Page 54 of Fight Me Little Pearl

FRANCESCA

He moves the chair about six feet away from the mirror and sits on it. “This way you will be able to smell, hear, taste, feel and see your suffering.

I shrug carelessly, but I can feel a frisson of euphoric excitement run up my spine.

Take off your panties and come and lay across my knees,” he orders.

The devil himself whispers in my ear and instead of just taking my panties off, I start taking off my dress.

"Just the panties,” he reminds.

"Tell me you haven't been thinking about my tits all day long and I’ll stop undressing." I put on my biggest grin as I drill my gaze into his, still undressing while I carry on our staring contest.

I chuck my dress towards his feet. "That's what I thought."

I pop out of my bra and toss it disrespectfully at his head. He plucks it out of the air before it lands and holds it up like a prize while I cup my boobs.

"You're beautiful, Francesca," he says. "But you are also very, very impertinent."

I pinch my nipples, then slip the lacy fabric of my underwear down my legs. I toss them over to him. He brings it to his nose to inhale.

I drag my fingers through my wet folds and hold it out under his nose as I step forward, but he simply grabs me by the wrist.

"Are you being a brat on purpose, Francesca? Are you trying to goad me?"

“Maybe.”

"If your girl challenges your position like that, what would you do to get her back onto a path of respect? "

I bite my lip. “Swat her buttocks?”

“And how many swats will she be receiving today?"

"Forgive my mistake, Sir. Ten swats."

"Over my knee," he says and points to his lap.

"Yes, Sir."

I turn and wiggle my bare ass in his face before I lay my naked body over his knee. My hair sweeps the floor and he reaches out to gather the strands off my face and push it to one side so they hang over my neck. Gently, he combs through the strands with his fingers.

"Have you ever been spanked, Francesca?"

"No."

"We shall remedy that today. I want you to count aloud," he murmurs. "Are you ready, Francesca?"

I look in the mirror. "Yes, Sir."

His hand rises into the air and comes crashing down on my rear end. The sound of his palm hitting my flesh continues to vibrate in the air around us.

"Ouch. Ooh. Ooh, that was…" I gasp. Did I really say ten? I don’t actually think I can take ten of those.

“Count, Francesca,” he commands.

“One,” I yell.

"I'll go slowly at first," he says, rubbing his palm in circles over my rear. I wriggle my ass to make it jiggle for his benefit and to ease the sting.

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