“Do your worse, I don’t give a fuck. Sir!” She deliberately added the sir as some kind of afterthought and knew that with her language still unaddressed there was more punishment to come.
“Oh, you will, or at least take one. Stay there, do not move and definitely do not touch yourself.”
She lay where he left her and smiled as she watched him leave the room. She had no clue where he was or what he was doing. She thought about the scenario of this; they’d agreed that Natasha would be defiant meaning she’d do the opposite of what she’d been told, so maybe she shouldn’t wait.
When he returned, Jim found her sitting in his chair, swirling around with her legs draped over the arms, her hand pressed firmly between her legs. He marched over and roughly pulled her hand away and stood her up. He was close enough that she could smell him and he smelled glorious, a mixture of his aftershave, shampoo, the effects of a day’s work and sex, or at least arousal, his and hers.
She stared up at him and desperately wanted to touch him again, to run her fingers through his hair, to pull him close and touch him and she suspected he felt the same as he lowered his lips towards hers, but just whispered menacingly, “Natasha, I’m going to spank you hard now; your foul mouth and your downright defiance needs to be tamed and I am going to do that. Every time you unleash that mouth and defy me I will bring you in here and lay you across my desk and spank you hard until you cry out an apology, a genuine one and I will use whatever means I need to achieve this, do you understand?”
She nodded and felt a hard strike across her bottom, but not his hand, it was the paddle and she was seriously turned on by this turn of events.
“Now put yourself across my desk and lift your skirt up so that I can spank you,” he ordered.
She paused, prepared to speak and wasn’t sure whether it was Natasha or plain old Tasha whose voice would come out, but it was neither she realised when he frowned at her, sat back in his chair and pulled her across his lap. “We’ll do it this way then.”
He held her pigtails together in the nape of her neck, laying his arm along her back controlling her head and upper body before he trapped her legs between his and with his free hand exposed her bottom.
“Are you ready? You want to do this?” he asked and she knew it was Tasha he was addressing.
“Yes.” There was nothing she wanted more. “Sir,” she added, refocusing them both on their roles.
Immediately the first blow from the paddle landed squarely across both cheeks making her cry out. He continued, without speaking, for another five blows. She thought that if she counted them then this would somehow order them and make the discomfort, no, the pain, easier to control, but she was wrong. She had no idea how many blows he intended to administer and although it was painful she still enjoyed it. Was this wrong? Was she weird, odd, fucked up like her family? Maybe, but she couldn’t get enough of this kinky stuff, of him.
She had now lost count and as the burning intensified she felt a hand stroking her hair, gently cupping her head, reminding her that this was not real, that she wasn’t really being punished and somehow that centred her. She absorbed the burn in her behind, embraced and owned it, the moment they were sharing. “I am sorry, sir.”
“For what, Natasha?”
“For everything, sir. Please, forgive me.”
“Maybe you are sorry for your defiance, but what about the swearing? Maybe I should silence your beautiful, but dirty mouth for a while.”
He released her from his grip and placed her on her knees before him. She stared at his crotch, then raised her gaze, taking in every inch of his glorious body. When she reached his chest he was removing his tie and undoing the top button on his shirt. God, he was absolutely gorgeous and suddenly she wanted him. Wanted him properly. Wanted James, her James, but the game wasn’t quite over yet.
“Maybe you should, sir,” she agreed and within what seemed like seconds she had released him from his trousers and boxers and was greedily feeding him into her mouth, sucking, licking and squeezing him for all she was worth.
As she felt him getting closer she began to speed up her efforts, but was disappointed when he pulled back and ordered her to stand. She complied, but felt unable to hide her disappointment. As he bent her over the desk again she was further disappointed when there was no smack or any fingers. Her disappointment was short lived when he pulled her hips closer and holding her firmly, thrust into her causing a loud, garbled cry to leave her gaping mouth.
“Is this what you want?”
“Yes please, sir,” she replied.
He immediately withdrew, pulled her off his desk and repeated, “Are you really sorry now, Natasha?”
She looked up at him and smiled as he bent his knees until they were eye to eye.
“Yes, very sorry, sir.”
“How sorry?”
He pulled and twirled her pigtails in one hand while the other settled on his own chest. Tasha’s gaze followed his hand down his body and stared wildly as he began to hold himself tightly, moving his hand back and forward.
“This sorry.”
She dropped to her knees again and without delay greedily consumed him, devouring him with everything she had and all that she was, desperate to give him the pleasure and release he always ensured she received. It seemed only a short time had passed until he was bucking frantically and emptying himself into her mouth.
She swallowed until he pulled himself free of her and held her hand to help her to stand again.
“I think you look amazing in your uniform, Tasha, and you should only ever have pigtails in here.”
