Spanking Ms. Whitman by Kate Richards Read Free Book Online

moved to her side. When he bent to offer her the drink, she experienced an insane urge to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him. Then he wrapping her fingers around the icy bottle, and the sudden chill of the water against her sweaty palm broke the mood and saved her from making an utter fool of herself.
    Taking a long swallow, she sighed in relief. “Thanks, so much.”
    “You’re welcome.” With a pang, she watched him move back to his chair again. Curious how lonely she could be when he sat a few feet away.
    “Better?”
    “Yes, thank you.”
    “Sir.”
    Puzzlement colored her words. “I’m sorry?” Then his frown clarified the issue in her mind. “Oh, yes, sir.” She began to believe there was more to tonight than a spanking, but while curiosity sparked, her cautious heart warned her to be careful, not to rush things.
    “Fine, then here is what I will do to you this evening. Listen carefully, because I will need your agreement before we begin.” He paused and at her nod, continued. “I will ask you to remove your skirt, pull your panties down, and lie prone across my lap. While you are in this position, I will administer twenty slaps with the flat of my hand. You will count the smacks aloud.”
    She nodded again, her breath coming in short pants.
    “You must not try to block me or additional punishment will be added, that may include the use of a paddle.” He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a wooden instrument and she gasped.
    He hid a smile, and forced a frown to his lips. “Look familiar? I have several.” Putting it back in the drawer, he rested his palms on the desktop. “I may send you to stand in the corner.”
    She bobbed her head, so wide-eyed she found it difficult to blink.
    “If you are in agreement, if you will accept this punishment, I need you to say so—out loud, please.
    “Yes…yes, sir. I agree.” So much, I may come where I sit. Hell yes, I agree. Sensible thought reminded her if this little scene went wrong, he might not want her again, but she’d moved past caring. Years of fantasies and yearning won.
    “Shall we begin?”

Chapter Seven
     
    Brave words, but Mona’s knees knocked when she stood up from the world’s most uncomfortable chair and moved to stand by Mr. Marks. She faced the windows first, however, and presented him with her zipper.
    “Would you help me with this, please, sir? It’s hard to reach.”
    He rested one hand on the small of her back, holding the waistband in place, while he unzipped the skirt. When he let go, it fell to the floor and she kicked it away and spun to face him. “Thank you, sir.”
    The skirt was the easy part, though. She’d had it off earlier, and survived. The next step assailed her and her momentary energy faded. Eyes downcast, she hooked her fingers under the elastic band of her oh-so-ordinary white cotton panties, gritted her teeth, and pulled them down. When they reached her knees, he stopped her.
    “That’s far enough, for now.” He didn’t say more , but she knew what to do—the morning’s activities were burned in her brain. Awkward, with her underwear around her legs, she leaned across his lap, the wool slacks rough against her bare abdomen. He grasped her by the waist and lifted, moving her forward until her head hung down, the blood rushing to her brain—and her focus to her throbbing pussy. She couldn’t ever remember being so wet for any man, and this one only intended to spank her.
    She’d take what she could get—and make the most of it.
    “So, Miss Mona, once again we find ourselves in an interesting position.” He stroked her back in small, soothing circles, and the comfort of his gesture overwhelmed doubts, for the moment. She’d wanted his touch forever, and found it as delicious as she’d ever imagined, and more. “I don’t want to have to punish you, but it’s important you remember not to make the same mistakes over and over again.”
    She splayed her fingers on the floor, using them