"Back a step," he ordered. "Then stand there."

Despite her less than reliable knees, she managed to do as he'd commanded. Her arms were still locked over her breasts, her legs now together in a belated attempt to keep her arousal from him. He patted his lap.

"Put your belly there, now."

He was going to spank her. There'd be no getting away. Defeated, she positioned herself so her knees were against his left leg. She started to bend over then paused so she could extend her hands to keep from falling. When her palms came in contact with his jeans' covered thigh, she impulsively jerked them away. Before he could make fun of her or even worse add to her punishment, she resigned herself to stretching out over his lap. Her fingers dangled nearly to the carpet. Despite the strain in her neck, she kept her head up.

"Obedience is good," he said. "Not the same as not angering me in the first place but far better than useless resistance."

Hoping he didn't expect a response, she ground her teeth together. Thank goodness her mother wasn't alive to know about this shameful moment.

"Your ass is as firm as I figured it would be." He reinforced his comment by rubbing both cheeks. The pressure pushed her mons against his thigh. The desire she'd tried to convince herself had died raged back to life. Maybe it had never left.

"Boys have toys," he continued. "Trucks and video games, sporting equipment and computers. Men's interests aren't nearly as varied. Bottom line most of them want the same thing, a piece of ass."

Most women wanted the same thing, just change female asses for male ones, not that she'd tell him.

"When you get down to it, an ass is a simple thing." The rubbing continued, now centered on her tailbone. "It isn't good for much except giving the owner something to sit on. What matters is what that sweet flesh leads to."

He seemed to like talking. If he decided to punish her another time, she'd listen, but now belonged to her, to the blood pooling in her forehead, her tingling fingers, her slightly separated legs, and the repeated lie that this wasn't happening. Couldn't be.

"I nearly broke my back skiing when I was fifteen," he said. "Landed right here." He flicked her tailbone with a forefinger. "The next day when I couldn't sit, my folks insisted on taking me to the doctor. I had a hell of a bruise there along with proof of how sensitive that area is." He flicked the same spot again. She jolted and tried to wiggle free.

"No, absolutely no." He hauled her back in place. "I will have you right here with that delicious ass in full view and accessible."

Worrying about his plans for her backside was exhausting her so she lowered her head in an attempt to conserve energy. Unfortunately, that gave her too much opportunity to acknowledge what he was seeing. Her clothes had probably left indentations in her flesh plus he'd know if she tightened her pussy muscles which she could barely keep from doing. She supposed she should be grateful because his jeans provided a barrier between his thighs and her juices, but he had other ways of checking her arousal.

She was aroused, darn it. How could it be otherwise when he stopped concentrating on the base of her spine and scratched her buttocks? He was being so damn gentle about it, light teasing touches akin to tickles, almost as if he was putting off an unpleasant task.

He didn't want to spank her. Preferred familiarizing himself with her body while seeing if he could make her moan. Groans and signs were so close. They'd backed up in her throat along with pleas and promises. If he'd fuck her or let his fingers do the job, she'd wrap her lips around his cock in gratitude, even, maybe, take him up her ass.

Could she do that? She'd never ass fucked a man, but today was different-in every way.

"Your body keeps betraying you," he said. "Doing things you don't want it to, surrendering when you long to resist." He seized both of her ass cheeks and shook them. "Am I repeating myself? Maybe."

"Don't, damn it."

Movement stopped but not the hard grip. She couldn't believe she'd said what she had. Afraid of what more she might say, she tried to look back and up at him but only succeeded in making her neck protest.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

He squeezed. "You forgot something."

Ow! "What? Oh my-what?"

"Sir or Mr. Hunt."

She'd done it again, let the instinct for survival get in the way of doing what was expected of her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean, please, I'm sorry."

"Not enough." He shook her again then let go.

In the short amount of time he'd held her buttocks they'd started to go numb which seemed impossible considering the fiery pain where his fingers had dug in. Until he telegraphed what he had in mind to do next, she'd focus on trying to get that part of her anatomy to feel normal again. Much as she hated this helpless anticipation, there was no denying she was still turned on. Shouldn't she be so anxious that nothing else mattered?

"Think," he ordered. "Focus on what you said that got you in trouble. What was it?"

"I don't remember."

"Should I believe you?"

Before she could decide on a response, he struck her. The blow landed on her right cheek, hard enough to make her yelp. She tried to twist away. The effort earned her a heavy hand between her shoulder blades. She knew better than try to fight the weight but did so anyway. The pressure increased.

"Fight or submit. The outcome's going to be the same." He punctuated his comment with a second swat. This one struck her left cheek. Again she yelped.

"Come on. You must have been hurt worse than this."

As if making a point only he cared about, he repeatedly struck her increasingly sensitive flesh. He wasn't using all his strength, but it was enough, much more than she wanted. Her body shook and shuddered. She curled her toes in her boots and tore out carpet fibers, breaking several nails in the process. Her head was up, then down. No matter how much it probably angered and disappointed him, she couldn't stop fighting the pressure on her back.

She had to get away! Had to find a way to make him stop!