Beg for It(57)

Corinne settled herself on the armchair, her ass on the edge of the cushions. She smoothed her hands up and down her thighs and cocked her head to look at him with a small smile. “Take your briefs off and come over here.”

He shucked out of the briefs immediately, instinctively wanting to grab his cock as it bobbed, tapping his belly. In front of her, looking down, he hoped she meant to take him in her mouth, but Corinne had other plans. She gestured.

“Over my lap.”

Reese paused. “Huh?”

“My list. I told you what would happen, there’d be consequences. This is it. Over my knee.”

“I’m too big.”

She gave him another of those wicked smiles that burned him from the inside out. “Oh, I don’t think so.”

He remembered the crack of the ruler on his knuckles. This was something else that should’ve made him feel ridiculous, a schoolboy punishment. At the glance of her gaze at this straining dick, though, he knew there was no way he could pretend to her that he wasn’t completely at her mercy.

“Oh, see?” she murmured, eyeing his cock. “Look how pretty.”

She spoke to him differently when she was like this. Her voice changed. It triggered him to respond even more, letting his hand drift up his shaft so his fingers stroked through the glistening droplet of precome leaking from his cockhead.

Fitting himself onto her lap, though, that was more of a challenge. Awkward, to say the least, with his head hanging down, hands on the floor to support himself, his dick snugged somehow in the space between her knees and his own knees not close enough to the floor to touch. He was too heavy for her, he thought even as the warmth of her hand caressed his bare ass.

“Do I get to know what was on the list?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” she said as her hand caressed him. “Being argumentative. Speaking poorly of my apartment on Queen Street. You were generous to the driver, but you need to learn to treat the people who provide services to you like people, not servants. Being late—”

“I was early to get you leaving the office.”

“Not that first time, when you came to my house. I told you very specifically, forty-seven minutes. You were late,” she said sternly.

“That shouldn’t count. That was before we came to an agreement.”

“Argumentative,” Corinne said.

“Argumentative is on there twice?” He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of her hand moving over his rear.

“It will be on there every time you argue with me,” she said in that voice that got his cock twitching.

“I want to be better for you,” he told her. “I’ve never said that to anyone else.”

“I’m honored.” Her hand teased the undersides of his butt cheeks, tickling. “So. How many spanks do you think you should get?”

“Ten?”

She swatted him lightly, not nearly hard enough to sting. “You get twelve. To start. I want you to count them, and say ‘thank you, Ma’am’ after each one.”

He laughed because she did, and twisted to look up at her. “You really…okay. Yes, Ma’am.”

Still laughing, Corinne ran her hand over his ass again, like she was testing him out. “Hush. Yes. You get the spanks.”

The first crack of her palm on his skin was more tentative than he expected, though it hurt worse than he’d thought it would. Felt better, too, a small sting followed by a spreading heat. He’d always liked a little pain, and she knew it, but the underlying elements of this had nothing to do with that. It was about giving up, giving in, doing what she asked of him; it was about the anticipation of the next smack.

After the fifth, he found himself pushing up to meet her hand as she cracked him. Rolling his hips to get his cock any kind of pressure, any friction at all in that sweet, slightly too open space between her thighs, if only she’d just squeeze him a little, it would feel so f*cking good…

“Six, thank you, Ma’am,” he said.

The next came. The sting was worse, the spreading heat centering in his balls and the base of his dick as much as in the meat of his ass cheeks. With his head hanging down, the blood was rushing, but that only made all of this that much more surreal.

By the eleventh, he wasn’t sure he could last for one more, and not because it hurt. It would take a lot more than eleven or twelve spanks to really be painful. No, it was because his cock was betraying him, dripping clear, slick fluid all over her thighs and all it would take was a few stealthy thrusts to start easing him toward orgasm. It was all he could think about, really. Thrusting, grinding against the smoothness of her skin. It was strenuous, even, to bark out the words she’d demanded of him, and he knew the breaking of his voice would get to her.

“One more,” she breathed. Her hand soothed over his hot flesh. “Your ass is so red, puppy. Such a pretty shade of red. I bet your cock is almost the same shade now. What do you think? How about another twelve? Maybe twenty. Fifty would get you in better shape, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t know…”

Another crack came down against him. “You don’t know, what?”

“Ma’am, twelve, thank you, Ma’am!”

“That was for not addressing me properly. You still get another. Do you understand?”