Federal Discipline by Loki Renard Page B

spanked in the first place. He had one very distractible brat over his knee, especially when it came to softer, more sensual touches.
    “You enjoy this!” She threw the accusation over her shoulder. It floated past the bouncing red rounds of her bottom and probably continued into the next apartment, but Jack wasn't worried about that. He was interested in thoroughly spanking the lady across his lap.
    Her accusation wasn't entirely baseless. He did enjoy spanking her. She had a very cute bottom, a bottom that was made to be spanked, really. He adored the way her cheeks bounced with each slap, a firm jiggle that was as alluring as it was endearing.
    “This is for your own good,” he assured her. “You'll remember this next time you decide you're going to disobey me.”
    “I didn't disobey you.”
    “I told you to get some rest. You decided to burn the midnight oil and when that ran out, the wick at both ends.”
    “Your overuse of metaphor is offensive... ow!” Jamie squealed as Jack slapped her bottom with increased vigor.
    “You know what I mean, Jamie. But I'll cut the metaphors and give it to you straight. Do as you're told or I'll spank your ass until you can't sit.”
    He followed up the explanation with a volley of hard swats that made her skin glow bright red, and her shapely body sway back and forth across his lap. Jamie's complaints almost drowned out the sound of flesh slapping flesh.
    From that intense crescendo he spanked progressively more softly until she was both sleepy and soaked. Ten minutes later, she was flopped against him, her thighs parted enough to reveal the soaked crotch of her panties. He couldn't resist letting his fingers slide over the slick fabric, though there really was no disciplinary justification for it.
    Jamie responded with soft, soporific moans as he toyed with her pussy, petting her lips and clit over her panties, massaging the fabric against her wet slit. She came quietly, a shuddering climax that he could feel against his probing fingers. Then she fell asleep, still over his lap.
    He chuckled softly and eased her off his thighs and onto the bed, all without waking her up. Having a lady fall asleep under his fingers would normally be something of a blow to the ego, but in this case it was an expression of trust and relaxation that he found quite endearing. He made sure she was all tucked in and dropped a kiss on her sleeping brow.
    “Night, brat.”
    *****
    The next morning, Jamie wasn't sure where she was. Then the memories of the previous night came flooding back. There was Jack, the spanking, the pentagram in the steam on the bathroom mirror. Suddenly, her concern seemed almost comical. She felt almost as though she'd been caught sharing a fear of ghosts or something equally juvenile.
    Putting a hand to her head, Jamie wished fervently she hadn't called Jack. Now he was going to think she was all but afraid of the dark in addition to her other feminine weaknesses.
    “Idiot,” she lectured herself. “Just a smudge on a mirror.”
    A brisk knock on the door interrupted her self-loathing. “You up?” Jack's brogue rumbled through the wood.
    “Yeah,” Jamie called out. “I'm up.”
    “Get dressed and let's go.”
    Jamie scowled at the door. She did not particularly care for the way Jack so casually gave orders. Even simple ones like that grated. Still, there was no point arguing. When she sat up, she could feel the sting on cheeks that were no longer heated but somehow still tender from what had happened the night before.
    “God,” Jamie groaned to herself. It really couldn't get any worse. The orders, the spanking, the proprietary way Jack treated her, as if he owned her. She wasn't just Jack's rookie, she was his goddamn pet.
    She grumbled to herself as she dressed, glad she'd had the foresight to pack professional clothing. There was something about pulling a pair of pantyhose on that reminded her she was an independent woman. She pulled her knee length skirt on,