The room is deadly silent as I again skim my fingers up her thighs. More arousal gathers, and I'm mesmerized by the sight of her getting turned on. For all of her protesting, for all of her fighting, she's still aroused by the power I wield over her. It's such a heady thing. Breathing deep, I draw in the scent of her arousal, imprinting it on my brain. Slowly, I unbuckle my belt. Her eyes lock on, and she licks her lips. I ease the stiff leather through the loops, letting it pop through each one. Melody's eyes are wide. Her pupils are blown out. God, this shouldn't be so exhilarating. I've punished dozens of women. Why is Melody so different? I ignore that niggle, refusing to give it legs.
With each step I take, my belt clears another loop. Her breathing is haggard and rough. By the time I'm at her mound, the belt is wound through my hands. "I told you to clean yourself up. Yes?"
She remains silent.
I take the edge of the belt and smack it against her inner thigh. She wails and jerks against her bonds. Instantly, the creamy skin turns pink. Leaning down, I slide my tongue along the welt that's just barely starting to form, letting my hot breath wash across the area, adding to the stinging heat. She whines and tries to pull away. "Let me ask you again," I whisper against her hot skin. "Did I not tell you to clean up?"
"Yes, Sir," she whimpers.
"Then why are you spread here before me, absolutely drenched with your own arousal?" Again, she remains silent, but her adorable blush begins to peak out from the vee in her shirt. With a sigh, I bring the belt tip down on her other thigh, ignoring the chortle of pain rising from her throat. "I can do this all day, Melody, but can you handle that?"
She shakes her head back and forth, the blush climbing up to stain her cheeks. "I thought maybe I could get away. That seemed more important somehow."
"Listen to me, Mouse, and heed my words carefully. There is no getting away from me, from us. We will hunt you down, and you will pay more than you bargained for. Am I understood?" With a quick flick of my wrist, I bring the tip down on her lower lips, grinning as she howls and bucks against the stinging pain. Tears slide down her eyes and plop onto the desk below. Oh, how I waited for those tears to really flow in earnest.
Pulling back, I nod at John and step away to undo her leg. He releases her arms and helps her sit up. After both of the restraints are removed, I take her arm and stand her up. "Now that we're clear, Dean Anderson will now punish you for cheating." Her frantic eyes fly up to me.
"But I-"
"You thought that was it?" I chuckle darkly. "Oh, dear Mouse. We are only just beginning." I haul her up to my chest and hold her for a brief moment before turning her around to face the desk. She lifts her head to look over at John, but I angle her head down so she can't see what he's getting. Not knowing is a good way to get the fear flowing. Based on how her body quakes under my palm, it's working.
"You will bend over the desk and grasp the opposite end." She looks up and John and back to the desk, her adorable brow furrowing. Sighing, he walks over to the door and sticks his head out, calling for Shelaine. Within moments, she enters the room and kneels at John's feet.
"Yes, Dean?"
"Demonstrate to Melody the proper way to receive punishment in my office."
"Yes, Dean." Rising up from the floor, she gracefully makes her way over to the desk. Melody squirms in my grip, but I pull her to my chest and grab her chin, forcing her to watch. With a single, fluid movement, she lays down on the polished wood and grabs the opposite edge. Her toes arch up against the carpet, barely resting on the floor. She holds the position, taking shallow breaths to keep from moving too much. A perfect, poised, submissive pose. Normally, that would get me rock hard, but it's not doing a thing for me. The only thing stirring my interest right now is a petite brunette that keeps writhing in my grasp.
"Good girl. Go finish your paperwork and prepare for tonight."
She pulls away from the desk and smooths out her clothes. "Yes, Dean. Thank you, Sir."
Turning away, she flashes a quick smirk to Melody before sauntering out of the room.
"You caught that right?" I grind out.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of her tonight. As for you, young lady. Over the desk. Just like Shelaine."
Lower lip quivering, Melody eases from my grasp and drapes herself over the wood. Not nearly as graceful as Shelaine, but the innocence in that motion has blood surging back through me. John waves his hand away, indicating that I should step back. I don't want to leave her side, but punishment is punishment, and she has more than earned hers. He sets his wooden paddle on the desk next to her ass and quickly palms her flesh, pinching and kneading the skin until a faint blush appears on her cheeks. I hold myself in check, refusing to interfere. As Dean, it's his right to manhandle her as he pleases.
Her soft sighs and whines go straight through me. I grip the chair to keep myself planted. Once her skin is fairly warmed up, he brings up the paddle and aims for the right cheek. As he lets it go, I can tell he's holding back. It's going to sting, but it's not going to break her. Relief fills me for a brief moment. She's so new to all of this, and there's a perverse part of me that wants her to actually crave our dominance, to want to let us do dark and depraved things to her. The first impact sends her up on her toes, a short cry catching in her throat. More precum leaks out. I adjust myself and watch the scene in front of me. Her yelps, squeals, and the thuddy smack of the paddle fall in a rhythmic cadence that has me grinding against the chair, trying to get any sort of relief.
Soon. Very soon, I'm going to paint her body with my lust. Until then, I have to satisfy myself with knowing that John will leave her intact for me. Several more short blows and John puts the paddle back down. Her entire ass is bright red with small circles from the holes dotting the area. I look at him for a second, and he nods before putting the paddle back up. Walking up behind her, I drag my fingers across her hot globe before gripping one cheek in my hand. She moans softly but stays where she is. She's starting to learn.
"Good girl," I murmur, rubbing soothing circles on the inflamed skin. "You can get up now."
Her movements are unsteady as she eases up off the desk. I want nothing more than to lick the reddened skin and bury myself between her cheeks, but there will be time for that later. Right now, we still have so much to do before tonight's ceremony. Turning her about, I set her down on the desk, ignoring the lurch of my cock with her pained exhale. I leave her underwear off because it's about to come right off in a few more minutes. The pants slide back up her thighs, and I watch as she does that delightful wiggle while trying to hike them back up. Next is shoes, and we're now good to go.
John reaches over and hands her an extensive packet of papers, as a sly smile crossing his lips. “I would suggest you actually read this much more thoroughly than you did the other papers. This document is binding. Things you think you like, make a note of that. Things you cannot mentally handle, put a hard limit. For things that intrigue but scare you, I’d suggest starting with a soft limit. Hard limits will not be changed unless you file an addendum with me. We will sit down and go over in exacting detail how and why those limits changed. Same with any soft limits and things you like. If you want to change something you like or is a soft limit to a hard limit, you better do your damned best to convince me. I don’t suffer fools, and I didn’t start this lifestyle yesterday.”