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Think Before You Act!
by Lizbeth Dusseau
(c)
1999 all rights reserved
From
Reckless Disregard Paperback
From
Reckless Disregard Ebook
Her
first spanking ….
My knock on Bridget’s apartment door was loud enough to
wake the dead, but apparently not loud enough to rouse someone
from the shower. Didn’t matter though. Testing the knob, I
found the door unlocked, and figured one way or another I’d
get a better fix on my client and her case—if she had one.
Not expecting anyone to be there, Bridget jumped a mile
seeing me wandering through the apartment. She was right—the
place was beautiful. And by the looks of it, she and her
roommate weren’t hurting for money. Bridget’s allowance may
be a pittance, but it appeared she’d already inherited a few
of the family treasures.
“Mr. Fox!”
“Might as well call me Geoff after last night,” I
said.
“But you didn’t need to come.”
“Oh, I sure as hell did,” I assured her. I noted her
short silk bathrobe, which fit perfectly in my plans. “What do
you think you were doing coming back here by yourself?”
She shivered and smiled cutely, and of course, my cock
was starting to throb. But then, I had a few other things in
mind before anything like
that was going to take place.
“I figured it would be safe…” she said with a look
go sweet innocence on her face.
“I thought I told you to stay put.”
“Well, not in so many words.”
“But it was an understanding, young lady. You call me
hysterically in the middle of the night, I rescue you from lord
knows what fate because you don’t know where the hell you are,
and then you run off before I get up this morning. Don’t you
ever think?”
She winced. “That was stupid, huh?”
“Yeah, it was stupid. And I think it’s time you had
that spanking.”
She looked surprised. “Are you serious?”
“Oh, you bet I am.”
We were standing near the kitchen, where what I needed
was hanging on the wall in plain sight—a big flat wooden
spoon, one of those that’s part of a set. Tearing it from the
wall, my dander was up and she knew it. I saw her tremble, at
the same look at me excitedly, as though this was exactly what
she wanted me to do.
“I don’t know what your reasoning was, but if you
thought coming back here would send me over the edge, well you
figured that one right. If you think I’d let you come here
alone, you don’t know me very well.” I was steps from the
shivering young woman, her hair was wet and clinging to her
shoulders, and the closer I got the more she started to look
like the drowned rat I picked up on the street hours before.
Taking her firmly by the arm, I led her to the prim little
button-tufted settee in the living room. The seat was solid
under my ass, and feeling mighty good. Pulling Bridget
Bennington over my lap felt just as satisfying, and she didn’t
balk one bit. If anything, I think the reckless brat was eager
for it—if that was possible. I expected she wouldn’t be as
eager by the time I finished.
There wasn’t much point in protecting her sassy ass,
since the robe barely covered her lovely behind—besides I
wanted the satisfaction of seeing it redden before my eyes.
Those long and very interesting conversations with my spanking
aficionado client were suddenly so fresh in my mind, it could
have been yesterday that I had one of the stirring discussions.
I could see why there was such a fascination with the practice,
with the ritual and the form involved. Though right now, I
didn’t care about form; my entire pissed off being was anxious
to get on with the spanking.
Pushing the robe away with my hand, I bared her twin
mounds and they almost took my breath away—so white, so
gloriously white, like pristine fields of pale snow in the
morning light. They jiggled slightly as I adjusted her on my lap
and I could feel her trembling inside the grasp of my arm.
Holding her tightly about the waist—because I remember my
friend saying that was imperative—I began. Packing a good deal
of punch to the strokes I laid on that lovely rear, the results
were quite astounding and almost immediate. There was a
beautiful pink blush rising within seconds, and the more I
paddled her, the more the hue of her flesh deepened in color.
The more I worked Bridget’s behind, the more eager I was to
make her skin righteously smart. I’m sure my scheme was
inspired by her response. She moaned quite sweetly at the start
like it was hardly anything at all. But with my anger fresh and
unassuaged, I was determined she get my message. She would not
be groaning sweetly when I was done!
As much as the spanking was beginning to hurt Bridget’s
bottom, it was satisfying for me. Not only was she getting what
she deserved, it was turning me on. The crude way she moved
against my lap inspired a sexual desire in me I can’t ever
recall experiencing. I knew then what Andrew meant when he
claimed that spanking was an aphrodisiac. I would have liked to
quit the spanking and enjoyed myself in her delightful body, but
instead, I chose to ignore the pleasant effect and let the
reason for the spanking drive me forward.
“Oh, Mr. Fox, please!” she wailed like the dickens.
“I can’t stand this!”
“Just like I can’t stand a bratty, undisciplined
woman!” I roared right back at her.
My comments didn’t shut her up, nor did the strike of
the spoon on her ass. She kept wailing away, and except for a
few necessary pauses for the both of us to catch our breath, I
kept going, at an exhausting clip. Eventually, with Bridget
turning frantic, I finally slowed and began to lecture her in
earnest.
“You probably need one of these every week, Miss
Bennington.” I smacked her hard.
“Oh, ouch...” She squirmed, but she wasn’t crying.
“Until this matter with your roommate is settled,
you’ll follow my instructions. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you won’t go running off on a lark!”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’ll think before you act!”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right.” I gave her bottom one last, firm smack
and put the spoon down next to me.
Seeing the extraordinary effect the spanking had on
Bridget’s bottom, I wanted to caress those heated mounds in
the worst way. But taking a deep breath, I let her rise and pull
her bathrobe back around her waist.
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