If she weren’t already feeling like such a failure, it might have been the most erotic sensation she’d experienced all day. Well, apart from the orgasm Master Marshall had stroked from her as she’d stood with her nose in the corner and her aching bottom crushed up against his obvious erection. That ranked pretty high on the list, too.
She looked at his hands, blushed hot, and then made herself look away.
Studying her silently, he closed her file and dropped the pen on his desk. He folded his hands over the top of both. “So, what happened?”
Picking imaginary bits of lint off her skirt, Kaylee shrugged one shoulder.
His expression changed, melting into a Look stern enough to make her fingers still and her stomach. “I asked you a question, young lady, and I will not be shrugged at. What happened?”
Thrown into the defensive, Kaylee couldn’t stop herself. Her hands erupted from her lap into another, even more exaggerated shrug. “I don’t know! I wish I did. I just…it felt wrong! Everything feels wrong!”
“Okay.” Setting her file aside, Master Marshall left his chair and came around the desk to perch on the edge. He folded his arms across his chest and pinned her with that frowning, assessing Look. “It’s the spanking that draws you the most, is that correct?”
Kaylee burned hotter. She nodded. “Yes.”
“All right, then. Tell me about the first adult spanking you ever received—where were you, what was used, who gave it to you. Everything.”
Her face flamed. Her fingers fidgeted endlessly, picking at one another and at her sleeves, at all those specks of imaginary lint. “Um…”
And the truth shall set her free—she winced, shifting in her seat—or considering she’d already lied to him, it could also get her money promptly refunded and her ass thrown onto the first bus for home. She chewed her bottom lip in indecision, but after a brief mental debate, she finally told the truth. It was a grudging, halting process and it could not have been more reluctantly given had he pried the information from her with a rusty crowbar.
“It was, um, in an office, with his hand, and…” She cringed even more, painfully aware that her confession was starting to sound like a really screwed up game of Clue. “…um…it was you.”
He studied her silently and his expression did not change. Finally, he asked, “You’re telling me you’ve never been spanked before today?”
“Not even as a kid,” she confessed. She chewed her bottom lip until it hurt, wishing she knew how to read him. He didn’t look angry. He was a far cry from pleased, but at least he didn’t look angry. That had to be a good thing, right?
“Just so I know I understand.” He reached behind him, opened her folder and held up her application. “You’re also saying that this application, which you declared on multiple occasions—online, at orientation and then again in front of me, directly to my face, I might add—declared it to be as truthful as you can make it, is in fact a work of utter fiction.”
Still not angry. He was starting to look a little irritated, though. She fidgeted, twisting and twisting her fingers in the folds of her schoolgirl skirt until they began to throb in the tips from lack of blood flow. “Yes, sir.”
“Total twaddle. Complete bupkis.”
“Yes.”
“There’s not one question honestly answered anywhere in these pages?”
She winced. “My name might be right.”
He was not amused. “Don’t get cute with me. You lied from start to finish.”
“I didn’t want you to think I was a novice,” she protested.
“You are a novice!”
“But I didn’t want you to think I was!”
“Why in God’s name not?”
“Because I don’t want to get matched up with someone—”
“Who has the experience to help you explore the different nuances of the fetish, offering gentle guidance while you learn what does and does not work for you?”
“—who’ll treat me as if I’m so
She looked at his hands, blushed hot, and then made herself look away.
Studying her silently, he closed her file and dropped the pen on his desk. He folded his hands over the top of both. “So, what happened?”
Picking imaginary bits of lint off her skirt, Kaylee shrugged one shoulder.
His expression changed, melting into a Look stern enough to make her fingers still and her stomach. “I asked you a question, young lady, and I will not be shrugged at. What happened?”
Thrown into the defensive, Kaylee couldn’t stop herself. Her hands erupted from her lap into another, even more exaggerated shrug. “I don’t know! I wish I did. I just…it felt wrong! Everything feels wrong!”
“Okay.” Setting her file aside, Master Marshall left his chair and came around the desk to perch on the edge. He folded his arms across his chest and pinned her with that frowning, assessing Look. “It’s the spanking that draws you the most, is that correct?”
Kaylee burned hotter. She nodded. “Yes.”
“All right, then. Tell me about the first adult spanking you ever received—where were you, what was used, who gave it to you. Everything.”
Her face flamed. Her fingers fidgeted endlessly, picking at one another and at her sleeves, at all those specks of imaginary lint. “Um…”
And the truth shall set her free—she winced, shifting in her seat—or considering she’d already lied to him, it could also get her money promptly refunded and her ass thrown onto the first bus for home. She chewed her bottom lip in indecision, but after a brief mental debate, she finally told the truth. It was a grudging, halting process and it could not have been more reluctantly given had he pried the information from her with a rusty crowbar.
“It was, um, in an office, with his hand, and…” She cringed even more, painfully aware that her confession was starting to sound like a really screwed up game of Clue. “…um…it was you.”
He studied her silently and his expression did not change. Finally, he asked, “You’re telling me you’ve never been spanked before today?”
“Not even as a kid,” she confessed. She chewed her bottom lip until it hurt, wishing she knew how to read him. He didn’t look angry. He was a far cry from pleased, but at least he didn’t look angry. That had to be a good thing, right?
“Just so I know I understand.” He reached behind him, opened her folder and held up her application. “You’re also saying that this application, which you declared on multiple occasions—online, at orientation and then again in front of me, directly to my face, I might add—declared it to be as truthful as you can make it, is in fact a work of utter fiction.”
Still not angry. He was starting to look a little irritated, though. She fidgeted, twisting and twisting her fingers in the folds of her schoolgirl skirt until they began to throb in the tips from lack of blood flow. “Yes, sir.”
“Total twaddle. Complete bupkis.”
“Yes.”
“There’s not one question honestly answered anywhere in these pages?”
She winced. “My name might be right.”
He was not amused. “Don’t get cute with me. You lied from start to finish.”
“I didn’t want you to think I was a novice,” she protested.
“You are a novice!”
“But I didn’t want you to think I was!”
“Why in God’s name not?”
“Because I don’t want to get matched up with someone—”
“Who has the experience to help you explore the different nuances of the fetish, offering gentle guidance while you learn what does and does not work for you?”
“—who’ll treat me as if I’m so
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