fingers hovering above my skirt. “Neither of them is a lifestyler, though. One day I will have to introduce you to a couple like that.”
I shiver. When I look over again, I spot Jamie whispering in her wife’s ear. Etta tips her chin up and lightly kisses Jamie’s lips, whose hands slowly slide between her wife’s legs.
I wouldn’t consider myself a voyeur, but this is kinda hot. They’re not even doing anything, and I’m turned on!
“Lessa,” my girlfriend says, her teeth grazing my earlobe. “I still don’t think you understand what kind of trouble you’re in. You’re lucky I don’t take you over my knee.”
My lip succumbs to my teeth chomping on it. Now, if Julianna actually slammed me across her lap and smacked my ass, I would die, and not in the sexy way. But the fantasy? The thought of my girlfriend punishing me with her firm but fair hand?
I’m going to embarrass myself again.
One last time… she smacks my ass, hard, while a small group of people half-tipsy on expensive alcohol push past us and argue over who is paying for the Uber back to their hotel. Julianna kisses my cheek before muttering, “Would you like that, Lessa? Me spanking you in front of all these nice people?”
My fingers are caught in her lapel. “Maybe some other time, ma’am.”
“One day, hm? For now,” she grips my wrist, gently turning me around in her arms, “we’ll keep it private. Come with me. Now.”
The rest of the people in the small lounge disappear as she leads me to another room. A nice, unisex restroom. I barely pay attention. I’m so wrapped up in the effortless way she moves me around, commands me that I can barely contain the arousal spiking in my gut and exploding through my body. Who knew I was such a sucker for an expensive woman in an even more expensive pantsuit?
And she smells so nice…
And her voice… the way she growls into the crook of my neck when we’re alone, the door locked behind us….
The taste of desire crossing my tongue…
Damnit, we’re going to do it right here, aren’t we!
Didn’t think we would be screwing in a public restroom this early in our relationship. Yet this isn’t your typical bar bathroom. While it’s cramped in here, it smells like a flower garden and… well, how many bar bathrooms have tiny, tinkling fountains and the toilet cordoned off by a Japanese screen? Sure, Julianna and I barely fit in here without knocking over the screen, but…
But it’s fucking hot.
“Look at yourself.” Julianna stands behind me in front of the mirror hanging above the sink. My fingers grip a marble countertop. The top buttons of my silk blouse come undone. I wore a pushup bra today, and we can both tell. Especially with my hair down and framing both my face and my chest. I look like a girl who is in way over her head.
If I didn’t already know what Julianna is capable of, then I’d be freaked out of my mind.
But I do know what she’s capable of. I know what she wants from me.
I am so turned on that my nipples poke through my blouse and I can’t figure out how to close my damned mouth.
“You know what I see in that mirror, Lessa?”
I’m a wreck compared to her. So nicely put together in her three-piece business suit, that sapphire blue blouse twinkling in the lavender lights of this bathroom. Her perfume still smells so good this late in the day. That self-assured stance is something I can only aspire to mimic.
“What?” I breathe.
She nuzzles my ear. “I see a young woman that’s still rough around the edges. A diamond in a sea of lackluster jewels. You know what that means?”
“No…”
“That means I find you the most fascinating and the most beautiful. You only need a little shining up, and you’ll be perfect. That says a lot. Because you’re shy of perfect already.”
I swallow. “What needs shining up, madam?”
“Well, you could be better behaved.” She caresses me. My hips. My ass. The inside of my thighs. My bare skin tingles beneath her touch. I can only imagine what this is doing to her.
“Do you apologize for the spot you’ve put me in today, Lessa?”
Nodding, I look into the eyes in her reflection, silently begging her to do something about my sullied behavior. “I’m sorry, madam. It won’t happen again.”
“Ask for it.”
Again, I swallow. “Ask for what?”
“Your punishment.”
I’m frozen where I stand, my fingers digging into this countertop to the point my knuckles whiten. “I…”
“The perfect woman for me wants her punishment when she’s done something wrong. But she never, ever does something wrong on purpose. Otherwise, how is she learning?”
These are things I’ve never thought about before. Why would I ever want to be with a woman who wants to punish me? For doing something she didn’t approve of? For screwing up something so important? I’ve apologized. I’ve learned to take certain things in her business more seriously, a skill that will follow me for the rest of my life, regardless of whom I work for or who I sleep with. But do I want a girlfriend who wants to punish me? And gets off on it?
Before, I would have said hell no. Isn’t that grounds for breaking up? For running far the hell away? How could that possibly be a healthy relationship?
Now, I’m not so sure. When I investigate Julianna’s visage, I don’t see a control freak. What I see is a woman who wants to make me into her perfect lover.
And I? I want to become that perfect lover. She’s right. I’m rough around the edges. I’ve got a lot of learning to do if I want to be the girlfriend and possible fiancée material of a wealthy, well-bred woman like her. Julianna and her peers live in another world. They don’t play by society’s usual rules. This means they’re not playing by normal dating rules. How unfortunate for me, the girl who has been learning the modern dating scene since the day her boobs grew in.
One thing’s for sure: I should not be afraid of Julianna. If she ever scares me? I can tell her. She’ll back off. Make it better. Listen to me and my concerns. That’s what separates her from someone I don’t want to be around. So, if she gives me this kind of command and I…
I’m turned on…
Is there anything wrong with it?
“Please…” The words fumble in my mouth. Am I honestly asking for this? “Please punish me, madam.” Phew. That wasn’t so bad, was it?
“How am I going to punish you?”
Damnit! She wants me to say the whole thing, doesn’t she? This gal is getting off on me begging for my just-deserved spanking!
“You need to spank me, madam. It’s the only way I’ll learn.”
If I could capture the look on her face when I say that and shove it into a bottle, I bet I could sell it for a million bucks. That’s the face of a woman who’s about to give it to me good.
It starts with her saying, “Let’s not interrupt those nice people out there. Don’t make a sound when I spank you, and I’ll make sure you get a reward in the end.”
I’m doomed.