Page 52 of Release Me

“You’re late,” Richard looks from his watch to me.

“What? No I’m not. I left my room with one minute to spare. There’s no way it took me a whole minute to get down here.”

“I don’t round my time. I take seconds into consideration. I left your room at 11:13:35 A.M. It’s now 11:18:42 A.M. Which means you’re seven seconds late.”

“Are you fu—”

“I’d rethink that sentence before you continue, Brynn.”

I close my eyes and try to take a deep, calming breath. This man is going to make me want to re-commit myself.

“I apologize,” I say very carefully, so my attitude doesn’t come out. “I will do better next time.”

“Thank you, Brynn. Let’s get started.”

He opens the door and follows me into his office. I can feel his stare on me the entire time. He picked out a top that comes down to a deep “V” in both the front and the back and a black, lacy bra for me to wear. I’m convinced it’s the only type of bra he likes. Richard shuts the door as I take my place on the sofa. Placing my notebook on the table, I suddenly remember I couldn’t find my pen.

“Richard?” I ask nervously.

I hate that I’m nervous.He turns to face me.

“I couldn’t find my pen.”

“Hmm.”

Hmm? That’s all he says for a moment as he continues staring at me. His face isn’t giving anything away, and I don’t know what to make of his mood upon hearing I’m not prepared.

“Come here, Brynn.”

Standing, I join him next to his desk.

“Bend over, arms flat on the desk’s surface.”

Unprepared for his instruction, he takes me by surprise. When I don’t move fast enough, he grabs me around my waist and pushes my back down at the same time, folding me over the edge of his desk. He places my arms and hands exactly as he wants them before removing his arm from around me.

“Do not move,” he demands.

I don’t move one muscle, making sure to follow his instructions explicitly this time. He walks around the desk and faces me from the other side of it. Sitting in his chair, his eyes don’t leave mine as he reaches into his drawer and pulls out a notepad and pen and slides them in between my arms.

“You’re to write ‘I will come prepared to my sessions,’ fifty times before we get started.”

“What?” I didn’t mean to protest, it just slipped out.Fuck.

“One hundred times, then. And after that, you’ll write ‘I will always be punctual,’ one hundred times. Number each line as you go. And unless you want to write a hundred more that say “I will not argue, and do as I’m told,’ I suggest you get started.”

He sits back in his chair with his hands steepled together and one leg resting on his opposite knee. He’s enjoying this, the prick. Whatever, I’ll play his fucking game.

I pick up the pen and begin. Making sure to follow his instructions to the “T,” I number each line as I go. Taking it a step further, I make sure my handwriting is neat so he can’t fault me for that. When I am seventeen lines in to ‘I will come prepared to my sessions,’ Richard stands and walks behind me. I swallow, nervous that I’m unable to see him. When I feel a breeze lightly tickling my ass, I turn my attention around.

“Continue your punishment,” he orders me.

Facing forward again, I continue writing. He gently caresses my ass, and I think he’s getting ready to go to town like he did downstairs. Moisture rushes to my entrance the second I think about how fucking incredible it felt when he licked me from behind. Trying to concentrate on my writing is now harder than ever. Was this his plan? Get me worked up so I physically can’t write. That way he can punish me some more. Is that his game? Is he a sadist?

I jump as his hand connects with my skin as he spanks my ass. I jump, not expecting it, and accidentally draw a line down the middle of my paper.

“I’d brace yourself before that happens again. Or else you’ll have to start over.”

Fuck.

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