Page 17 of Wild Mustang Security Firm

He turned down a short drive lined with prickly pear and desert marigold that led to a small adobe house with exposed rafters over a large front porch. The adobe had been whitewashed, and the accents were a dark navy blue. The landscaping consisted of plants native to Arizona in shades of yellow and red, making the curb appeal of John’s home quite striking. Parking his truck, he came around to the passenger side to help her out.

“Your house is really pretty. Is it very old?” she said as she slid off the seat to stand beside him.

“Thank you, and yes, it is. I spent a lot of time restoring it.”

He put his arm around her and escorted her inside. The inside was calm, soothing, and masculine, much like the man beside her. The floors were hexagon Saltillo tiles, and the walls were the same whitewashed adobe as the exterior. The furnishings looked comfortable and expensive, and the artwork was, she guessed, native to the region as well.

She started toward one painting that hung over the large, arched fireplace, but was stopped as his hand reached out to take her gently by the upper arm. She turned to look at him, and suddenly, the reason he’d brought her here came rushing back.

“John,” she said cautiously.

“Mandy,” he answered calmly. “You can make this as easy on yourself as you want. Let me be very clear. You are about to get your backside blistered for your behavior today. You have a choice. You can decide to behave and go into the bedroom, strip out of your clothes, and stand in the corner to wait for me to come deal with you?—”

“What’s my other option?”

“You can decide to continue to misbehave. If that’s the case, I’ll start your spanking in here, and when you decide you want to behave, you can then go to our room, strip and stand in the corner, and compose yourself before I punish you.”

“Or I could just take my purse and phone, call for a ride, and tell you to go fuck yourself,” she challenged.

John gave a resigned sigh. “I had a feeling that might be your response.”

He set her purse and cell phone on the table as Mandy watched him in a kind of detached fascination. She would always recall it seemed to happen in slow motion. Even though he had spanked her the night before, this would be the spanking that, for her, really defined their relationship and allowed her to truly accept his authority.

John’s grip on her upper arm had never loosened. She tried to dig her heels in to resist being dragged toward the large chesterfield sofa, but the Saltillo tiles were polished and offered her no traction whatsoever.

“John, you can’t just spank me without my permission.”

“You gave me your permission last night when you agreed I would have authority over you. Very few women are on board with the idea when they’re about to get their bottoms blistered. You don’t get to change your mind now that it’s about to happen.”

Mandy continued to struggle as he sat down and reached for the top of her jeans to unfasten them. There was no way she could get at his private parts, and she knew if there had been a way, she would have done so. She recalled all too vividly how much his spanking her bare backside had hurt, and that had been only a few smacks after he had warmed her up over her jeans.

She fought, but John was much stronger. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was unrelenting. He held both of her wrists in one hand as he pulled her jeans and her panties past her knees with the other.

“No, you bastard! If you touch me, I swear—” she cried, the rest of her threat cut off as John deftly pulled her between his legs and over one knee, allowing her body to rest on the sofa before trapping her legs between his and adjusting her position, so he held her securely in place.

She barely had time to breathe, much less have a coherent thought before his hand came crashing down on her upturned globes, making her screech. The hand that had brought her so much pleasure the night before and again that morning was just as confident now about inflicting stinging blows to her rump. Although pain was the predominant thing feeling, arousal had kicked in, and all her girly parts were tingling.

“You let me know when you want to settle down and take your punishment like a good girl.”

“Sonofabitch!” she yowled as his hand increased the strength of the swats being delivered.

“You and I talked about your language. The rule isn’t suspended just because you’re facedown over my knee.”

They were locked in a battle of wills, but Mandy could already feel her resolve crumbling in the face of the fire he was lighting across her ass. One of the things she had found soappealing about John was his strength—not just physically, but mentally and emotionally.

“All right, John, I’m sorry. Please stop! Please!”

Mandy was shocked, and a small part of her disappointed, when his hand came down and rested lightly on her sore derriere. The lack of something more pressing to focus on allowed her body to succumb, and she began to cry.

“You ready to yield to me and accept my discipline?”

“I just want you to stop,” she sniffled.

“Let me be clear. I’m not done. You just got spanked for being unwilling to accept what you know you have coming, then fussing about it. When I let you up, I expect you to pull your jeans and panties all the way off and take off the rest of your things. You’re going to give them all to me. Do you understand me?”

“I’m not stupid, John.”

“No, not stupid.” He raised his hand and began to spank her again as she wailed in response. “Willful and undisciplined, but not stupid.” He paddled her bottom, ensuring the entire surface was covered with what she was sure were red handprints.

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