Page 28 of Rockland

His hand is now resting where the belt has left. Every hair on the back of my neck stands on edge and I hold in a lusty moan as his palm runs over the fullness of my bottom.

But where is he headed now? I freeze, my head turning over my shoulder to see him but I can’t. His hand has left the roundness of my cheeks and is now traveling over the crack of my ass. His fingertips press within, crawling downward toward my pussy. Dip between my thighs. I moan, spreading my legs further, allowing him easier access. I’m gushing. It feels so fucking good to be touched like this.

“Tsk. Tsk. Naughty girl—you’ve left a wet patch on your couch. Such a bad, bad girl. You’re absolutely dripping, and I’ve only struck you a few times.”

His fingers slide inside of me. Gently, slowly. I’m turning to liquid. Little mewing noises are rising in my chest. To be touched from behind after being punished with leather, wearing not a stitch of clothing—it’s the fantasy I never thought to imagine.

His words snap me from my thoughts. “This little yoni is just begging for more punishment, isn’t she?”

“Yoni?”

“Yes—the female sexual organ and place of life. A sacred temple. What do you call it?”

“Uh… my pussy?” I shift my weight, enjoying the pleasure he brings me as his finger slides up to my slick, swollen bud and presses it.

“Don’t you think she deserves a bit more respect than that? To be named after a kitten? You after all, are a panther, sweetheart.” His touch disappears from my pussy. I’m desperate for more stimulation and I whine. His hand slaps my bottom.

I respond, “Okay, sure—let’s call it that. But can you go back to doing that thing you were doing… to my… yoni?”

“Not when you’re being punished. I just needed to see your level of arousal. It seems you’re nowhere near done with your lesson. You’re still in the stage of just wanting your sexual desires filled. You need to reach a different place.” His hands go to my bare waist, pulling me from the couch. He turns me toward him, holding me by the shoulders.

I whisper, “What place is that?” My bare breasts stand at attention, wanting, waiting.

His gaze searches mine. “Submission.”

The word from his lips sends a thrill though me, a tremble dances down my spine. Breathlessly I ask, “And how does one get to this place of… submission?”

“I’ll show you.” He takes my hand and leads me around the back of the couch to the front. There’s imprints from my hands in the soft leather. He sits down. His thighs spread apart. He gives me a reprimanding look that sends shivery pulses down my back. His hand grasps mine and in one tug, he pulls my naked body over his lap. The fabric of his clothing is rough against the skin of my belly. I rest my upper body on the couch, folding my hands beneath my head. Trying to make myself comfortable. But every nerve in my body seems to be on high alert.

He says, “We’d do well to begin our time together with me teaching you a lesson in respect.”

Oh, yes, sir, please teach me a lesson! My pussy, still throbbing from his attention, gushes, eager for more pleasure.

But then, he’s spanking me. And it’s nothing like I expected. His hand is falling right, then left, right then left, in the same spot on alternate cheeks each time. It’s a sharp, hard slap. Expertly placed on the center of my jiggling cheeks. He’s spanking me over and over. It’s so much faster, harder than the belting, the pain comes quickly. He’s saying, “You’re going to be a good girl. And do what you’re told. Or you’ll be finding yourself in this position daily. And there will be no more panties around here. I want your bottom bare beneath your clothes every minute of the day as a reminder to behave.”

The sharp smacks rain down and it’s so painful, I want to block his hand with mine. But I know better than to reach back, protect myself. My hands curl in tight fists. Press against my cheeks. My face scrunching up as I try not to cry out. I can’t even contemplate the command he’s given me of no panties anymore—I’m too focused on my aching bottom.

His tempo accelerates. My ass is absolutely on fire. I can’t believe how much pain I’m in! I’ve never been spanked like this. Not even the first time when Rockland administered it. My legs start to kick, my hips wiggling, trying to escape his punishing hand. I can no longer hold in my cries and I shout, “Rockland, stop spanking me! I’ll be good! I promise I’ll be good.”

He swings his leg around, locking my legs to his and rendering them useless.

He says, “No kicking, Tessie. Take your punishment like a lady.”

I squirm. I whine, “What did I even do? Surely I’ve not been bad enough to deserve this.” My fingers wrap around the edge of the cushion, squeezing as if to alleviate the sting in my ass.

He keeps spanking as he speaks. “You most certainly have. You’ve not been taking care of yourself. Then, when I came here to do the job you haven’t, you’ve been nothing but sassy and difficult with me. This spanking is one you’ll not forget—one that will set the tone of what you can expect during my stay with you.”

His spanks stop for a moment. I sigh in relief. But then I sense his palm hovering over my poor, throbbing ass. A smack comes down, then more after that. But this time, each hearty smack is punctuated by a word. “I will be the head of this household.”

He knows these are the words I need to hear. He knows that the punishment, combined with his strict, yet caring words are what it will take to earn me.

My heart cries with relief. He’s giving me what I’ve needed for so long.

Overwhelmed with emotion, tears form in my eyes. They begin to fall freely. My bottom feels like one aching, fiery mess. It throbs so much I don’t even realize the punishment has ended. That his stinging palm is now gently caressing my ass. Great big sobs begin to rack my body as I lay limply over his lap. I’m a wreck. A mess.

With each sob, the anger leaves my body. Anger that I’ve kept pent up for two years. Anger at the world, fate, death. I cry and cry as my soul is cleansed of the weight I’ve been carrying.

And he just lets me cry.