“I’m in. Daddy.” She nearly giggled, calling him that. Until she saw the look on his face; first kind, then morphing into stern, dominant. Authoritative. Like he truly was her daddy and she truly was a naughty little girl in desperate need of correction.
“Are you sure about this, little girl?”
Jilly nodded. “Yes, Daddy. I’m sure.” This time, calling him Daddy felt so right.
Matthew stood up. Even though he was still behind his desk it felt like he was towering over her; she felt so small and timid. Scared, almost. She eyed the ruler dubiously as Matthew plucked it from his desk and tapped it against his palm. The crack of wood against flesh made her quiver. Was it excitement? Or fear? She wasn’t sure.
“Okay then, Jilly, let’s get this first punishment over with. I want you to position yourself over my desk, with your skirt folded up out of the way.”
She watched, her heart in her mouth, as he cleared a space in the centre of the large antique mahogany desktop, stacking papers up on either side. Her legs turned to jelly. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t make herself move; couldn’t intentionally put herself into such a vulnerable position.
Don’t be a wuss! her subconscious mocked her. It’s just a little ruler! How much is it going to hurt, really? Her buttocks clenched involuntarily. It’s going to hurt plenty, she told herself.
Matthew waved his arm across the clear expanse of desk, indicating for her to obey the command he’d just given. But her feet were rooted to the floor. It didn’t matter what her crazy inner mind thought; she was afraid. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to do this anymore. But at the same time, she didn’t want to back down. If only she could make herself move!
“Come on,” Matthew urged. “Let’s get it over with.”
Jilly shook her head. “I... I can’t.”
Matthew put down the ruler. “Would you like me to help you?”
Looking at the floor, blinking back tears of shame, Jilly nodded. “Yes, please, Daddy.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. She was torn between wanting to run, and the unmistakeable bolt of excitement in the pit of her belly.
Matthew took her arm, grasping it firmly just above her elbow. Gently, he led her two steps forward to his desk. Placing one hand between her shoulder blades he pushed lightly, pressing her down against the cold, hard wood. Taking her hands, he stretched her arms out in front of her, tucking her fingers under the edge of the far side of his desk.
She shivered. Already, she felt exposed.
His feet went between hers, kicking them apart. “Spread your legs.”
A sob caught in her throat. Already, she felt thoroughly chastised and the spanking hadn’t even begun. She stepped her feet further apart and clenched the edge of the desk tightly as he lifted the hem of her skirt, sliding it up her thighs, spreading it over her back, revealing her simple cotton knickers with the pink lace trim. She wished she’d worn nicer underwear. Sexier. Either that, or the enormous ones she owned that reminded her of the Bridget Jones’s Diary movie. At least they covered her entire butt and would afford a bit more protection than her current ones.
She gasped at the touch of his palm against her bottom, his large hand patting her left buttock almost affectionately.
“Shall we begin?”
She doubted it was actually a real question, so she kept quiet.
He rested one hand in the small of her back. She liked it, having his hand there. It let her know that he was in control, and all she had to do was submit. Gripping the rolled-edge desk tighter, she resolved to try.
The ruler was cold as he touched it to the middle of her bottom, laying it against the fullest part, evenly across both cheeks.
“Usually, spankings will be on the bare bottom, but as this is your first time, I will let you keep your knickers on. Don’t expect it in the future though,” he warned. “Next time you find yourself over your desk about to feel Daddy’s ruler, your knickers will be down around your ankles and it will be your bare ass in the air.”
The crude way he spoke, so unlike his usual gentlemanly manner, sent heat to her loins. She clenched her parted thighs together as best she could. And then it occurred to her.
“What if someone hears?”
He rubbed the ruler up and down. “This room is completely soundproofed,” he explained. “My uncle made it that way. Sometimes, clients can be...” he paused, as if searching for the right word, “emotional. Loud. We don’t wish for their privacy to be disturbed. Also, we’re surrounded by empty offices and storage rooms. Nobody will hear anything. I promise.”
In her vulnerable, bent-over position, Jilly sighed with relief. That was something, at least. It was bad enough that she was bent over Matthew’s desk about to be spanked. The last thing she wanted was for her colleagues to hear it.
He lifted the ruler, leaving her waiting in fearful anticipation.
“There will be six strokes of the ruler,” he told her matter-of-factly. “You are to remain still and in position the entire time. I don’t want to see you reaching your hands back to protect yourself; this ruler will hurt far more on your fingers than it will on your backside.”
Jilly gasped and stiffened. “No,” she whimpered, but she wasn’t sure what it was she was protesting, exactly. She had already resigned herself to punishment. And six strokes seemed... Well, it seemed like a lot. But probably, it was nothing less than she deserved. In fact, in Matthew’s eyes, he was probably going easy on her.
“Yes,” he insisted. “Now hold still.”
The first crack of the ruler against her upturned bottom nearly sent her into orbit. The sting was far more intense than what she’d expected
