“Turn around,” he said quietly.
I shuffled in place, my panties restricting my movement, until I faced away from him. My hands still clutched my dress at my waist, holding the skirt high, offering my bare bottom to the man who had paid so handsomely for the privilege of looking at it.
I could sense Mike looking closely at my whipped cheeks, studying the marks that Hank the orderly had left with that awful cane. The welts had faded somewhat over the past couple days, but I knew they were still visible—six parallel lines of reddened flesh across the fullest part of my bottom cheeks.
“These marks are very pretty,” Mike said, and his tone held genuine appreciation that made my stomach clench with mortification. “They suit you.”
My face burned hotter. How could he say that? How could he think the evidence of my punishment waspretty? But even as shame flooded through me, I felt my sealed pussy clench hard, trying desperately to find sensation that didn’t exist.
Then, to my absolute horror, I felt Mike’s hands on my bottom cheeks. His fingers gripped gently, and he pulled them apart, spreading me open. Cool air kissed the most private place on my body—the place Nurse Samuels had examined with that horrible speculum.
“And this,” Mike murmured, his voice warm with what sounded like affection, “is absolutely adorable.”
I wanted to die. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole. He was looking at my anus, calling it adorable like it was something precious rather than the most mortifying part of my anatomy to have exposed to a man I’d met only hours ago.
The words burst out of me before I could stop them. “Are you going to unseal me?” My voice came out high and desperate. “Are you going to… to deflower me tonight?”
Mike’s hands stilled on my bottom, and I felt him release me, letting my cheeks fall back together. He turned me around gently, his hands on my hips, until I faced him again. His dark eyes held mine, and something in his expression made my breath catch.
“I have the solvent in my pocket,” he said, and my heart leaped with desperate hope. “But I’m going to wait to fuck you, sweetheart.”
Shameful, unforgivable disappointment hit me so hard it brought a new wave of embarrassed heat to my face. “What? But I thought?—”
“If you’re a good girl,” he continued, his voice dropping to that low, commanding tone that made my knees weak, “there will be a reward for you tonight. In addition to the training I’m going to give you.” His fingers traced idle patterns on my hip under my bunched dress. “Training to help you please me more and more as you learn to serve a man properly.”
The words sent a confusing mixture of relief and frustration through me. He wasn’t going to take my virginity tonight. I should have been grateful, should have felt safer knowing he was willing to wait. But instead, all I could focus on was the terrible, aching need between my legs and the knowledge that he could relieve it, but was choosing not to.
As if my body wanted to betray me further, I felt wetness begin to trickle, definitely trickle, from inside to outside, out of the tiny opening at the bottom of my sealed labia. It didn’t stop. I felt it sliding down the inside of my thighs, leaving a cool trail against my skin that made my mortification complete. I couldn’t hide it, couldn’t stop it, couldn’t do anything but stand there with my dress bunched at my waist and my panties around my knees while evidence of my desperate need literally dripped down my legs.
I could almost sense Mike’s eyes tracking the humiliating little stream. I could almost see his expression shift into something darker, more intense. “I appreciate,” he said slowly, his voice thick with what I could only describe as hunger, “how badly you obviously need to have your pussy opened on a man’s hard cock.”
Before I could process the words, before I could even draw breath to respond, Mike’s hands gripped my waist and he lifted me bodily. The world spun as he upended me over his left knee, and I let out a startled yelp as I found myself suddenly horizontal, my bottom raised, my hands scrabbling for purchase on the floor.
Then his right leg came down hard over the backs of both my knees, pinning my legs together, trapping me completely. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t escape. I was held fast over his left knee with my bare bottom presented for punishment.
The first spank landed like a thunderclap.
Pain exploded across my right cheek, so sharp and intense that I cried out. Before I could even process it, his hand came down on the left side. Then the right again. Then the left. Over and over, a relentless rhythm that built into a crescendo of burning agony.
He didn’t count. Didn’t say anything at all. Just spanked and spanked and spanked until I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but sob and gasp and try desperately to squirm away from his punishing hand.
But I couldn’t move. His leg held my knees pinned, and his left arm pressed against my back, keeping me in place. All I could do was take it, each impact sending fresh waves of fire through my bottom.
“Please,” I gasped out between sobs. “Please, I’m sorry, please stop?—”
The spanking continued without pause. My bottom felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming in protest. The welts from the caning had re-ignited instantly, the fresh spanking overlaying the old punishment until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
“Please!” I was begging now, my voice breaking into desperate sobs. “Sir, please, I can’t?—”
“The first thing you need to learn,” Mike said, his voice calm and measured even as his hand continued its relentless assault on my burning bottom, “is that your sponsor will decide when you’ve had enough punishment.”
The words penetrated through my haze of pain and desperation. He would decide. Not me. I didn’t get to say when it was enough. I didn’t get to control this. All I could do was surrender to it. The spanking went on until I was screaming. Not crying anymore, not begging—just screaming, raw sounds torn from my throat that I couldn’t control. And then, suddenly, it stopped.
Mike’s hand settled on my burning bottom, and instead of striking, he began to rub. Gentle circles that should have soothed, but instead sent sparks of an entirely different sensation through me. My body went rigid over his lap, and I felt myself clench—clench harder than I’d ever clenched in my life.
Oh, god. Oh, god, I was close. I was actually close to coming.
“That’s it,” Mike murmured, his palm massaging my punished flesh with maddening tenderness. Then his hand lifted and came down again—not as hard as before, but firm enough to make me gasp. He alternated between fondling and spanking, each gentle caress followed by a sharp smack that made my whole body jolt.
