CHAPTER THREE
“Oh, really?” he asks. “Even the lasagna?” he says, gesturing at the uneaten, undercooked noodles still on my plate.
I nod. “Oh, yeah.”
“Then why haven’t you eaten any of it?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, you know, I’m lactose intolerant,” I say, bluffing on the spot.
He guffaws.
“Okay, cut the bullshit,” he says. “It’s been fun playing along with your lies, but this is just getting ridiculous now. And if you were, why in the hell would you bake lasagna?”
I shrug. “Maybe I forgot.”
“And you just remembered?” he asks.
I blush and look down at my nails. He’s got me.
I have to say, I’m not the best at coming up with lies on the spot.
“So, can you admit that you failed at this? Or are we going to have to fight over it?” he asks.
I huff and cross my arms. “Okay, I failed, but...”
He raises his hand in the air. “There’s no buts around here, Lorelai,” he says.
“I gave you one task. Was it hard?” I shake my head and he continues.
“It wasn’t. You could have made simple spaghetti, but you chose to make something that would take much longer than you had time for. Isn’t that right?”
I sigh. He’s right, of course. I’ve always been bad with time management. I get a bit overambitious and overextend myself.
“Let me guess,” he says finally. “You’re a perfectionist. And sometimes you bite off more than you can chew.”
I nod, surprised by how perceptive he is. He looks at me and smiles.
“I get it. I’m the same way.”
“And while I might sympathize with that position, you know it’s not good for you, right? Because when you over-promise and under-deliver, you disappoint those around you, don’t you?”
I nod, slinking into my chair.
“Now Lorelai, I want you to understand that what I’m about to do isn’t to make you feel bad. It’s discipline. It’s for your own good. Do you understand?”
I purse my lips. I kind of do, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“I don’t need you to discipline me. You’re not my dad.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Did your dad ever discipline you?”
I look at him silently.
“That’s what I thought,” he says.
“I don’t understand what’s going on here,” I say. “I thought you wanted somebody to have sex with. I thought that’s what this arrangement was.”
He laughs. “Did you really? I think you’re too smart for that, Lorelai.”
I don’t know what to say. On one hand, when I signed up for this arrangement on a matchmaking site a few weeks ago, I didn’t have much insight into what it would be like.
And after I signed up, I found out that he was willing to compensate me very generously for my time. It almost sounded too good to be true.
So maybe it was foolish of me to think that this would just be a simple exchange, or not even an exchange, but an adventure. Clearly, he has the power in this dynamic, as evidenced by the fact that he’s paying me.
Then again, I’m free to leave at any time, as he’s mentioned several times. I don’t want to, though. Not yet at least. But that could change.
I definitely got an inkling that something was different about him from the start. But it’s becoming more and more apparent that this goes way beyond what I’d originally imagined.
“Did you not read through my profile thoroughly?” he asks.
I shrug. “I looked through it,” I say.
He shakes his head. “Naughty girl, Lorelai,” he says. “This is what happens when you’re impatient and speed through things. You skip details. And you know what happens when you skip details? There are consequences. Just like how you skipped details with dinner.”
“You need to learn to be more patient, more controlled. Luckily for you, I’m very good at instilling those values in women.”
My cheeks flush. I have no idea why I’m letting this man have this kind of power over me.
He’s talking down to me like I’m his child.
But it’s more than that. He’s also looking at me with a kind of hot desire I’ve never felt.
His eyes are practically burning a hole through me.
I glance down at his crotch and I can tell he’s hard. This is turning him on, I realize.
“What do you get out of this?” I ask finally.
“Out of disciplining you?” he asks.
I nod.
“It turns me on,” he says simply.
The words hang in the air between us.
He’s so blunt, so to the point, so unashamed, so free. I’m jealous in a way. Confident. I want to be like that, to be free to ask for what I want, or just simply state what I want and take it just like he does.
“I think you asked me before, Lorelai, what kinds of women I look for, and I gave you an answer or part of one. But the full answer is: I look for women who need leadership, guidance, who are wild but want to be tamed even if they don’t admit it to themselves. That’s why I wanted you.”
I feel a swell, an odd swell of pride mixed with fear and curiosity. I’m oddly flattered.
“What does that actually mean, taming me?” I ask.
He smiles, and I notice the bulge beneath his pants grow even harder.
“Oh, I think you know,” he says. “Undo your bodysuit and lean over the counter.”
I reach for the straps of the bodysuit to pull them down, and he stops me.
“No. I meant... the snaps,” he says.
It takes me a second to realize what he’s getting at—the bodysuit snaps that fasten underneath the crotch, presumably to make it easier to go to the washroom. My face flushes as that sets in.
I tentatively undo the snaps.
“Roll it up,” he says.
I roll the material up my body, and because it’s so tight, it stays there. I didn’t wear any underwear underneath it, seeing as it’s a thong cut.
“I like that you didn’t wear any panties, Lorelai,” he says. “You want to be a good girl, don’t you? You just need some guidance.”
“I didn’t wear panties because I didn’t want to,” I say. “It had nothing to do with wanting to be a good girl.”
“Sure,” he says. “Keep telling yourself that.”
He approaches me from behind and runs a hand in between my legs. He lightly dips in between my folds and scoops out some of my wetness.
“You’re soaking wet, Lorelai,” he says, whispering in my ear.
“Do you still want to stick to your story?”
“What story?” I ask.
“The one where you’re not turned on by being my little slut,” he says.
I’m quiet, and he pulls back and slaps one of my bare ass cheeks. It stings, as it’s already red from the earlier spanking he gave me.
“Lean down on the counter,” he repeats, “and spread yourself.”
I press my chest onto the cool countertop and reach back. Shame flushes through me. Does he seriously mean that?
“Now, Lorelai,” he says. His voice is deep and gruff and it spurs me to action.
I reach for my ass cheeks and spread, feeling arousal course through me.
“Good girl,” he says, and I can’t help but feel a twinge of something between my legs.
“Now I’m going to give you five spanks,” he says, “as punishment for not managing your time properly in preparing dinner. Understood?”
“Yes,” I squeak.
“Yes, sir,” he says, as he smacks one of my inner thighs.
I glance back and see him holding a wooden spoon. I gulp, and my heart beats even faster.
“Ready?” he asks.
I shake my head.
I close my eyes and the first one comes. He lands it right in between my cheeks and I yelp. It hurts, but it’s not even that it hurts so much as that it’s humiliating, the place where he’s spanking me. And I’m sure that’s the entire point.
“Four more,” he says.
He lands the second one and I grimace, shifting my weight from side to side.
“Hold still, baby girl,” he says.
He lands the next one, and now the burning on my bottom hole is getting intense.
“Just two more,” he says.
He lands the last two in rapid succession, and they’re thankfully not as hard.
“We’re done,” he says. “You can put your bodysuit back on.”
I release my cheeks and stand up, fastening my bodysuit. It’s an odd sensation, unlike before. It’s not that my outside skin is burning, but the inner area—it’s so private that it feels especially embarrassing.
“How did that feel?” he asks me as soon as I turn around.
My back is against the counter and he’s right in front of me. I can’t look him in the eye.
“Answer me,” he says.
He picks me up underneath my thighs and props me up on the counter.
“Did you feel embarrassed getting spanked on your bottom hole like a naughty, naughty girl?” he asks.
My cheeks flush and I look away.
“I bet you did,” he says, as he moves the crotch of my bodysuit to the side and dips a finger inside my cunt. “And it turned you on, didn’t it?” he asks as he adds another finger.
I close my eyes and bite my lower lip. I can’t help it.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he growls in my ear. “I love it.”
He begins to massage my clit with his thumb, and I throw my head back.
“You know what my favorite part of punishing dirty girls is?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“It’s making them come after,” he says.
He leans down and suctions my clit with his mouth. He starts to swirl his tongue around it, and a moan escapes my lips.
“That’s it, baby girl,” he says. “Come for daddy.”
As he’s sucking my clit, he starts to finger me and I lean back on the counter as an orgasm pulses through my body. He keeps sucking and 30 seconds later, another one erupts.
He picks me up off the counter and places me on the floor.
“I have some work to take care of, angel,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Remember what I told you.”