As Derek moved closer to the kitchen, Tiff glimpsed the wide leather Irish school strap hanging on a hook from his even wider leather belt. A pussy-warming flashback smacked her hard at the sight of the dreaded strap. She had to close her eyes to try to catch her breath.
She tried valiantly to think of something—anything—that could take her mind off the unexpected invasion of memories of her earliest sexual stirrings as a teenager. She’d been an impressionable young woman growing up in a strict Catholic community where corporal punishment was a way of life. She might have had a chance to clear her mind in some other situation, but sitting here, surrounded by the aura of a dominant Lukus and two couples who looked like they could drop to the floor to fuck each other’s brains out at a moment’s notice, Tiff found it hard to force her mind to dwell on more mundane memories.
After managing to slow her breathing as best she could, Tiff finally opened her eyes to find Lukus had silently moved directly in front of her. His dark green eyes were watching her intently. Of course, he would have picked up on the subtle changes in her since Derek and Rachel’s arrival. He didn’t beat around the bush.
“What’s wrong?” At least he asked quietly.
Not wanting to draw any more attention to herself than she already had, Tiff impatiently tried to shush him. “Nothing. Let’s eat.”
The concern in Lukus’ eyes was immediately replaced with anger. Without taking his eyes away from Tiffany’s, he addressed the group. “We’ll be right back. You guys eat without us. Tiffany and I have something we need to discuss. In private.”
When he grabbed her hand to pull her along with him, panic took over and she dug in, refusing to move her feet. Undeterred, Lukus lifted her effortlessly in his arms, eliciting a squeal from Tiff as he quickly relocated them to his bedroom. He managed to slam the door closed with a loud kick before dropping Tiff on the bed, quickly trapping her beneath him as he caged her in, his feet firmly planted on the ground.
“I think I made it clear what would happen if you lied to me, didn’t I?”
On a scale of one to ten, her heart rate skyrocketed to eleven. “I didn’t lie. I don’t know what you’re so upset about, Lukus.”
“Don’t you? Your entire body language changed the second Derek and Rachel arrived, so don’t you dare tell me it’s nothing.”
She was smart enough to know not to say it again. “I don’t want to talk about it… especially not out there with everyone else around.”
“Then what should your answer have been?”
They were in one of their staring showdowns. No surprise—she lost. “I guess I could have said I just didn’t want to talk about it right then.”
“Yes. Or we’d talk about it later, in private.”
“Fine. We’ll talk about it later, in private.”
Lukus’s smile was predatory. “Lucky you. We’re in private now. What happened when Derek and Rachel came in?”
“I don’t want to talk about it yet.”
“Too fucking bad. I want to know what’s going through your pretty head.”
Tiffany’s breathing was getting raspy again. “Please… I…” She could feel the heat rising in her face.
Lukus’s face was lighting up. “You’re adorable when you blush.”
Sassy Tiffany flared. “So glad you approve of my discomfort, ya big jerk.” She tried, unsuccessfully, to push him away from her so she could sit up.
Tiff wasn’t sure how it happened so fast, but the next thing she knew, she was face down over Lukus’s lap as he sat on the side of the bed. Her long-flowing blond hair was the only part of her body touching the floor. The feel of his first swat with his strong right hand surprised her more than it actually hurt, but by the third strong spank, the reality of what was happening was sinking in. The dress shirt she was wearing had risen up and the thin material of the borrowed boxer briefs underneath gave her little in the way of protection from Lukus’s punishment.
It only took about ten seconds for her anger to be replaced with submissive emotions. The memories she’d thought of in the kitchen, of watching her best friend’s twin sister being punished by her boyfriend with the dreaded Irish school strap, flickered through her consciousness as Lukus continued to deliver open-handed swats in a fast volley. Tiff was pretty sure he was holding back from using his full strength, but it didn’t take long for the heat to build up enough that she was squirming to get away.
When she lifted her right hand back to try to protect her ass, Lukus effortlessly snatched it, restraining it behind her back without so much as missing a beat. It felt odd to be holding his hand, their fingers intimately entwined, while he lit up her ass with his other punishing hand.
When he stopped about a minute later, she was grateful. She’d clamped her lips tight to keep from calling out to him as the pain got to the point where she wasn’t sure she’d be able to maintain her composure. When she felt him pulling the boxer briefs down to expose her most-likely pink butt, she finally lost it. “Oh, no! Please, no more! I’m sorry!”
Continuing on with the spanking, Lukus answered her. “Yes, I bet you’re sorry now. I didn’t think I was getting through to you, but I might have your attention now.”
“Oh yes, you do! Please, Lukus! That’s enough! Oweeee!”
She may have been begging him to stop, but even in her duress, she could feel the wetness pooling at her core. Each time his hand connected with her bottom she could feel her pussy pulsing. It was both pleasure and pain at its finest.
The steady spanking continued without interruption as Lukus began to lecture her.
“Time for more ground rules, baby. Rule number one. During a punishment, I decide when you’ve had enough. I promised you a safe word and you’ll have one for play, but the only word you get during a punishment is yellow. It will get you a short break and I’ll evaluate, but your punishment ends when I decide you’ve learned your lesson. Not before.”
“Oh Lukus. I have. Please….!” Tiff could feel the tears pooling as she tried valiantly not to dissolve into a sobbing mess.
“Rule number two. I’m always ‘Sir’ during a punishment. No exceptions.” He made his point with a few especially strong spanks to her tender sit-spot.
“Ohhhhh. I’m sorry, Sir.”
His dominance melted her core. The sound of his hand as it soundly connected with her bare bottom stirred her most primal inner need. Before this very minute, she’d worried her independent streak might have decided to rear its head in the face of a punishment, making her questionable submissive material. It’d been one of her hidden concerns about making the journey from voyeur to submissive. But as her tears began in earnest, she realized she’d worried for nothing. The truth was becoming clearer with each passing moment of her first real punishment.
All these years. I’ve been waiting… dreaming of this… dreaming of him.
Rather than panic in the face of the pain, Tiffany instead acknowledged the relief of finding a man who was finally going to be strong enough to guide and protect her. She couldn’t help but be relieved he was already so tuned into her that he could notice even small nuances in her mood. The fact she could feel his growing erection under her tummy was icing on the cake.