CHAPTER FOUR
I gulp when I notice what he’s holding in his hands. It’s a paddle, a large paddle.
“Hands behind your head, bend over the desk,” he says.
“What?” I ask.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, Lorelai,” he says. “I told you, I’m a very busy man. Now do as I said, or leave. The choice is yours.”
I know I could leave right now if I wanted to, and there’d be no consequences.
And I can tell also that this man would not care at all if I walked right out the door.
If anything, he’d probably feel vindicated, like he was right about me.
His suspicions confirmed. I think of him feeling smug, thinking I was right about her, and it annoys me.
I don’t want him to be right. He thinks he knows me, but he doesn’t.
I feel that defiance set in, and my attitude shifts.
“Fine,” I say as I lean over the desk, hands crossed behind my head.
When I feel his fingers grasp the hem of my plum-colored dress, the reality of the situation hits me. Panic, fear, arousal, and adrenaline spike, and I freak out.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” I shout.
I instinctively reach back and he deftly captures my wrist. In less than 10 seconds, both of my hands are somehow secured with what feels like a leather belt.
“Say leather at any time and I’ll let you go. Understood?” he asks.
I’m still processing everything, so I say nothing.
He raises his voice and grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling gently.
It’s not super hard, but the abrasiveness of it and the unexpected nature throws me off guard.
It feels degrading too. But a rush of hormones hit me and I realize I’m kind of turned on.
More confusion floods my body and he repeats himself: “I need you to answer me out loud, Lorelai. If you want to leave or you want me to stop, what word will you say?”
“Leather,” I whisper.
“Good girl,” he whispers in my ear and releases my hair.
Another rush of confusing emotions floods through me. This man, who I’m now pretty sure is some kind of red pill misogynist, just called me his “good girl.” And I know I should be outraged. So why do I feel turned on?
“You said you had no idea what I was talking about earlier,” he says, stepping back.
“But I think you were lying to me, Lorelai.” As I feel the wooden paddle hit my inner ankle and slowly trace up my calf, he continues.
“I think you knew exactly what I was talking about, but you just didn’t want to give in. ”
“You were being a stubborn little brat, and you were testing me, seeing how much you could get away with. Well, you’re about to find out,” he says.
Excitement and fear course through me.
“Thank me after each one or I start over,” he says. “And one more thing.”
He steps closer to me and lifts my dress again. Instinctively, my hands go to pull it down, but they strain against the leather belt.
“Bratty girls get punished on their bare bottoms, Lorelai,” he says, as he traces one finger up my inner thigh.
He stops right at the edge of my vulva and I inhale, holding my breath.
“So next time you decide to be a brat, think about this, and how your ass will be paying for it for the next few days.”
Another jolt of fear rushes through me. The next few days? How bad is this going to be? I’m almost paralyzed with fear. I’m curious and turned on too.
I’m debating with myself whether or not to leave when I feel the first hit. It explodes across my ass like a firecracker. I’m almost debilitated by the shock of it.
“What do we say, Lorelai?” he asks.
“Thank you,” I blurt out quickly.
“Good girl,” he says, and another unfamiliar surge of satisfaction hits me.
Crack. He hits me again, and this one hurts even worse.
“Thank you,” I whimper.
“Good girl,” he coos.
It’s demeaning and embarrassing being called his good girl, but I can feel myself getting wet. He hits me again, and I blurt out, “Thank you,” as quickly as I can. He lands a few more, and I feel my ass starting to throb.
“Have you learned your lesson?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say quickly.
“Good,” he says, untying my hands from behind my back.
“You can have a seat,” he says, gesturing back to the chair.
I sit down, wincing as my hot ass hits the chair.
“Uncomfortable, isn’t it?” he says, smirking. “It will be a nice little reminder to you about what happens when you mouth off.”
I almost roll my eyes, but at the last second, I think better of it and hold back.
“Smart girl,” he says, as if he can read my mind.
It pisses me off, but I can feel myself getting turned on too.
“Now,” he says, “I feel like I may have interrupted your five minutes of questions with that little demonstration of mine. So I’ll give you the opportunity to ask one more question, if you have it.”
I pause and carefully consider my words.
“You said you won’t settle for anything less than you want,” I say finally. “So what is it?” I ask. “What do you want?”
He pauses for a long second, locking eyes with me. I feel heat between my legs and I have a strong urge to look away, but I force myself to stare into his eyes.
“I want you to give yourself over to me, Lorelai,” he says. “Completely. Every inch of your body, I want complete control of. I want to discipline and punish you as I see fit and reward you when you’ve earned it. I want you to beg me and grovel and be a complete and obedient slut only for me.”
“If I ask you to fuck other men, I want you to fuck other men. If I ask you to strip naked in the middle of the street, I want you to do it unquestioningly.”
Oh my god, I think to myself. Is this man for real? He must be delusional. This is insane, and I know I should leave. But I can’t get myself to do it.
The word leather is on the tip of my tongue. But I just can’t say it.
“I don’t know if I can do that,” I say quietly.
“I know,” he says, which surprises me. “Not yet.”
“And that’s perfect,” he continues. “You were interrupting me before I was done,” he says. “Because I don’t just want an obedient little slut. Although I do want that eventually,” he says.
He pauses and his eyes dip down to my breasts and I blush.
“There’s plenty of women who will sleep with me at the drop of a hat,” he says. “But that’s boring. I like a challenge.”
“And that’s why I told my team to look for somebody who’s a bit temperamental, feisty, who will push back, who deep down craves submission, but will fight herself every step of the way.
When I first met you, I couldn’t quite tell if that was you.
You were stubborn, but is this what you want? To be forced to submit?”
He locks eyes with me. “That little demonstration, I know it is.”
“How do you know?” I ask, my eyes widening, heart quickening.
“Because by the time I was done punishing you, Lorelai,” he says, “you were absolutely dripping wet.”
Oh my god. A horrified blush rushes through my body.
“You can deny it all you want,” he says right as I open my mouth. “But I saw it up close. Your pussy dripping. Begging to get fucked. So it’s no use arguing with me. I know.”
“I know what your deepest, darkest impulses are. There’s no use lying.”
“No, you don’t,” I sputter.
I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help myself. He laughs.
“Of course, you’re still denying it,” he says. “In fact, I was kind of hoping you would. It’s not as fun when they give in right away.”
“What do you mean when they give in?” I ask, feeling indignant.
“Lorelai,” he says, “you’re very pretty, but don’t kid yourself. This isn’t new to me.”
I feel angry and I contemplate walking right out the door. But something stops me.
“But right now,” he says, “all I want is you. And those pink lips and that beautiful, insolent mouth of yours wrapped around my cock, choking on it as you learn your place. Right now,” he continues, standing up and walking over to me, “I want to bend you over that desk, rip off that dress of yours, and fill you up with so much cum that you’re leaking for days. ”
“And most of all, I want to watch your body writhe under me as I make you come again and again until you can’t come anymore. And then I’ll make you come again because I can. How does that sound?”
My face feels like it’s on fire. Even though I’m normally very assertive, I’m lost for words.
I squeeze my legs together tightly, trying to satiate the burning desire between them, but it’s of no use. I start to look away, but he grabs my chin.
“Look at me,” he says.
“Reach between your legs and show me how wet you are,” he says.
I feel like I’m almost in a trance. I reach between my legs and move my panties aside and dip one finger in.
“Good girl,” he says. He grabs my hand and pulls my finger out. It’s glistening.
“Lick it,” he says.
I put my finger in my mouth and lick.
“Keep looking at me,” he says. “Do you feel embarrassed?”
My face heats up and I can’t bring myself to nod. He smiles.
“I love watching you squirm.”
“Now keep looking at me and do that again. Put two fingers in and finger-fuck yourself. Make yourself come and don’t you dare look away,” he says.
I follow his instructions and start moving my fingers in and out while my thumb lightly touches my clit.
“Good girl, Lorelai,” he says. “Look at you dripping all over my chair. Finger-fucking yourself like an obedient little slut.”
“Do you still think you’re a strong, independent woman now?” he asks. “I bet your ass feels raw against that chair,” he says. “Every time you sit down, it’ll be a reminder of what a little brat you were.”
“And now,” he continues, “you’re going to be a good little girl and come for me Lorelai. Right on my chair. Now moan for me.”
I bite my lower lip and shake my head. It’s not that I’m usually quiet during sex, but this feels too intimate.
“Moan for me, Lorelai,” he says.
I shake my head once more, and all of a sudden, he picks me up. In a flash, he’s on the chair, and I’m over his lap.
He pins my legs and grabs both of my wrists, spreading my legs. He’s fingering me, and I feel my hips start to buck. I’m writhing, but he pins me in place as he ups the intensity.
“Moan for me, slut,” he says as he smacks one of my ass cheeks.
The pleasure mounts and a small whimper escapes me.
A pang of embarrassment hits me as he massages my clit harder.
“Good girl,” he says. “You like it when I touch you, don’t you?” he says. “You like being over my lap, spread like a little slut.”
When I don’t answer, he smacks my ass again and it stings. It brings back the memory of the spanking and I feel my back arch as my muscles begin to tense.
“I want you to come for me, Lorelai,” he says.
“And afterwards, I want you to remember how you came like this. Half naked across my lap. Helpless and out of control. And every time you think of acting up again, I want you to remember your place. Do you understand?”
I’m quiet and he smacks my ass. It jolts me and I stutter.
“Yes.”
“Yes, sir,” he says, smacking me again. “Now come for me, Lorelai.”
He presses and inserts a third finger and I feel my body shatter.
He holds me in place as my body twists and turns and shock waves roll out through my body. Intense pleasure short circuits my brain and I forget where I am for a few seconds as bliss pulses through my body.
“Good girl,” he says finally, once my orgasm has subsided. “Now go clean up and meet me in the kitchen in an hour,” he says.
The End