So Lilah rode the desk, her hips dancing with the ruler. Her ass red as cherries, and now impressively mobile. Jaime concentrated the strokes on the softer skin of her underbum. He’d given up trying to break the ruler, but he was impressed with the colour and heat it raised. He was feeling heat and need for her, and he was feeling cruel.
He concentrated his attention, and the stingy heat of the ruler, on a line just a couple of inches above the crease of her thighs, keeping the blows hard on that line until she squealed. Lilah was wide-eyed now, and slightly teary. She puffed deeply, in time with the strokes. She’d become quite vocal. Jaime didn’t know why, but she preferred to take discipline in silence. He liked that she’d lost that last sliver of control.
He smacked her hard, so she’d think he was about to give a series of slow, deliberate strokes. She waited, expecting more pain while he unzipped and fumbled a condom on. He put his hand in her hair and pushed her nose and forehead to the desktop and slid into her.
He tightened his grip in her hair and fucked her hard, without build-up or tenderness. Lilah yammered, howling like a siamang, and Jaime joined in at lower pitch. The desk rocked under them and moved forward until Lilah’s fingers were caught between the desk she still desperately gripped and the wall.
Later Jaime paused and put his hands over hers, to protect her and to possess her. He had no idea how often Lilah had come. Eventually he let himself come. He rested, with the heated softness of Lilah trapped between his body and the cold hard desk. He softened inside her, and – reluctantly – had to withdraw before the condom could slide loose.
Jaime put the ruler in Lilah’s mouth, and told her she was staying with him that night. “Yeah,” she said. “I might.”
But she always challenged him a little after she’d been beaten and fucked. In Jaime’s experience she challenged and then did as she was told.
Jaime noticed, in the office toilets where he went to flush the condom away, that he’d have to sponge the front of his pants. Lilah had been foamily pleased, and he hadn’t taken his suit off. He made a start with some tissues, then did up his fly. She was still dressing when he returned. He put the files back on the desk, and sprayed the office with air freshener to cover the smell of sex.
Lilah had her belt back on. Jaime slapped her bottom again, to remind her of various important things. “Home,” he said.