Disciplinary Measures by Cara Bristol Page B

hit her, and she widened her eyes. “You want to spank me?” she squeaked and then cleared her throat. They’d never done that before. Her pulse picked up a nervous beat. Whatever makes him happy. “All right.”
    His cock throbbed, precum pearling, and she couldn’t resist a lick before settling into place over his lap. His hardness nudged her hip, her breasts flattened against the mattress, and her legs stretched out.
    Regina jumped when he touched her butt, but he only kneaded it.
    “You have a luscious ass,” he said. “Soft, round.”
    “I’d rather have buns of steel.” She contracted her glutes.
    “Perfect the way it is.” He massaged her cheeks, then dipped his fingers between her legs and homed in on her clit. Rubbed in his surefire way. She moaned, moved against his skillful hand. It wouldn’t take much foreplay to bring her to orgasm. He knew her body so well. But when she almost reached the pinnacle, he withdrew his hand and smacked her ass.
    “Ow!” she cried. It wasn’t a very hard slap, but the sucker stung.
    He bounced his palm off her other cheek, harder still.
    “Ouch!” She laughed through the hurt. And people considered spanking fun? Erotic?
    After several strikes, she called a halt. “That’s enough.” She twisted onto her hip and braced herself on an elbow. He cupped her butt cheek to prevent her from falling onto the floor. “I don’t want to do this.” He’d only hit her a few times, but already her ass tingled and throbbed. Interesting . So was the twitch in her pussy.
    “Give it a chance,” he said. “We’ve just gotten started.”
    “That’s what I’m afraid of,” she said but settled into place again, noting that his cock had gotten even harder, if that was possible. Mellow. I want him mellow.
    He laid several hard smacks to the center of her cheeks, and she yelped with each one.
    “Move your hands,” he ordered when she instinctively covered the target area.
    “I can’t help it. It hurts,” she said.
    “It’ll hurt a whole lot more if I hit your wrists instead of your butt. Your ass has padding. Your wrists don’t.”
    She couldn’t argue with his reasoning, so she grabbed ahold of the sheet.
    A peppering of smacks cranked up the heat, and she understood why people referred to spanking as “burning a bottom.” That was how her butt felt. Scorched.
    She moaned after a hard one seared her skin. Linc slipped his hand between her legs again, found her clit, and stroked. He plunged two fingers into her pussy, and even before his grunt of satisfaction, she knew she was in deep trouble. Moisture drenched her cunt.
    Then he yanked her from his lap and hauled her onto her knees on the bed. Her breasts swung, the tips as hard as stones. They, like her pussy, knew what she had not: spanking aroused her in a bizarre way. He shoved her hand to her sex. “Make yourself come,” he growled and delivered an incentivizing smack to her ass.
    She couldn’t believe it. He’d ordered her to come! Who did he think he was? But if his behavior seemed inappropriate, hers was incomprehensible. Her stomach fluttered, and her pussy released an excited surge of wetness. Their positions, his dominant one, her defenseless, almost submissive one, sent a burst of lust coursing through her. Her body had never hungered for him as much as it did in that moment.
    While she masturbated, he spanked her. His breathing, heavy like a phone caller in the middle of the night; the crack of flesh hitting flesh; and her gasps provided a prurient sound track. Almost too wet, she had to move her fingers quickly and furiously to get good friction. The musk of her arousal filled her nose.
    Every time he landed his hand on her ass, she flinched with pain, yet each thwack shoved her closer to orgasm. His slaps became harder, sharper. Linc and Gina played in tandem—he spanked; she raised her hips for the stinging kiss. “Oh God, oh God,” she moaned, her fingers flying over her burning clit. “I’m