Teases get punished

The study door clicked shut with finality, the sound cutting through the thick silence like a judge’s gavel. James didn’t speak at first. He simply stood behind me, his body heat radiating against my back, his hands still clamped possessively around my waist. I could feel the tremor in his fingers—the same barely-leashed restraint I’d seen when he’d applied the lotion earlier.

“You’ve been a very bad girl, Felicity,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Teasing me for days. Parading that tight little body around my house. Making me so fucking hard I can barely think straight.”

A shiver ran down my spine. I arched back against him instinctively, pressing my ass into the hard line of his cock. “I’m sorry, James—”

“No.” His grip tightened, cutting me off. One large hand slid up my back and pressed between my shoulder blades, firmly bending me further over the mahogany desk. The cool wood kissed my breasts through the thin lace. “You’re not sorry yet. But you will be.”

His other hand moved slowly, deliberately, tracing down the curve of my spine until it reached the swell of my ass. He squeezed once, hard enough to make me gasp, then hooked his fingers into the waistband of my lace panties and dragged them down my thighs in one smooth motion. The cool air hit my bare skin, making me acutely aware of how exposed I was.

“Hands on the desk,” he ordered, voice dark. “And you’re going to apologise properly while I remind you who’s in charge.”

I obeyed, palms flat against the polished wood, heart hammering. The first smack landed without warning—his broad, calloused palm connecting firmly with my right cheek. The sharp crack echoed through the study, followed by a bloom of heat.

“Ah—!” I gasped, my body jolting forward.

“Say it,” he growled, rubbing the stinging flesh almost tenderly before delivering another firm spank to the same spot.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed, voice already trembling. “I’m sorry for teasing you…”

Another hard smack, this time on the left cheek. The sound was obscene. My thighs pressed together instinctively as fresh heat pooled between them.

“Again,” he commanded, spanking me twice in quick succession, harder this time. “Tell me exactly what you’re sorry for.”

“I’m sorry for wearing that tiny bikini,” I whimpered, my voice breaking as his hand came down again. “Sorry for bending over in front of you… for touching myself while you listened outside my door…”

Each confession earned another firm slap. His rhythm was steady, controlled, but growing firmer. My ass burned, the heat spreading deep into my core with every strike. I was dripping.

James leaned over me, his chest pressing against my back, his mouth right beside my ear. “And what else, little tease?”

“I’m sorry for making you so hard,” I moaned, pushing back into his next spank like a wanton. “Sorry for making you jerk off thinking about me while your wife was in the next room—”

A particularly sharp smack made me cry out, my knees buckling slightly. His hand stayed on my heated flesh this time, squeezing and kneading the sore skin possessively.

“Good girl,” he rasped, voice thick with lust. “Keep going.”

I was panting now, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes from the sting and the overwhelming arousal. “I’m sorry for driving you crazy… for making you want to fuck your daughter’s best friend on your own desk…”

His hand came down again, harder, and I moaned loudly, the sound echoing off the walls.

By the time he finally stopped, my ass was throbbing, hot and undoubtedly marked with his handprints. James’s breathing was ragged against my neck. One hand stayed possessively on my sore cheek while the other slid between my legs, finding me soaked.

“Such a filthy little apology,” he murmured, approval and dark promise in his voice. “But I’m not sure you’ve learned your lesson yet…”