“Five, I guess.”
“That was my idea of a three, with that handful of swats I laid across the backs of your thighs being the only reason I’m not labeling it a two.” He gestured between them. “Two different people; two distinct definitions of hard.”
“Oh,” she said, because he seemed to be expecting some kind of response. “I see.”
“Not yet you don’t, but you will because I intend to bring our differing definitions into very sharp alignment right now.” He jerked his thumb at her. “Stand up. Remove your uniform.”
The spasm that shivered her was a mingling of both electrified arousal and no small amount of panic. It tightened in her chest, crawling up her legs and across the backs of her thighs, making her skin prickle. She couldn’t make her legs move right away, and for a few seconds, only sat there staring up at him with hugely rounded eyes. “O-off?”
“You don’t think you’re in enough trouble? You’re seriously going to make me repeat myself?” He still didn’t look angry, but his irritation seemed to kick up a notch. “Skirt and panties, right now. Take. Them. Off.”
Kaylee stood up, her hands trembling as she fumbled with the clasp at the back of her skirt. Unzipping herself, she pushed it down her legs and stepped out of the plaid puddle. She touched the elastic of her underwear, but couldn’t quite bring herself to push them down. And that was silly, really. A flush of heat stole up from her belly, burning outward through all the rest of her. Having already spanked her once, Master Marshall was well introduced not just with her bare bottom, but her widely-splayed legs and every feminine secret she held between them. He’d touched her there, stroked her, slipped his fingers up inside her and fondled her into fierce orgasm. So why was she suddenly so shy? Why was she trying to tug at the hem of her too-short white blouse as if she could pull it down far enough to shield her sex from his hard gaze?
“Off,” he told her, pitiless. “And kindly remember, my office is not your bedroom floor.”
Kaylee scooped up her discarded skirt and folded it neatly with shaking hands. When he held out his hand, not knowing what else to do, she passed it to him. When he continued to keep his hand held out, she lowered her hands to her panties and reluctantly took them off. When she laid them, a meekly-folded square of white cotton, on top of the skirt, he tossed both onto the edge of his desk and pointed to the armoire-style cupboard set against the wall between the fireplace and the door. “Go, open it. I want you to be honest with me and with yourself. You’re to select whichever implement you think is best suited for the punishing of liars and bring it to me. You want to feel your bottom burn, fine. I’m going to teach you the wisdom behind that old adage: Be careful what you wish for.”
That spasm hit her again, tightening the knots inside her so violently that it felt almost painful.
“March, Ms. Waters,” he warned, when she was slow to obey. “And I suggest you pick very carefully. I expect you to bring me something equal to your misbehavior, or I’ll send you back a second time and you’ll be spanked with both. Either way, you are going to be one very sore and very sorry little girl before I’m done.”
A peculiar squirmy feeling wriggled into the pit of her stomach and tried to hide from him there. It was an odd sensation, being forced to walk half-naked across the room, to open up those plain cupboard doors and pick the implement that would then be used to spank her. A real spanking. For lying. Exactly what she had asked for, right? She squirmed again, wringing her fingers as she carefully looked over her choices.
If he didn’t have every form of implement known to Man, then Kaylee wasn’t experienced enough to know what was missing. There were paddles of varying shapes and thickness, ranging in size from no larger than the palm of her hand to a frat-style
“That was my idea of a three, with that handful of swats I laid across the backs of your thighs being the only reason I’m not labeling it a two.” He gestured between them. “Two different people; two distinct definitions of hard.”
“Oh,” she said, because he seemed to be expecting some kind of response. “I see.”
“Not yet you don’t, but you will because I intend to bring our differing definitions into very sharp alignment right now.” He jerked his thumb at her. “Stand up. Remove your uniform.”
The spasm that shivered her was a mingling of both electrified arousal and no small amount of panic. It tightened in her chest, crawling up her legs and across the backs of her thighs, making her skin prickle. She couldn’t make her legs move right away, and for a few seconds, only sat there staring up at him with hugely rounded eyes. “O-off?”
“You don’t think you’re in enough trouble? You’re seriously going to make me repeat myself?” He still didn’t look angry, but his irritation seemed to kick up a notch. “Skirt and panties, right now. Take. Them. Off.”
Kaylee stood up, her hands trembling as she fumbled with the clasp at the back of her skirt. Unzipping herself, she pushed it down her legs and stepped out of the plaid puddle. She touched the elastic of her underwear, but couldn’t quite bring herself to push them down. And that was silly, really. A flush of heat stole up from her belly, burning outward through all the rest of her. Having already spanked her once, Master Marshall was well introduced not just with her bare bottom, but her widely-splayed legs and every feminine secret she held between them. He’d touched her there, stroked her, slipped his fingers up inside her and fondled her into fierce orgasm. So why was she suddenly so shy? Why was she trying to tug at the hem of her too-short white blouse as if she could pull it down far enough to shield her sex from his hard gaze?
“Off,” he told her, pitiless. “And kindly remember, my office is not your bedroom floor.”
Kaylee scooped up her discarded skirt and folded it neatly with shaking hands. When he held out his hand, not knowing what else to do, she passed it to him. When he continued to keep his hand held out, she lowered her hands to her panties and reluctantly took them off. When she laid them, a meekly-folded square of white cotton, on top of the skirt, he tossed both onto the edge of his desk and pointed to the armoire-style cupboard set against the wall between the fireplace and the door. “Go, open it. I want you to be honest with me and with yourself. You’re to select whichever implement you think is best suited for the punishing of liars and bring it to me. You want to feel your bottom burn, fine. I’m going to teach you the wisdom behind that old adage: Be careful what you wish for.”
That spasm hit her again, tightening the knots inside her so violently that it felt almost painful.
“March, Ms. Waters,” he warned, when she was slow to obey. “And I suggest you pick very carefully. I expect you to bring me something equal to your misbehavior, or I’ll send you back a second time and you’ll be spanked with both. Either way, you are going to be one very sore and very sorry little girl before I’m done.”
A peculiar squirmy feeling wriggled into the pit of her stomach and tried to hide from him there. It was an odd sensation, being forced to walk half-naked across the room, to open up those plain cupboard doors and pick the implement that would then be used to spank her. A real spanking. For lying. Exactly what she had asked for, right? She squirmed again, wringing her fingers as she carefully looked over her choices.
If he didn’t have every form of implement known to Man, then Kaylee wasn’t experienced enough to know what was missing. There were paddles of varying shapes and thickness, ranging in size from no larger than the palm of her hand to a frat-style
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