“What do you mean, ‘feel better’? Sir?”
I put my hand on her cotton-cocooned right buttock and squeezed, to remind her that there was nothing to stop her from getting her morning spanking all over again. Jennifer shivered, her soft skin and firm muscles trembling under my hand. She understood that I was threatening to repeat her spanking. But she liked my hand.
“Some people get spanked regularly and often, Jennifer-” She made a wordless noise, not of protest but of recognition. Jennifer had learned that that was the kind of girl she was.
I’m going to have to cut here, though. This has been published and my publishers don’t want free competition from me. You can read it here.