The question caught me off guard. Did I? I’d spent the past few weeks telling myself it was too harsh, that everyone made mistakes, that everyone deserved second chances. But sitting here across from Mike, with his eyes holding mine and demanding honesty, I couldn’t hide behind those justifications anymore.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, I deserved it.”
“Good girl.” The praise sent a confusing rush of warmth through me. “Now tell me why you deserved it.”
I forced myself to look at him, even though every instinct screamed at me to look away. “Because I cheated. Because I lied about it. Because I didn’t take responsibility for my own failures.” My voice broke. “Because I took the easy way out instead of accepting the consequences of not studying.”
Mike nodded slowly, and something in his expression shifted. Not anger, but something more intense. More purposeful.
“Laura,” he said, his voice dropping lower, “I can see you’re in desperate need of an old-fashioned spanking over the knee of a man who knows how to take a girl in hand properly.”
My breath caught in my throat, and I felt my whole body go hot and cold at the same time. I had the feeling that Mike had just picked me up and dropped me into a new, frightening—but also somehow exhilarating—world where gravity didn’t work the same way.
“Part of that kind of discipline,” he continued, his eyes never leaving mine, “is the inspection of a girl’s private parts. To ensure she feels the shame she should about having to be disciplined like a naughty little girl.”
I swallowed harder than I ever had in my life. This new world… hot, dark, and red… it contained only the man who had told me to call him sir.Oh, god.Oh, god, he was going to look at me there. He was going to… toinspectme. Examine the horrible seal, see everything…toucheverything.
“I think that’s especially important,” Mike said, and now there was a knowing edge to his voice that made my stomach drop, “in view of what I watched you doing this afternoon after your shower.”
My face blazed like the sun. He’d watched. I had tried to persuade myself that even if hecouldsee, he hadn’t actually seen. But no. The man who had given me $10,000 for a week had watched me grinding against the corner of the bed like a desperate animal. My hands flew to cover my burning cheeks, and a whimper escaped my throat.
“And in light,” he continued relentlessly, “of what has happened to your pussy as a result of your defiance at Selecta.”
The shame crashed over me in waves, so intense I thought I might actually pass out. He knew everything. He’d seen everything. The humiliating way I’d tried to get relief, the seal that marked me as too resistant to control myself, all of it.
But underneath the mortification, something else was building. That familiar, terrible heat between my legs intensified until I could barely breathe. My pussy clenched hard behind the seal, trying desperately to find sensation that didn’t exist, and I felt wetness beginning to gather at the tiny opening they’d left for me to pee.
I was getting aroused. Getting wet from the thought of being inspected, being spanked, being put in my place by this man who knew exactly what I needed.
What was wrong with me?
Mike pushed his chair back from the table with a scrape that made me jump. “Stand up,” he said, his voice calm and authoritative. “Come over here.”
My legs trembled as I obeyed, pushing my own chair back and rising on shaking knees. The few steps to where he sat felt like miles. When I stood in front of him, he looked up at me with those dark eyes, and I felt pinned in place, unable to move or look away.
“I’m going to take down your panties,” he said matter-of-factly, “and inspect your pussy and your bottom. Then I’m going to spank you over my knee. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I managed, my voice coming out as a tiny whisper.
“Good. Now lift your skirt for me.”
CHAPTER 11
Laura
My hands moved to the hem of my dress, my fingers clumsy as I gathered the red fabric and raised it slowly. The air felt cool against my bare thighs as I exposed the pretty white lace panties Selecta had provided with their terrible blend of innocence and lasciviousness. I held the dress bunched at my waist, my face burning so hot I thought I might actually combust.
Mike’s hand reached out, and I flinched slightly as his fingers made contact with the lace covering my hip. But his touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he stroked the delicate fabric.
“These are lovely,” he murmured, his palm sliding over the curve of my bottom through the panties. “Very pretty on you.”
His hand moved in slow circles, caressing me through the lace, and I had to bite my lip to keep from whimpering. The touch was so light, so deliberate, and it went on for what felt like forever. My legs began to tremble harder, and I wasn’t sure if it was from holding still or from the sensation of his hand on me.
Finally, his fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties. I felt him tug them down slowly, the fabric sliding over my hips, down my thighs, until they rested just above my knees. The exposure made me gasp—I was bare from the waist down in front of him, my dress still bunched in my fists at my hips.
Mike leaned forward slightly, and I felt his gaze on my most intimate place. The seal. I couldn’t see his expression from this angle, but I could feel the weight of his attention, the way he studied what they’d done to me.
Then his hand was there, touching me so gently I almost sobbed. His fingers traced the line where my outer lips had been pressed together, exploring the unnatural closure with what felt like a distressing degree of curiosity. The touch sent sparks of frustrated need through my core, and I felt more of my treasonous arousal pool near the tiny opening at the bottom.
