Chapter 3: Bend Over My Lap Please, and No Wiggling

Continued from chapter 2:

“This isn't me. None of this is me.”

She lifts her eyes to meet mine, pupils dilated, lips parted slightly.

“But I can't stop it. I can't stop the way my body responds to you. To this.”

A single tear slides down her cheek, mixing with the sweat on her brow.

“Please... make it stop. Make me stop.”

“No, I don't think I will. Julissa Corral, please lift your skirt for me and ask me to inspect your panties, please…”

Her hands shake violently as they move to the hem of her skirt. She tugs it up slowly, her face burning with humiliation, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts. The fabric bunches at her waist, revealing a pair of ridiculous leopard print satin panties with black lace trim that do nothing to hide the dampness forming between her thighs.

“P-please... inspect them.”

The words are torn from her throat, a mix of anguish and unwanted arousal. She bites her lip hard, trying to suppress the moan that threatens to escape as she feels the heat pooling in her core.

“I... I hate this. I hate you. I hate myself.”

Chapter 3:

Her fingers dig into her thighs, leaving pale marks against her skin.

“But I can't stop it. I can't stop wanting you to look. To touch. To claim me.”

Her voice drops to a broken whisper.

“Please…”

“Please what, Julissa? What would you like me to do?”

Her eyes widen in horror at her own words, the implication sinking in as her body betrays her again.

“I... I want you to touch me.”

The admission is ripped from her, raw and ****, as if she's confessing a sin she's spent a lifetime denying.

“I want you to... to take me. To use me. To make me feel every bit of degradation you can possibly imagine.”

Her hands fly to her mouth, as if to claw the words back, but they stay frozen in place.

“No. No, no, no.” She shakes her head violently, tears streaming down her face.

“That's not what I meant. I didn't mean... I can't…”

“Hold your skirt up for me, Julissa. Since you asked so nicely, I would be glad to inspect your panties.”

And inspect them I do. I run my hands all over the satin, invading all of her intimate areas as she seems helpless to stop me.

“Julissa, please tell me what this feels like, and not just from a sensory standpoint. How does it feel to have me, your underling, sitting in the boss's chair while you stand between my legs and allow me to grope these sexy panties that you clearly did not choose for me? You never imagined I'd have you this way, did you?”

Her hands tremble as they hold her skirt up, her face a mask of pure torment. She watches in horrified fascination as my hands roam freely over her underwear, each touch sending jolts of unwanted pleasure through her body.

“It... it feels like a violation. A complete, utter violation.”

Her voice is thick with shame, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

“I never imagined... I never thought I'd be reduced to this. By you.”

She closes her eyes tightly, as if willing herself to wake up from some terrible nightmare.

“You're right. I never imagined this.”

Her lips part on a shaky exhale, her body arching slightly toward my touch despite herself.

“I always thought I was in control. That I was the one who made people suffer.”

A bitter laugh escapes her, choked and broken.

“You enjoy taking human beings and dehumanizing them until they are no more than puppets, who dance when you play the music, Julissa. You know, what if I made you into my puppet? A real puppet?”

Her breath comes in shallow, panicked gasps as the words sink in. The sheer absurdity of the suggestion sends a ripple of terror through her, but even as she recoils, her body remains frozen in place, caught between revulsion and **** obedience.

“N-no.”

She shakes her head vehemently, her fists clenching at her sides.

“You don't understand. I... I can't be a puppet. I won't.”

Her voice cracks, a strange combination of defiance and despair seeping into her tone.

“But... but if you wanted to, you could.”

Her eyes dart to the floor, her face pale with realization.

“You already have. I’m already yours. Every part of me. Even the part that hates it. Even the part that wants to fight back.”

“Oh, you'll be a puppet. Just wait and see, but we need to limber you up a bit first. You sure were naughty earlier, Julissa, swearing at me like that.”

I rub her satin bottom.

“What do you think should happen to naughty girls, Julissa?"

Julissa's breath hitches as my fingers trace the curve of her buttocks, the silk of her panties offering little resistance. A shudder runs through her, a mix of outrage and something far more dangerous stirring within.

“I... I think they should be punished,” she forces out, each word a dagger to her pride.

“They should be made to understand their place.”

Her voice drops to a whisper, laced with self-loathing. “They should be... spanked.”

Her hands grip the edge of her skirt, knuckles whitening as she fights the tide of submission coursing through her.

“I... I've done that to others. I've made them beg. I've made them crawl.”

A hollow laugh escapes her.

“And now... now I'm the one begging.”

Her eyes glisten with tears she refuses to let fall.

“Beg me, Julissa. Beg me to spank you,” I command, my voice steady and firm.

Her body convulses with silent sobs, her nails digging into her palms as she battles the crushing weight of the command. The air tastes metallic in her mouth, her entire being screaming in protest while her mouth moves of its own accord.

“P-please...” The word is a broken thing, a sound of pure desperation.

“P-please spank me.”

Each syllable is dragged from her like a child refusing to let go of their favorite toy.

“I deserve it. I know I do.”

Her voice cracks, raw with humiliation.

“I'm... I'm such a bad girl.”

Her knees nearly buckle, her body swaying as if the weight of her own words is too much to bear.

“I swore at you. I... I talked back.”

She chokes on the words, her body writhing with conflicted emotions.

“Please... please make me learn my lesson.”

“Good girl,” I praise, my voice calm and collected.

“Now, bend over my lap, please, and no wiggling. Hold your bottom up and completely still for me. I'm going to spank it.”

Her body moves before she can stop it, bending at the waist as if possessed. She grips the seat of her skirt, lifting it higher than she ever would have dared, her panty-clad bottom exposed to my gaze. Each muscle in her body tenses, fighting against the overwhelming urge to flee, but her feet remain rooted to the spot.

“I... I can't believe I'm doing this,” she whispers, her voice a fragile thread, trembling with a mix of rage and something else entirely.

“This is wrong. So wrong.”

She swallows hard, her breathing shallow and erratic.

“Please... please don't make me feel this way.”

Her words are a plea, a prayer, a confession. Her entire being is a battlefield, torn between the instinct to resist and the cruel reality of her obedience.

“I don't want to like it.”

“Do you like it, Julissa?” I ask, my voice steady. “Are you excited about getting spanked by me?”

Her entire body goes rigid, the question hitting her like a physical blow. She wants to scream, to deny it with every fiber of her being, but the words refuse to come. Instead, her body answers for her, a slow, involuntary shiver running through her as her hips shift slightly, seeking more contact.

“N-no,” she breathes, her denial weak. Her hands clutch at her skirt, her nails biting into her thighs as if trying to ground herself.

“I'm not... I can't be.”

To be continued in chapter 4...