Her laughter died. The words to tell him there would be no spanking clogged in her throat when he set the hairbrush on her coffee table. She gaped at the object she used every single day as if she’d never seen it before.
Dan inched by her and sat in the middle of the sofa, then extended his hand. “We’ll sit for a bit. I’d like to hold you.”
It wouldn’t hurt to sit. She allowed him to pull her to his side. She would speak up as soon as her voice started working.
“Here. On my lap.”
Emma snuggled against his chest and rested her head on his shoulder. He stroked her arm with a tenderness that might have been calming if not for his erection pressing against her bottom. The idea of spanking her had made him hard, and his arousal ignited hers, causing her clit to pulse, her nipples to bead.
Who do you think you’re fooling? You got wet as soon as he suggested the spanking. What about that, huh?
Shut up! Emma rebuked the taunting little voice inside.
Dan tightened his embrace and kissed her forehead. “I can feel your heart racing,” he murmured. “Trust me, Em.” His breath warmed her ear, and a shiver skittered up her spine. “We’ll begin slow, start out easy.”
She noticed he didn’t say he was going to go easy, only that he’d start easy. Tell him now!
Dan brushed his hand down her back to her hip, then trailed over her thigh before embarking on the return journey. In a single fluid motion, he shifted her. Emma blinked in surprise to find herself facedown, butt-up over his lap, her feet braced on the sofa arm. How had he accomplished that so easily? Beneath the softness of her tummy, the solidness of his cock pressed into her. Emma’s breath seized up in her throat once again. He removed her glasses, set them on the table beside the hairbrush, and her world fuzzed to a soft blur.
He pinned her to his lap with an arm anchored across her lower back while he massaged her right ass cheek with a gentle but sure touch. Hyperawareness burned through her dress, through her panties to her skin and deeper, until her entire body quivered at the cellular level.
Danger, Will Robinson. Danger!
Emma didn’t need a robot’s voice from an old TV show to tell her she’d miscalculated. Now she was prone over a man’s lap—a man with a raging hard-on—seconds away from being spanked. Call a halt, Emma. Call a halt.
Dan rubbed and squeezed the moons of her butt. “When you adopted Jinx, you accepted responsibility for his well-being.”
Jinx? She frowned.
“You know it’s dangerous for him to wander outside.”
Oh yeah. Jinx. The darn cat was the reason she was in this predicament.
Stroking ceased. “You need to be more mindful of your actions.”
Emma opened her mouth to agree, then jerked and squealed as he brought his palm down on her ass. Several slaps followed, each one delivered a little harder, stinging a tad more.
Emma raised her head and caught sight of her cat watching from a safe distance on his scratch post. This is your fault, she thought. It had to be her imagination that Jinx was smirking at her.
Dan moved his hand over her bottom, caressing away the sting, and she sighed in relief. That wasn’t so bad.
“I think you’re ready,” he said.
Alarm lodged in her throat when he flipped the skirt of her dress to her waist, revealing her black lace boy shorts. Cut high on each hip, the panty exposed the lower portion of her ass, the see-through lace showing the rest.
“Oh Em.” Dan groaned. “You’re already blushing. Your ass is beautiful.” His erection throbbed beneath her stomach.
She twisted slightly to peer at him over her shoulder. “Thank you,” she said with as much cheek as she could muster.
He smoothed his hand over her lace-covered rear, then traced a tantalizing trail along the edge of the leg opening. Tingles spiraled outward, delivering pulses into her clit, her pussy, and into her womb. She’d had no idea her ass could be so responsive to a simple touch.
Of course, her ass had never been spanked before.
Dan secured her on his lap and snagged the hairbrush.
The room spun, and she looked forward again. Like when having blood drawn at the doctor’s office, she couldn’t watch or she might pass out.
“Soon, Em, but not yet,” he said as if he sensed her nervousness. He set the brush beside him and resumed stroking her cheeks.
Emma recognized the moment his caress was going to become a serious smack. Perhaps it was a sudden tension in his body, the lift and pause of his stroking hand, a crackle in the aura of intimacy.
Prescience didn’t mitigate impact. When the spank came, falling sharply on her panty-clad behind, it stung mightily, and she yelped. A split second later, he burned her other cheek. She pressed her lips together to stifle a cry, not so much at the sharp pain, but at the knowledge that everything had changed. The spanking chiseled away at her core beliefs, and she clung in vain to the sofa, trying to hang on to the Emma she’d always been. Her outer shell shattered into bits and flew away, uncovering what had been hidden deep inside. Two smacks shouldn’t have been enough to tell her if she liked being spanked—except it did. She loved it.
“Perhaps the next time”—he smacked her hard—“you’ll think twice about”—crack—“leaving the door open”—another spank—“so Jinx can get out.”
Emma hadn’t expected a scolding with the spanking, but it enhanced the experience somehow, like talking dirty during sex.
She wiggled on Dan’s lap, but he clamped his arm across her back and yanked down her panties. Her breath hitched in her throat. She’d never felt so vulnerable, so…connected? How was that possible? Her pussy throbbed along with her ass.
Cool air grazed her naked skin, but then Dan slapped her cheek, and the temperature soared. She had no protection from his stinging hand, no defense against her rioting emotions. She wanted to hate it, to loathe every painful second, but…she didn’t.
Each spank seared the point of contact before morphing into ripples of confusing yearning. Pain…pleasure. Pain…pleasure. Twin sensations danced within her in a baffling tango.
She dreaded every punitive kiss, kicking and writhing to escape.
She craved each one, lifting her hips to meet every smack.
Deftly, without interrupting the pace, Dan employed the paddle brush, the wide head spreading the sensation over a larger area. He spanked her with a steady rhythm, until flames engulfed her from the top of her buttocks to her upper thighs.
Despite the pain—or maybe because of it—her pussy flooded with moisture, drenched her inner thighs and probably Dan’s slacks. She bit her lip and fisted her hands into the sofa fabric to keep from humping Dan’s lap.
Emma couldn’t deny the truth anymore—being spanked turned her on. Big time.
Just Right!
