The spanking started again, and it was vicious this time. I started to cry, and as his firm hand sliced into my skin again and again, I fought back, but finally relented, and then finally, because the pain was too intense to bear and the heat felt like a serious burn, I sobbed, “Okay, okay, okay. Please. Stop. Please, I can’t take any more.”
His hand ceased its sharp punishment of my bottom, and the wave of heat that rose off my skin was almost as bad as the spanking.
“Good, Natalia. That’s more like it. Submit to me, and tell me what I want to know, and you won’t need any more discipline.”
I was exhausted from so much kicking. Even if I wanted to resist him, I couldn’t. The only thing I didn’t want was to get spanked more, because of two things. One, I didn’t think I could handle it, and two, my body was betraying me in the worst of all way: by getting more turned on than I had ever been in my life.
“Okay,” I breathed. “Please. Please listen to me, please don’t spank me again. I swear I’m telling you the truth.” I had to catch my breath.
His hand rubbed my bottom. I didn’t know if it was a promise or a threat. My skin stung and my heart felt strangely crushed, and my pussy was throbbing with the kind of wild lust I swear I’d never felt in my life before. Fat tears dripped out my eyes. What a fine way to go.
“I’m ready for the truth, Natalia,” he said calmly, still rubbing my bottom.
I pondered for a second what to say, but I knew I didn’t have much time to ponder. This guy was not Mr. Patience.
Drugs. What kind of drugs would I use, if I used drugs? They called me Shirley Temple at work because that was the only drink name I could think of when I first ordered one, and I’d thought it had alcohol in it.
I heard those guys talk about drugs, so I knew the names of them and basically what they did. And I knew that Lucy had an opioid addiction, and half a dozen names of things she sometimes took. But they all scrambled in my head.
I didn’t use drugs, I wanted to scream.
But... that hand was going to start spanking me again if I gave the wrong answer, so...
“I’m waiting,” he said menacingly. “The truth should be easy to remember.”
I took a deep breath. “I can’t remember—”
He swatted me hard. “Don’t give me that.”
“I can’t... because... I am telling you the truth! I don’t do drugs!”
A final slap landed on my bottom, and tears erupted from my eyes, but he left his hand there, making the heat throb mercilessly on my skin. I was too tired to wriggle away from him.
I sobbed. “I don’t want to lie to you,” I blubbered. “Please don’t spank me again. I don’t know how... I don’t...”
Suddenly, it came to me.
“The cigarette,” I said. “That has to be it. It was someone else’s pack, I don’t even smoke, I just...”
I trailed off, waiting for another barrage of spankings, the torture of expecting them both cruel and delicious, my stomach twisting in the kind of knots I’d only ever gotten from racy late-night soft porn movies.
What the hell?
He patted my bottom.
There was a long pause, while I squinted my eyes shut, my bottom throbbing in expectation of more spanking.
Then he sucked in his breath. “The windows in this room are shatterproof, Natalia. The door is locked from the outside and there is no way for you to leave. Please do not engage in further... destructive activities attempting to do so.”
He lifted me up, so I was sitting on the bed, sniffling, trying to pull the sheet around me. His eyes took a long, hungry walk over me, but his face stayed immeasurably still, revealing nothing of what that hunger was about.
A chill traveled through me.
“I will bring you some clothing and some food, but if you attempt to destroy my property again, you will be quite soundly punished. Am I clear?”
I had a desire to tell him to fuck off, I really did, but I decided to play it smart. I was already calculating my next move, for one, and my bottom hurt so badly I didn’t dare say that to his face. Not right then.
“Okay,” I sniffled.
