“Come stand by me, Valerie.”
Oh, God.This was really happening.
I looked at him sitting there, at his large hands resting on his thighs, and I knew exactly what he intended to do. He was going to pull me over his lap. He was going to pull down my jeans—my jeans that were already unbuttoned—and he was going to spank me like a naughty little girl.
My body moved before my mind could catch up.
I ran for the door. I didn’t make it three steps before his hand closed around my wrist.
“Let go!” I shrieked, trying to twist away, but Chris was so much stronger than me. He pulled me back effortlessly, lifting me off my feet as if I weighed nothing at all.
“Chris, no, please?—”
He carried me to the bed, my legs kicking uselessly in the air. When he sat down, he positioned me with an ease that I thought with a rush of heat to my cheeks felt practiced—skillful, even. My fiancé simply toppled me forward over his left knee with my face in the covers and his iron left hand atop my waist to hold me in place.
Before I could scramble away, his right leg clamped down across the backs of my knees, trapping me completely. I was bent over his lap, my hands trying desperately to find purchase on my pink comforter, my bottom raised high in the most humiliating position imaginable.
“Are you going to take down your jeans and panties for me,” he asked, his voice maddeningly calm, “or do I have to do that?”
The question sent a jolt of terror through me. He wanted me to bare myself. To pull down my own clothes and expose my bottom to him.
“If you obey me, and do it yourself,” he continued, “I’ll make the spanking less severe.”
“I won’t!” The scream tore from my throat. “I won’t, I won’t, I won’t!”
I felt his right hand at my waist, his fingers hooking into the already unbuttoned waistband of my jeans. He tugged them down with firm, deliberate movements, taking my panties with them.
The cool air hit my bare skin and I realized with horror that he could see everything. The smooth, waxed skin. The wetness that had to still be there from what I’d been doing when he walked in.
“I’m going to spank you until you tell me you’ll get dressed,” Chris said.
Then his hand came down on my bare bottom.
The first smack shocked me more than it hurt. The sound of it—sharp and loud in the quiet room—made me gasp. But the second one stung, and the third one burned, and by the fourth I was already squirming desperately over his lap. The thought that my best friend—that everyone in the house, maybe—could hear what had befallen the disobedient bride brought a wrenching sob from my chest.
“Chris, stop! Please!”
He didn’t stop. His hand rose and fell with terrible rhythm, each slap landing on a different spot, covering my entire bottom with burning heat. I tried to kick my legs, but his right leg held them firmly pinned. I tried to reach back with my hands, but he caught both wrists easily in his free hand and held them against the small of my back.
“You’re going to learn to obey me, Valerie,” he said, punctuating each word with another sharp smack. “Starting right now.”
The pain was building into something unbearable. My bottom felt like it was on fire. Tears streamed down my face and I couldn’t catch my breath between sobs.
But underneath the pain, underneath the humiliation of being spanked like a child with my bare bottom exposed over my fiancé’s lap, that terrible warmth between my legs was growing stronger.
What was wrong with me? Why did this make me feel that way?
“Are you going to put on your lingerie?” Chris asked.
“No!” I sobbed, even though I knew it would only make the spanking continue.
And it did. His hand came down harder now, faster, finding the sensitive spots where my bottom met my thighs. I couldn’t hold still anymore. My hips writhed over his lap, seeking relief that didn’t exist, and I felt my body pressing against his thigh in a way that made that shameful warmth rise even higher.
The spanking went on and on, until I couldn’t think anymore, couldn’t do anything but cry and feel. Feel the burning pain across my bottom. Feel the heat between my legs. Feel my body moving against his thigh in ways I couldn’t control.
“I’ll do it!” The words burst from me finally, driven more by the mortification of my own arousal than by the pain itself. “I’ll… I’ll obey you! I’ll get dressed!”
The spanking stopped immediately. Chris’s hand rested on my burning bottom, and I felt him looking down at me.
