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Sorority Pledge 1: A Devil in Disguise - Part 1

A well-earned spanking jerks two college students into the edgy bliss of BDSM.


When sorority pledge, Addison Montgomery, gets caught chucking eggs at a mansion at the demand of her sisters on Halloween, she's punished by the rich man’s son, Logan, a hot junior at her college, and they get swept up in the delicious power exchange and a tumultuous squall of passion. But where it leads may be way too hot for them to handle.

* * * *

Wind and a million naked branches whipped my skin as I fledthe gorilla—yes, gorilla—on my heels. My white, chiffon babydoll offered zero protection against the elements and these stupid, red stilettos made it nearly impossible to run. On top of my disastrous attire—a devil in disguise behind a thinly veiled angel—I could barely see a thing with the full moon being my only light source. I should’ve banked on such a predicament and chosen a more sensible costume, but whatever. I assumed this would be a quick and easy test when my fellow pledges and I were whisked away, coat-and-purseless, from the Halloween Bash.

Exit car. Take eggs. Hit fancy mansion. Run back to House. Be back by midnight.

Yeah, not that easy. Especially in lingerie and hooker shoes!

The laughter of my sisters-to-be carried from far ahead. They left me! I cried out for them to wait up but got no reply. Was cutting through the woods really the shorter way? Pressing through the brush, I searched the distance for lights and didn’t spot any twinkles. I wasn’t even sure which way to go from here, and I was already tired, freezing and achy.

To earn a pin and a permanent stay, our Delta Gamma chapter had the most grueling initiation in the US, requiring not just a few weeks but a full semester of hurdles that aren’t supposed to be considered hazing because that’s totally banned. Most Greeks cast votes after rush in September, and you’re in for just being liked, but invitees of Delta Gamma, as we’re typically called, cannot become official sisters until we go through a trial by fire. We must prove worthy. I don’t mind that though. I like having to muscle through and fight hard to earn my spot. Getting in meant something and spoke volumes of a person’s character. It evidenced strength, determination, loyalty and courage. I would get in. Then, maybe my mom, a DeGa Goddess herself, would finally be impressed with something I did. Uninitiated residents could be ousted at any time, for any reason, so, I had to make it back by 12. I had to! Though it was only around 10 or so, the time limit felt like a crunch.

When my right foot planted on uneven ground, my ankle caved over and I yowled. I hobbled a few steps, then kept moving swiftly along the path, more on my forefeet from that point on. It was difficult to go any faster because more debris cluttered the floor the further into the woods I went. I had to be at least a half mile from the mansion now. How long was the guard, or whatever he was, going to follow me? I expected the fake fur and King Kong mask to slow the linebacker down, but they clearly weren’t a hindrance at all. He sounded closer and louder now. He was gaining on me!

Though dangerous, panic shoved me back into a real run. My toe caught on a branch, and I screamed as I launched into the air and crashed down, palm-and-face-first into the dirt. The hard ground, that was just a second ago an aid to me with its rigidity against my spiky heels, smacked me like cement. I spit out filthy crud and groaned as I lay plastered against the chilly earth. Aches spread through my body like a disease. He was on me! I smelled his B.O. before his thunderous steps shook me and exhales slithered at me through his mask. Kielbasa fingers crushed my upper arms, and I was hurled up and over his shoulder with the same effort he’d impart to a towel. He whirled me around and marched back in the direction of the estate I’d just pummeled with chicken goo.

“Ow. Let me go. Put me down.” I squirmed and pounded his back.

“Not on your life, sweetheart.” He clamped down on my legs and left a fluff-buffered smack on my ass. “Quit fighting. This is the easy way. I can fold you in half if you don’t cooperate. And don’t think I won’t.”

My heart pounded, and my hips hurt from bouncing off his shoulder of rocks. “Please put me down and let me go. I’ll do anything. I don’t have anything on me right now, but I can and will pay you. What’s your offer?”

“Forget it. This is my job. Whatever you offer, old man Thorndike will triple for my loyalty.”

“Please. You don’t understand. I need to get back.”

“Not my problem. This is the third year you cackling witches have struck. We were ready for ya this time. Oh, and you will pay. Dearly. But it’s not my call on how.”

Third year? Shit. This rich dude was gonna be pissed, to say the least, and I’d be on the receiving end of all that festering wrath. I ground my teeth as they suddenly started chattering. Fighting this hired gun would be a waste of my time. A fan of my healthy back, I groused and kept my lips zipped the rest of the way.

As he lumbered me out of the forest and into the golden light splaying across the cobblestone driveway, my stomach churned, both from the jostling and unknown consequences to my wicked deed. Magilla Gorilla carried me into a toasty home and slammed the door. He still had me upended like a sack of dirty laundry as he proudly walked down a gallery of cherry wood and marble and into a game room filled with the crackle of burning wood and the scents of bourbon and pricey cigars.

With the hem of my babydoll fluttering at the base of my neck, I realized my red-pantied ass was on full display to the five middle-aged men sitting around a poker table. Their mouths were open, cards in hand, inching down. I’m just guessing, but they probably didn’t even notice the devil tail that took me four freaking days to make. My face got hot and my throat strained to weep at my hellacious predicament.

“I snagged one, sir. A sorority brat, just like you figured.”

The guard, bouncer, brute, or whatever he was, stripped off his mask and tossed it to the floor. His sweat dripped down my thighs.

“Wonderful, Geoffrey. Put her down. I’ll take care of her. You will be compensated handsomely.”

“Thank you, sir.” He hurled me down and I flopped onto a brown, leather couch. Searing cheeks said I was still red-faced in my panty-flashing position as Geoff gave me a one-over and winced. Maybe he was regretting not taking me up on my offer, now seeing my scantily clad awesomeness in all its badass glory. But I had been talking about money, not whatever nasty thrills his lip licking implied. Gross.

“You may go.”

Geoffrey sighed and said, “Yes, sir,” then shuffled out the door, giving one more longing look over his shoulder before disappearing from sight.

Mr. Thorndike’s ice-blue eyes and the fury written on his silver-bearded face pierced into me. I shook as he approached me with a waving fist. “You foolish girl. Throwing eggs at my house? What were you thinking?”

My abdomen tightened, but I laid there unmoving, propped up on my elbows, hair all wild, skirt over my waist, legs bent up and spread apart like a slut’s invitation. I opened my mouth but no words came out.

He brought his hands together with a clap and rubbed them together. He reminded me of Mr. Burns from The Simpsons right then. And he was probably just as evil. The glint in his eye seemed to suggest it. “The police and Dean Pratchett will be very happy I caught one of you vicious vandals this year. Now we have proof of exactly what sorority is responsible.”

What?! My stomach dropped. I never counted the consequences if we got caught. This was a simple, gooey prank. Not a freaking crime! Or was it? “The police! You don’t have to involve the police in this, do you? Please don’t. I’ll clean it up. I swear. Every spot of it. And I’ll make sure the Sig-Kappas never do this again.” I tensed in my fibbery.

“Of course I’m calling the police. Do you think this is just child’s play, some silly game? Do you have any idea what a headache you girls have been causing over the last several years? It’s no laughing matter. The egg freezes and dries up overnight, and it’s quite the task to remove it. Now that I’ve caught one of you, it’s time, my dear, to make an example. I will take great pleasure in pressing charges and bringing you all down.”

My lungs began to seize and sobs bubbled out. “Please, sir. If you call the cops or the dean, it could get me kicked out. My parents will probably cut me off, if they don’t kill me first.” Hopefully that sounded convincing. In truth, my parents wouldn’t give a rat’s ass or even notice.

“You should have thought of that before trashing my house.”

“Look. I’ll do anything you ask. Please.”

Thorndike scratched his beard while looking down at his feet or something, as though he might be considering another option. “Well ... since he’s technically the target, I’ll let Logan decide what’s to be done with you.”

Logan. Who the heck’s Logan?

When he picked up a phone on the credenza, I exhaled through puckered lips at the momentary reprieve. With him looking away, I smoothed my dark auburn flyaways and skirt, covered up my charms. One of the onlookers was rubbing his crotch, and he saw that I saw. Instead of pinking up, he grinned wide, revealing a missing tooth in his grill. He made a jerkoff motion at his side and underneath the table. Hurl. Not in your wildest dreams, pal.

“Logan. Geoffrey caught one of the egg girls … Yes, certainly. But she’d rather not involve the police. It’s your call, son … Mmm hmm. Yes.” He looked at me again as he pulled the phone away from his ear. “He’ll be right down to deal with you.”

Deal with me? What the hell did that mean? My mouth went dry and I quivered at the unknown. But anything had to be better than a haul to the overnight slammer, right? What did police do to egg-tossing vandals exactly? I didn’t even want to find out. Hopefully I could sweet talk this Logan out of a call to the cops and we could settle on a less painful resolution. But I began to sweat and a tinny ring rose up in my ears when footsteps thumped down a staircase.

Kiddy laughter came from outdoors and the doorbell rang.

“Your mask, Geoffrey,” said a male from the foyer maybe. “Where is it? You look like a fool in half your costume. Delve out the candy for this bunch, then cover up your god-awful face.” That had to be Logan. I knew it wasn’t a brother or a cousin. The anger and pretentiousness in his voice. It was him.

And he was coming.

To deal with me.

The cheers of kids grew louder when the door opened. After their treat collection, the door slammed.

I shivered when a breeze swept in and licked me.

Geoffrey rushed in, collected his fur face and settled it on his head with a grumble, then walked back out, mitts clenched.  

I smiled at Logan’s insult to his goon, because, really, Geoffrey looked like a gorilla either way. Why was Logan a House target though? I don’t get it. But my silent chuckle quickly fizzled, as it suddenly hit me that if Logan treated his staff like crap, what kind of verbal attack was I in for?

I doubted much when he entered the room. He certainly didn’t look menacing or cold-hearted. He was about my age and adorably cute, 5'10" or thereabouts, dark blond, maybe blue-eyed like his dad. He was clean-cut with nice hair, and his cologne smelled so sweetly like a sexified ocean. Mmm. Much better than cigars. Hands clenched, he stormed toward me with a confident, purposefully stride and stopped about eight paces away. Getting a reprimand from him seemed ill-fitting in a room filled with the merriment of billiard tables, ping-pong, air hockey, fuse-ball, darts and golf holes. What biting words for me hovered on his tongue?

He rubbed his face, huffed and sternly said, “Get up.” His voice, deep and velvety, did not match his package at all. That firm insistence shot through me like a lightning bolt, leaving a buzz in my gut that funneled down. And thinking of package, when I swung around and set my toes on the floor and my fists beside my hips, I dropped my gaze and took in the treasure stuffed in his jeans. Heat swamped my head as I scaled his legs and black-t-shirted torso. Not exactly a running back, but he had enough muscular areas to enchant my tongue and teeth for hours. His laid back outfit said black Chucks or Adidas, so I knew he had put those clackity dress shoes on for me, so he could make my belly whirl more and more with each footstep. His evil plan worked. I must’ve been taking too long because he insisted, “Now!” The self-assurance and carriage he held testified of a privileged upbringing, worlds past even mine, and made him seem years beyond his apparent age.

My pulse quickened as I burst off the couch and my tight swallow crunched in my ears. Two commands. He’d given me two commands. Well, one continuous direction technically, and I was smacked with elation and a sudden need to please and obey him. Why? Where on earth had that come from? I didn’t even know this guy. Had never seen him before in my life.

I finally met his gaze up close. No, not blue, brown. A glorious, dazzling brown of dark chocolate pools that fell to shattered amber. Brown eyes are usually more like mud or acorns, so the kaleidoscope and unexpected intensity fucked my blue ones senseless, and I was jolted and alarmed by the rush that slammed me. I felt like I was soaring through the clouds on a bouquet of balloons and, at the same time, like lava was dripping down from my chest and setting my womb on fire. My face smoldered and my insides melted. I dripped. What the hell! I cleared my throat and licked my lip.

In spite of the fury he came down to unleash on me, glee flickered in his eyes for a moment and the left corner of his lips twitched. He knew. He knew. Good lord, he knew. With one look in my eyes, he knew the hold and effect he had on me. I should’ve been freaked out by his clairvoyance, but our unspoken exchange and acknowledgement only made me tingle more. The weird thing was, I could read his mind too, and I knew exactly, exactly how he intended on making me pay for this crime.

He set his hands on his hips. “What’s your name, egg hurler?”

I curled my lips in to prevent laughing at the term ‘egg hurler’. Once I gained composure, I said, “Addison.”

“Your actual name.”

“That’s it. Addison. But some people call me Addie.”

“How are you liking Delta Gamma Manor, Addison?”

How’d he know? My mouth dropped open and I cast a quick glance at elder Thorndike.

“You told me Sigma Kappa, young lady,” he said.

“You lied to my father?” Logan roared. He charged at me, grabbed my upper arm and tugged me closer. His face, though overhead, now beautified inches from mine. His evident anger … and that thing about him, that demanding nucleus, yanked me into a riptide. I yearned to fall to my knees and hold onto his legs as I was sucked into his current of potency and away from the safety of all things familiar and heavily guarded. I knew precisely what I was looking at now, what kind of man he was. Despite his puppy dog eyes, there was no doubt in my mind. This was no boy next door. He was a god, a dominant force, a hurricane wind. The divine flames in his glare singed me deep in my abdomen and demanded I worship and adore him. If his grip weren’t on me, I knew I’d melt to the floor and fold myself in half before him, just because it felt so right. “Answer me, Addison. How do you like living with a bunch of bitches, who desert you when it really matters and get you to destroy property, lie, run around coatless, and dress in clothes a street walker would think better of?”

I have to admit, I was totally loving that he stuck with Addison over Addie and the way he said it with such a commanding punch. Mmm. My eyes stung at the sternness in his glare and tone. I flicked the inside of my lips with my tongue and left them slightly parted as I bought it to rest between my teeth and bit down. Those charms of might he possessed bored into my soul and stirred me up with their enchantment. Maybe he didn’t know it, but he was seducing me, pulling me, beckoning me to come out and play. Me. The real me. Saliva got hung up in my throat at my constricting swallow. I coughed and swallowed again, successfully erasing the tickle. “Um, I have to. Passing tests is a part of induction. They don’t let just anybody in. Being a Delta Gamma Goddess is something I’ve always wanted. My mom, my aunt, my grandma and her sister, are all DGs. You have to go through fire to get in, and this was a part of that.”

“They didn’t destroy property back then I’m sure. They did things to each other, sister-to-sister, maybe to frat boys. They certainly didn’t pull innocents into terrible antics. Do you even know why you’re here, why your lovely, vicious queen bee, Brianna, picked this house, my house, out of all the other mansions on the row?”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t know. I have no idea.”

“No, of course you don’t. You underlings are too wimpy or mindless to ever ask the whys. I’m a junior now like her, and our freshman year, she asked me out, and I shot her down. That’s the whole of it. And she’s been trying to make my life a living hell ever since. But I’d never waste my time on trash the devil tossed out. I can pick out a wicked, despicable soul in a crowd of thousands. The stench of Hades coils around their lying, skank tongues and turns my stomach. You are not wicked though. No, you are not at all, I can tell. But you, Addison ... are bad.”

The way he hitched ‘bad’ to my name in a lower pitch and let it linger in the air unadorned scorched my loins. He squeezed my arm tighter. My legs started to wobble and turned to mush maybe. Honey pulsed out of me. He was so close. Could he smell that? Did he know how goddamn hot and weak he was making me? His lips were so kissably close now and his eyes imprisoned mine with the might of fifty padlocks.

“You have been a very, very bad girl. For going along with this stupid, petty, vengeance Halloween scheme without even knowing why. For ruining the night of these fine gentlemen here. For chucking eggs at my house. For lying to my father and likely whining against his every right to call the police. For pulling Geoffrey away from his candy task that he so dearly loves. And for walking out of your house in nothing but your underwear. Don’t you think you should spend the night in jail for such shameful grievances?”

Jail. Right. Breath grated out of my nostrils because I knew damn well jail was the last place he wanted me. I’m right. I have to be. He’s gonna say it. His eyes spilled dark, erotic novels, the kind I avoided like GMO produce ’cause the last thing I needed bursting up inside was more ideas for kink. I stuck with vanilla sex or the occasional spanking scenario, but the latter usually made me feel sad at my perpetual state of pale. My head began to chime or was it the doorbell? Yes, the door. I shivered at the direction of this conversation but rubbed my shoulder to pretend it was a chill from the gust, as the front door was definitely opened. “Please don’t call the cops on me.”

Out of site, Geoffrey dished more candy out to giddy trick-or-treaters, who were thrilled to get what goodies they scored. Wow, they came out so late in this neighborhood. Maybe because there were a lot of mansions and big houses to hit with long, long driveways.

“I’ll give you a choice then, Addison. It’s either a trip downtown or over my knee.”

I swallowed hard. My god. He said it, confirmed it and shoved my 99.7 percent surety out the window with a wave of absolute certainty. My heartbeat ricocheted like a super ball in a one-car garage. If he couldn’t feel the sudden spike in my pulse through my arm, I’m sure he could hear it. The embarrassing percussion flooded my ears. It was so freaking loud, booming, throbbing, speeding, and he was so close, so close to me. I gasped and took a step back, trying to break free from his clutch, but he held fast. “Do you mean you’re going to sp… um … you’re going to...” Dammitall! My lungs tightened, making my exhales come out with volume. I was almost wheezing from an even mix of fright and arousal.

Amusement pranced in his eyes again at my misery. He actually found it delightful that I struggled to roll the words off my tongue. But he wanted me to say it. He flashed clenched teeth, a slight smile on his lips. He was prodding me, urging me like a coach, to say the words I dreaded to say because they exposed too much about myself, things no one on earth knew. Well, no one but Logan. And he knew the second he’d laid eyes on me. I was not going anywhere, and he was not, would not be letting go of my arm until I said it.

I cleared my throat and straightened my back and shoulders. I shifted my gaze from his mouth—rose petal lips and perfect teeth I imagined grazing down my neck and inner thighs—back up to his all-seeing eyes. I swear I gulped down chalk dust right before I muttered, “Do you mean spanking? That you’re going to spank me?”

“No.”

“No?” I cried, with the unfortunate lacing of annoyance. Heat engulfed my face. What the hell was all that then! A trip over his knee? What the heck did he mean? Was I wrong about him?

His barely-there but definitely-there smirk told me I’d reacted exactly as he’d hoped. “A spanking is something delightful and fun, some playful smacks you might get on your birthday. Or it might be something erotic serving as foreplay, that you can stop at any time with a cute, magical safeword.”

I knew where he was going and cast a sideways glance. The audience of poker players was unified in its silent watch, mouths agape and surely watering.

“I am saying, you can choose. Take a trip downtown or bend over my knee, which means, precisely, that I can and will rip down your panties and thrash your ass with whatever I want, for as long as I want, until you’re candy-apple red and wailing and screaming my name so loudly they can hear you in China. You won’t have any exit pass, sorry. You wouldn’t get that option with a headmaster.

He knew. I twitched, fuck it, and he smirked again, more openly that time. He rightly assumed I’d know about safewords too. I’m not sure if normal people know their purpose, but his mention of it proved to me he knew exactly what kind of person I was, and that he had at least a basic knowledge of BDSM. He knew to say that and that it would leave me with a craving to press my belly to his thighs without even a hint of contest.

“This is a punishment. But, you deserve to be punished in a way you’ll never forget, for all of the naughty things you’ve done this evening. Don’t you agree, Addison?”

I juiced up, nearly swooned in delirium. Was this seriously happening? This hot guy was going to spank me? Over his freaking knee! And there’d be no way out? Did I get knocked out and land in a coma when I smashed into the ground? That was my ultimate, ultimate fantasy, the one that always made me come the quickest. Unable to speak, I gathered the hem of my skirt into my fist and squeezed because it was the only thing close enough to hold onto. Aside from him. “Um...”

“You cannot leave here without paying up. So what is your choice?”

Although I was turned on about giving up control and yielding my butt for his whims of pain and punishment, I was also scared out of my mind. I had never done that. I’ve never been brave enough to say the words, to ask for what I truly crave. I mean, how do you ask for that without coming across like the freak? Sure, I’d thought about it, a lot, but to actually do it, to go there? With every cell of my body, I knew there’d be no turning back. And I don’t mean with the spanking. If I did that, gave in to him, it would surely not only hurt like hell, I would also never, ever be the same. It would unleash the kinky sub devil inside me, and what if I couldn’t put it back? But getting chastised by the police, likely slapped with a community service order, maybe even kicked out of college? Yeah, that couldn’t happen. One night of blissful torment or the entire collapse of my life? Not even a tough choice. It was a risk I had to take. I’d just have to deal with the volcano.

“Um, if I choose Option B, will you keep the police and the dean out of this? Do you swear?”

“I give you my word. Your grievances will be settled. But you will need to insist that your House never does this again. I don’t care what you have to do to get that bitch to stop, just make sure that you do.”

Scratching my prickly neck, I looked at the table of onlookers. I couldn’t wait to escape their nauseating, horny gazes. Gappy’s cock already poked up in his pants like a flag staff. Good god, he was still rubbing it, more than before. Logan would take me up to his room, or maybe he had a whole wing I don’t know, and do his worst ... his absolutely wonderful worst. “Okay.”

“Okay, what. Spell out your choice, in front of these men.”

Dizziness jingled in my head. Damn. “You are right. I have behaved poorly and deserve a fitting punishment for my misdeeds, so I, Addison Montgomery, … surrender … to your knee … and am willing to receive whatever pain that entails, and I will make sure my House never does this again.”

“Fine,” he said coldly.

When he released me, I massaged circulation back into my arm. I searched his eyes for warmth or satisfaction with my choice, but it just wasn’t there.

“Walk out of this room, continue to the right down the hall and turn right again at the end, into the dining hall. Bring an armless chair back here.”

My lungs began to quicken, body, shake. “Wait. Nooo. You’re going to spank me here?” I looked at the table of gawkers, every one of them beaming like the Cheshire cat, then back at him. “You can’t! I didn’t know that was a part of the deal.”

“Certainly. It’s my father’s house you egged and his guests you disrupted. I think it’s only fitting they get to bear witness to your severe correction. Don’t you agree?”

“Um, no, I … Can we please settle this matter privately?”

“No. Do you wish to renege?”

“No, but...” I was nearly hyperventilating. Moisture clawed out of my tear ducts and gathered on the lids. “Please, Logan,” I begged, hands clasped together.

“Go get the chair, Addison.”

I shut myself into darkness and took deep breaths. Tears finally spilled, leaving wet trails on my face. One slid toward the corner of my mouth and I caught it with the tip of my tongue. Those five words, so decadently spoken in a lower octave, his tone, so resolute and unflinching, punched my gut. I was crazy, totally insane, because, like a robot, without the option of declining its designer, I opened my eyes, spun on my heels and did exactly as he asked. I had to. From somewhere deep inside, this block rose up, leaving me unable to resist. I couldn’t. I have no idea why, but I yearned, ached to make him happy, to not let him down. No, that wasn’t entirely true. In all honesty, I wanted him to find me worthy. Maybe then, my life could begin, and I could be free from the strangling confines of a vanilla world that would consider me a deviant or a mar on the hear-me-roar mentality of womankind. In spite of the horror and humiliation I felt about being spanked in front of these drooling farts, I also couldn’t wait to feel Logan’s hands on me. As I pictured laying across his legs, zaps assaulted my stomach and spiraled downward like beautiful, glowing streams of fireworks.

On the way back to the game room with the chair, I was shaking so badly from the emotional collision, I nearly dropped it three times. Trick-or-treaters at the door noticed me, and Geoffrey turned toward me, candy bowl in his hands. It was better that I couldn’t see his expression. It likely held a vomitus smile, or maybe a scowl, because he was stuck on door duty instead of free to watch the show.

Logan made me do this, go get this chair, to heighten my shame. And it was working. I gulped down gravel and tried to disguise my tremble and walk smoothly into the room of waiting, wide eyeballs, but I knew I looked like a trashed vagabond with Parkinson’s.

As I made my way over, I zoned in on Logan’s hands, so clean and smooth, nails perfectly short, but surely not from nibbling. This dude had balls of steel. And with balls on my mind, suddenly, I saw myself on all fours in front of him, sucking the skin of his sac and taking an entire nut into my mouth, where my tongue could roll around it like one of those big, round lollipops you see at the drugstore. Banana split came to mind. Did guys even like that? With the twisted way my mind bent, who knew. Gosh, I was disgusting! I didn’t even know this guy. Why were his balls in my mouth!

“Very good, Addison.” His eyes gleamed and his lips tilted into a comical smirk, all Bruce Willis-like, as if he knew some joke I didn’t … or exactly what I was picturing.

A bouquet of flames bloomed in my face. I hope he didn’t actually know where his balls just were. God, what a slut. I set the chair facing the poker table in front of the couch that faced the players, but Logan turned it away about 30 degrees. Great. I knew then that he was right handed and that the present company would get a much better view of the smacking action and the reddening of my butt.

One guy with his back to the spank-a-rama twisted his seat.

The growing, internal blaze slicked up my forehead, crawled down my neck, tore into my chest cavity and singed my lungs. I closed my eyes and forced a deep breath.

A light draft swept up my arms from his change in position and the chair let out a creak as he sat.

I was still shaking, but a new shiver rolled up my body too. My tummy roiled and my heart fell into a frenzy. I was terrified and horrified and also … deeply, utterly aroused. I took in a full inhale through my nose and exhaled through a quivering pout.

“Let’s go. You know why this needs to happen.”

I knew he was not talking about the spanking directly. He meant the whole event, me and him going over this unthinkable and delectable threshold together, exposing a part of ourselves, right now, in front of a freaking audience.

I let out the whiney mew of a four-year-old and cringed as I stepped toward him. He clasped the tops of my fingers and dragged my arm down at his side to bend me over him. I’d planned on sexily gliding my feet back to get into position, but in my 3-inchers, my feet slid back before my hands even reached the floor, and I crashed down onto his lap. He chortled. With one palm, I stuffed my face-plant into the 18", fudge ripple tiles and pushed myself back up so my hips were over his right thigh. I joined my hands together on the marble and dug my toes in, legs extended. I still felt like I was going to fall over his knees and onto the floor.

“Ask. Beg me for it.”

Uh, good god. My eyelids fluttered madly and my core squeezed at an emptiness that instantly became jam-packed with savage lust. “Mmm … uh...” I paused and closed my eyes. Three, then four heavy breaths rushed out of me, and my body took on a new tremble. “Ah, uh, spank me, please,” scuttled out like barbed wire, but I almost capped it off with, “Sir.” Shit! I quickly morphed the hiss into a cough.

“As you wish.” His fluttering fingers tickled my legs as he raked the babydoll up my thighs. My body was awakened, so hyper-alert to his slightest touch. “Thank you for not making me wait, but that will not earn you any mercy from me. You’ve committed many offenses this evening that you must punished for. We will be finished when, and only when, I feel you’ve paid your due.” When the hem reached the edges of my red lace panties, his other hand gathered the babydoll up slowly inch by inch over my butt and red bra strap. He then smoothed it out over my shoulders with the softest stroke. His floating caress twirled down my back and bottom and legs like a dozen butterflies.

He tucked his left arm firmly around my torso, and that, combined with the fine sculpture of his thighs, brought me some stability. I no longer felt like I was going to fall off his lap, but I was still hurtling down a fast track into an abyss of perversion.

As if he could still read my mind, he untied my angel wings and spun them to the floor. It felt so symbolic, especially that he did it, him clipping my wings and tossing away my innocence like that. No one could see with me facing the opposite way, but I kissed the air, kissed that unspanked, ungroped, virgin girl goodbye. In the next few seconds, I’d be able to check the first one off my to-do list, and after this, I knew I’d be hungry to chase the rest. He also stripped off my halo, the devil tail tied around my waist and my horned headband, along with the bobby pins in my hair that he was now gliding his fingers through. They clustered together on the floor. Now, I was no longer any kind of angel or devil.

Just Addison.

Sick, naughty Addison.

On his lap in surrender.

Waiting to be spanked.

Because I so richly deserved it.

Hot Logan began kneading my bottom and thighs with a mix of hard and soft grabs, and he roamed his swirling caress around. He tossed in some pinches too. He was purposely building my anticipation and nervousness, making me wait for the best and worst part.

I trembled on his leg altar but tensed up, dreading yet craving contact with his firm hand, that first chastising slap, promising more and more and more, with no way out.

I was so glad he was wearing jeans instead of lighter pants. Hopefully, he was unaware of the sticky dew dribbling out of me.

A smack finally landed on both cheeks. It fell in between gentle and firm, as if he wasn’t quite sure how hard to hit. I was kind of disappointed, actually. This was my first spanking ever, and I mean ever, so I really wanted that first smack to drop my jaw and make me yelp. What the hell! He kept up with that same kind of half-assed spank, over and over, planting it on individual cheeks, sometimes both, in between kneading massages and caresses, but he wasn’t really putting any muscle into it. Was he just jerking me around, afraid to strike? Hit me, damn it! What happened to his promise of a red ass? Maybe he was not the force to be reckoned with I assumed he was. He did it again and again, all around. He was very thorough, I gotta give him that, covering every inch of my rear end and even working his way down the tops of my thighs.

My breaths were building, and it was not my imagination I’m sure, that the sudden seizure of my lungs directly coincided with an increase in his intensity, rhythm and strength. Spank, spank, spank now held a cadence that bested seconds and I was winded and shivering. God this was amazing.

“You have behaved...like a rotten...spoiled...mindless child...So it’s only fitting...you be punished like one.”

His words were beautiful. I wanted him to speak to me, chastise me so much more. That heightened the pleasure of this spanking tenfold. I knew I shouldn’t be enjoying a punishment this much, but I couldn’t help it. I loved everything about it, especially with the addition of his sexy voice telling me how bad I was and how much I deserved this. He was relentless, with no pauses at all in his delivery of yummy, wonderful smacks. The sound of hit after hit, of flesh meeting flesh, and him raining down on me, making me all rosy and warm, filled a room that was otherwise eerily silent except for the crackling fire. I was in heaven.

“This will not...end...until you have learned...a very…harsh...lesson.”

Don’t wake me if I’m dreaming. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I got an ex-boyfriend to plant a couple slaps on my butt, which took two hours of acting like a brat, but they were so limp-handed and playful, I wanted to grab his shirt and shake him. No, this, this was the way to be spanked.

Though it was bad and crazy, I kind of wished he would spank me every day, or at least, once a week. How on earth could I ever go back to the pale, sting-free hell I’d been in, now that I’ve tasted the peppery pleasure of a spanking done right? I can’t live without this. I can’t.

I knew this would happen. Knew it. This Logan dude was trashing me, branding himself in my mind, totally ruining me forever.

“I will not let up...until kisses...and even the softest touches”—three spanks came in quick succession—“burn you like flames.”

Kisses?! What? Was he going to be kissing my ass? I moaned at the thought. Uh, I sure hoped so … and felt wonderfully slutty for hoping so. 

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