Provenance Unknown. Yes, I used it before but I just REALLY like it!

She grabbed onto the covering of the sofa to try so hard to not block the really stinking spanking she was getting from him.

He hated for her to interfere and would likely reach over for a paddle or that horrid wooden spoon. She wouldn’t sit for two days if he used it!

Just an hour ago, things had been so different for her.

“Miss Jones, did you want to go with the original format or switch to what Creative is suggesting?” Emmanuel asked as he followed her down the hallway like a puppy dog.

Puppy was a good description for him since he needed to be trained like one and was yet to be fully house-broken. He kept making crap calls all over the place and she’d need to swat…his nose. Verbally only. He took her beratings with calm and submissive mein. It’s why he still had the job.

Miss Jones had give thought to testing that submissiveness and using the wooden paddle in her desk drawer. She kept it there with the fantasy of using it on one of her male employees. God, HR would have a hissy-fit!

Instead, she would just sit behind her desk, masturbate, and picture Emmanuel squealing, crying, and begging for mercy he’d never get. Mmm. It always worked so well.

She’d put out a half-dozen other fires at work. Being the managing editor of a successful fashion magazine was no job for sissies. Miss Jones knew she was called a cast-iron-bitch behind her back and sometimes to her face. She enjoyed the compliment.

Back in the present, she began to tear up and felt the pressure of a sob coming soon! He’d love that. He was really lighting up her bottom today! She wondered what had gone on for him that she was paying the price for it? Not that it mattered, it was her duty to give him such release and she truly wanted him to let it all out on her…even if it meant that damned spoon!

Jamie Jones was a complicated woman.

She’d known that since she hit puberty and became obsessed with getting spanked or paddled or even the belt. Ooo…the feel and sound of leather on her made her into something more slave than submissive. A deep, down part of her wanted to giggle at what Emmanuel and the other boys at work would do if they could see her right now.

Panties at half-mast, over the lap of a dominant man, being spanked like a naughty girl…and, ohhh, now sobbing like a repentant one! All the tension of her professional life was being washed away with tears. It was a small part of what she got from their dynamic.

She relished being told to shut up and come get her spanking when she walked in the door. She’d obeyed. Of course, she’d obeyed. Disobedience meant much worse punishments like Edging Torture, which he LOVED like most Doms. He might even deny her orgasms for a day or more. That had been a horrid weekend!! She never rolled her eyes at him every again.

Oh, fuck it, she thought. Letting go of the clenched armrest, she tried to reach back and cover her now flaming buttocks. She heard his surprise then his anger. The spanking stopped as he leaned to his right.

Shit shit shit shit shit, she waited.

THWWWAACKKK!!

She squealed and buried her face in the armrest now. That spoon was something else and he wasn’t slowing at all! Oh, was there enough ice in the freezer for her to sit on later? She prayed there was. Even though she knew she was a long way from being done with him, she thought of the icy numbness that would come from it.

After her paddling, she’d be kneeling before him to do her daily cock worship…he seemed so tense or upset. She’d do an extra special job of it this time and play with his taint. She knew where the spot was and he’d become a feral beast after that.

And as sore and red as her ass was going to be? She knew what he’d do with it, with her, she’d know for sure if he didn’t come from her worship because he wanted to explode in her ass instead. When he fucked her ass while angry, sh got a bit feral herself.

She found such profound peace and freedom in becoming his sex slave, sex toy, fuck toy, rag doll, and many more. It broke her out of the tight cocoon called reality and let her be the beautiful, kinky butterfly she was actually.

“Reach back. Spread them.” He growled.

She bit the fabric of the couch as she reached back to obey. It was really bad if he was going to paddle her tight hole. The fact he made her help him do so added a sweetened layer to her degradation at his hands. Might would be her fall tonight from grace but oh, how deeply fulfilling the orgasms were going to be. He’d make sure she did and more than once even.

She was content…even as she began to scream a little with each blow to her very, very sensitive spot now.