What She's Looking For (13 page)

“You want to be submissive, but not
really submit. Is that it, Ashley?” He scowled at her, hoping his gambit would
work.

“What the hell is that supposed to
mean?” Her eyes flashed, points of color rising at each cheekbone. She was
really quite lovely when she was angry.

“What did he do to you, girl? What
scared you?” He reached out and ran a finger along her cheek.

She glanced down, then met his
gaze. “Parker, I can’t. I really … can’t.”

He sat back again, sighing. “I
don’t believe you, Ashley. You allowed me to strip you, cuff you. You’ve done
almost everything I’ve asked. You can do this, yet you still hold something
back.”

“Parker, please … “

“No. I know you can,” he said,
pointing at her. “But it’s too soon. It’s
not
too soon to give you what
you want though. What we both want. Before we do though, there’s something I
want you to say.”

He wasn’t sure
he
wanted
this, a way out. Something between them. But until she could tell him, he had
no choice.

Her eyes were round, tear-bright,
lower lip trembling ever so slightly. Her thighs shook a little at the strain
of the position. Such a body. His hands twitched to feel her flesh, the
throbbing of his hard cock insistent.

“I’m going to spank you, Ashley. As
long and as hard as I want to. Do you understand?”

She nodded, biting her lip.

“If it gets too painful, or you
need to stop, you say
Terry.
” He noted the flinch at his use of the
name. It would work just fine. “If you say that, everything stops. I go home;
you go to bed.”

“I don’t want that. I can take it.”

“No. I’m not giving you a choice
here.”

She grimaced, her brows knit
together. Finally, she nodded.

He couldn’t tell her that he
couldn’t bear the thought of dredging up some horror from her past, in the
midst of his ignorance of what had been done to her. Until she truly
surrendered, truly let go, it would have to do. The last thing he wanted her
thinking about was another man while she was with him. He wanted her mind, her
emotions, and her cunt concentrated solely on him. He expected nothing less.

“Now. Stand up and come over here.
It’s time for your spanking, girl.” He reached out his hand to her.

Ashley rose, stumbling a little
without the use of her hands.

“We’ll work on that,” he murmured.

She walked to him and he clasped
her hip, enjoying the momentary vision of her plump mons just inches from his
face. He inhaled her scent, and looked up at her, grinning. “At least part of
you is looking forward to this.”

Her lips twisted in dismay, as she
looked away. He very much enjoyed discomfiting her. He’d have to be careful
lest he get carried away with it, though. Patience would pay off, in the long
run. Hopefully, there would be time enough in the future to explore it to the
extent he preferred.

He grasped her upper arm in his
hand, his other reaching across her bottom to clasp her far hip. He luxuriated
in the soft, vulnerable flesh of her bottom against his forearm. His cock
jumped painfully in the constriction of his clothing.

Guiding her down across his lap, he
positioned her with her head well down, but balanced across his thighs to
prevent her from tumbling forward. He tucked her hips against his, making sure she
could feel what this was doing to him.

She murmured, writhing her hips
against his aching cock, and he bit back a groan.

“Stop that,” he said, clasping the
base of a plump buttock in his hand. “Time enough for that later. You stay
still for this.”

Clasping her hands together in her
cuffs, she obeyed.

Her body was a spanker’s dream. Her
broad bottom was made for his hand, his paddle, his cane. It was gorgeous. He
wasn’t sure he’d be able to get through this without coming in his pants like a
schoolboy.

Into every life, a little rain
must fall, Parker.

Ashley flinched when instead of
smacking her, his hand smoothed over the broad expanse of her bottom,
squeezing, and kneading the ample flesh. He tested her with a pinch to the
underside of her far buttock, and she tensed. She was sensitive indeed.

“You haven’t had this done in a
while have you, hmm?”

She shook her head.

“What?”

“No, Sir,” she whispered.

He could picture the look of
embarrassment on that lovely face, and wished he could see it. Next time, mirrors.
His hands smoothed over the pleasing curves of her hips, down the backs of the
thighs. He tickled the sensitive flesh behind a knee and she crossed her legs.

“No. Don’t cross,” he said, tapping
the alabaster flesh of her thigh. “Keep them together though.”

She reluctantly complied, and he
made her wait a moment more. Raising his hand, noting the tensing of her body,
he brought it down in a firm smack, her cheek wobbling at the blow. She jerked,
but stayed quiet, the outline of his hand pinkening on her soft, trembling
flesh.

“Finally,” he murmured, and raised
his hand again.

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

P
arker’s hand came down again, and she
bit back a groan. He spanked hard!

Though she knew it would absolutely
infuriate Parker, she couldn’t help but compare it to the few times Terry had
done it. Parker’s hand made those feel like love taps.

Another blow landed, the heat of
her ass rising with each smack.

“Oww, Parker — Sir! Not so hard,
please!”

The rumble of his amusement both
pissed her off and made her cunt spasm. It wasn’t fair.

His smacks continued, the pace
picking up, his big hand alternating between cheeks. Her soft flesh felt
utterly defenseless against that very hard hand. She couldn’t believe it hurt
that much, and he’d just gotten started.

His hand landed at the junction of
her thigh and bottom, and she yelped with the burn. He spanked her again in the
exact same spot, the pain spiraling higher. She twisted her hips as his hand
raised once more.

“Stop moving, Ashley.” Fresh fire
bloomed again as his hand came down on the other cheek, again at that tender
junction. She knew it was called the ‘sit spot’, but she hated the term with a
vengeance. It just sounded so … childish, to her.

The blows stopped, and he pulled
her hips tighter against him. She could feel the hard erection against her hip,
and she wished she could feel its bare heat against her flesh, rather than
through the fabric of his jeans. Still it wouldn’t quite seem right, her being
spanked while he was nude (her fantasies were very specific on that particular
point).

She sighed with relief — and
anticipation — as his hand smoothed over the hot skin of her spanked ass.

“So red already, girl. Your skin is
so pale, I can see every single hand print.”

She squirmed again, kicking her
legs. He caught them, pinning them down with his right leg. She had no way of
fighting him now. As if to reinforce that fact, his fingers slipped between her
thighs, testing the wetness of her sex. She gasped as he slipped a long digit
deep into her, his knowing touch stroking exactly where he knew she loved it
most.

He kept at her, alternating those
deep plunges with one, then two fingers, with dexterous circles of the
calloused tips over the throbbing flesh of her clit. Soon she was spreading her
thighs wider, bucking her hips.

“Calm down, girl.” He wiped the
juices coating his fingers onto the flesh of her inner thighs. “We aren’t even
close to done.”

Damn him! Just a few more strokes
and she would have been there. It had been way too long (not counting the gift
of “self-love” as Tara liked to call it). But it was apparently not in the
cards.

“Something you want to say?”

She tried to look back at him, but
her hair surrounded her head in a dark shroud. “You could have let me come, you
know.”

He chuckled. “You’re going to pay
for that.”

His hand resumed her punishment,
the pace quicker, the blows harsh. She grunted at the first few, reflexively
pulling on the cuffs despite the vise-like grip his hands had on both her
wrists. Very soon, the pain was too much to endure stoically. She felt his hand
tighten on her pinioned hands. “Don’t pull at them. You’ll scrape your wrists.”

“Then you shouldn’t have used them,
damn it!”

His hand came down harder with a
loud crack in the center of her ass cheek.

“Ahh, please!” she yelled,
surprised at the sting of a particularly hard slap on the fleshiest part of her
cheek. She was mortified at the jiggle of her flesh at each blow, but the pain
was so harsh that she just didn’t have time to think about what she must look
like. He’d lit a fire in her ass, and his relentless strokes continued to stoke
it higher and higher.

“Ashley?”

“Yes … ahh. Damn it!”

“Do you have anything to say?”

What the fuck was he talking about?
“How about, stop! You’re killing me!”

His hand stopped the merciless spanking
to soothe her blazing flesh with his fingers. He stroked the swollen blotches
left by his palm, and she moaned at the pain. She hissed as he gently pinched
one particularly throbbing welt between finger and thumb.

“You’re doing just fine. Breathe
through it. You’ll be getting a lot worse than this if you stay with me, so
you’d better get used to it.”

Her traitorous pussy leaked juices
down her thigh at his words. She didn’t want to like this. She hated the pain,
the embarrassment of her exposure to his gaze and his roving fingers. But she
loved it as well, deep down in the place she’d hidden those shameful little
girl fantasies that scared her playmates. The place that was the real Ashley.

“A few more girl, then we’ll be
done for now. Be brave.”

His hand laid down rapid-fire
smacks up and down each cheek, methodically blasting every inch of skin with
burning blows. He cracked a few particularly searching shots along the tender
skin of her thighs, and she screamed. The sound of her screams startled her almost
as much as the realization that that pain shot like an arrow right into her
belly, her clit throbbing as insistently as the roasted flesh of her tortured
bottom.

Finally, he was done. He stroked
the sweat soaked flesh of her lower back, as she blew great breaths of air from
her lungs. He murmured to her, his other hand releasing her wrists to finger
the strands of hair away from her face, tucking some of the stray locks behind
her ear.

Her eyes stung with tears, but she
found herself inordinately proud that she hadn’t cried. She was honest enough
with herself to know that it would only have been a matter of time though, had
he continued to spank her. His hand would win every time. The dark pleasure she
felt at that thought disturbed her.

The cuffs were released from one,
then the other wrist, and she felt Parker’s hand tracing the abraded flesh. “Damn,
this might bruise a little.”

“My wrists or my ass?” As soon as
the words left her mouth, she knew they’d probably earn her another punishment.

But his soft laugh set her at ease.
“Both —though it’s your wrists I was talking about.”

She moved to get off his lap, and
his hand clamped down on her hip. “Not yet. You don’t get up until I give you
permission.”

Ashley whimpered, hiding her head
under the veil of her hair. His hands stroked her hips, the gentleness of his
touch at such odds with the pain they’d inflicted on her now rather sore ass.

She lay over his hard thighs,
willing her breathing to slow, trying not to think about what her big, red ass
must look like splayed out under his gaze.

His fingers again found her pussy,
the tips gently tracing the swollen outer labia. She inhaled as he spread her
lips wide, and she could feel his avid gaze boring into the core of her. Again,
the clever fingers frictioned her clit, insistent, knowing, finally leaving her
groaning. Two long fingers slid up into her, and she bucked at the sudden
invasion.

Oh fuck, that’s good.

Her ass throbbed, but the pressure
and almost painful sensation of her clit was even more insistent. His thrusting
fingers filled the quiet room with the wet sounds of her sex welcoming its
repeated invasion. He pistoned the digits more quickly, while he rubbed her
swollen clit in faster and faster circles. He buried his fingers particularly
deeply into her cunt, the tips playing with her cervix, making her womb clench,
and more juice coat his hand.

“God, that smells so fucking good,
Ashley,” he said, his voice thick.

She could hear his deep inhalation
as he sampled it, her scent that filled the room. She knew she should be
mortified, but all she wanted was to come. So close.

His fingers quit her clit for a
moment, only to smack her sore ass, leaving wetness on her skin. The blow was
relatively gentle, but against her already sore flesh, fresh pain bloomed, and
she cried out.

“Ah God, Parker. Yes!”

His fingers were back at the
swollen clit, rubbing it harder, almost painfully. She groaned again, as she
felt a third finger added to the two already plundering her slit. The
stretching sensation, while almost painful, just fanned the flames higher, her
hips swirling over his lap. She wanted his cock, she wanted him to spank her
more. It hurt, but that pain, his
control
of her pain was doing
something to her. Something dark, and shameful — but she no longer cared.

He slapped her again, harder. “Come
now
, Ashley. Let me feel it.”

The fingers pounded into her
faster, and at the clever, knowing touch to her burning clit, she climaxed.
Moaning, she dug her fingers into his muscular calves. “Oh god, Oh GOD!”

For a moment, her vision blacked,
her whole world the molten, spasming heaven of her sex clenching around those
fingers. She came back to Earth with those clever digits continuing to play at
her clit; the thrusts within her slower, but still plunging deeply into her
drenched, quivering sex. Her clit felt like it was going to explode, the
post-orgasmic sensitivity threatening to spill over into pain.

“Oh Jesus, Parker. Stop—”

“You’re not done, yet.”

Then she screamed, as his fingers
resumed their sublime and cruel dance, playing her cunt and clit like
instruments. Another orgasm hit her, her lower abdomen clenching in concert
with her pussy. She cried out again, her voice breaking somewhat, her hands
scratching at his legs, pushing at him. She couldn’t take the overload of
sensation, her nerves maxed out, frayed. Finally, she came back down, laying
limp over his lap, her hands resting on the floor. Her buttocks trembled and
her thighs shook with exhaustion.

“That was a good start, girl. You
needed that didn’t you?” His fingers were still, but remained firmly ensconced
within her wet pussy. His thumb circled the sensitive flesh of her anus, and
she clenched her buttocks together.

“Stop,” she whispered, pushing at
the floor, trying to extricate herself.

“You aren’t going anywhere.
Unclench those cheeks.” His thumb lay trapped between the hot, throbbing
buttocks, moving against her secret opening. “I’m going to be touching you
anywhere I want. Get used to it.”

“Okay, just not there. Please!”

“Why not, Ashley? Haven’t you been
touched there before?”

Oh God, she didn’t want to go
there with him. Oh God!

“Yes.” Her voice was barely
audible, and she was glad of the protective shroud of her hair to hide her
shame. Being touched there elicited sensations, feelings that she didn’t know
how to process. It made her feel the most vulnerable, the most out of control.
Like pain, she wasn’t supposed to like it. She wasn’t supposed to but …

“I said relax them, Ashley. We can
sit here all night if we need to until you do.”

Reluctantly, she complied, feeling
as if her asshole had a spotlight on it, when in reality it just had the
calloused pad of Parker’s thumb on it, stroking it.

He pulled his fingers from her sex
with a mortifying slick sound, and then wiped her juices over the sore curve of
one of her buttocks. He patted her ass, then she felt the fingers of both hands
ease between her cheeks.

She whimpered as he firmly parted
the cheeks of her ass as wide as they would go, the air of the room cool
against the sweat slicked flesh of her cleft. She wanted to sink into the
floor, as she felt his gaze on her most private of areas.

“Very nice,” he murmured. “So
pretty.”

His finger traced the crinkled
flesh, the tip worrying the opening. She felt her anus clench tighter in fear.

“You shouldn’t worry, girl. I may
like to look at it, but this is not the opening I most enjoy. Now Drake on the
other hand … “

She gasped. “What?”

He laughed. “Drake likes asses;
he’s going to
love
yours.”

What the fuck did he mean by that?
Was Drake really interested in her?

You’ve seen the way he looks at
you. Don’t be stupid.

The real question was what she
thought about that possibility — and what she thought Parker would think if she
was honest about it.

“Parker. What do you mean?”

He allowed her cheeks to close and
patted her sore globes. “We’ll take about that when it’s time, girl.”

He bent and placed a kiss on the
crest of each buttock, his cool lips heavenly against the blazing heat of her
skin.

“Okay, up you go,” he said, his
strong hands at her hips. He placed a pillow on the floor, much like their
first encounter. “Kneel there.”

“It’s like I’m back in church,” she
said, dropping to her knees.

Parker chuckled. “I rather like
that analogy, Ashley.”

She knelt, sighing at the coolness
of her bare heels against her burning buttocks. She kept her eyes down, not
wanting to meet his gaze, knowing what she must look like.

His hand burrowed into her hair,
grasping it in a fist. He turned her head up, moving the locks away from her
eyes so he could see her face. “I want you to look at me, Ashley. This is our
talk time. No hiding allowed.”

His smile lessened the tension in
her shoulders. Parker’s eyes sparkled as they searched her face, the depth of
their color momentarily making her forget her embarrassment at her exposure.

“Talk time is about honesty,
Ashley. It’s your time to ask — and say — whatever you want. No consequences.”

“What was all that for?” She knew
it would probably get her into trouble. The molten heat of her cunt seemed to
be thriving on trouble though, lately. The corners of his mouth lifted.

“Your spanking?”

Willing herself not to blush
further, her hands fidgeted in her lap. He reached out and clasped them in his.
“Just lay them here, girl” He pressed them palm down to her thighs. She
clenched her legs with her fingers.

“Are you nervous? Mad?”