letting her get away with wrong-headed thinking. "I'm not mad at you. Disappointed, I think. A little irked that you'd think I'd be a coward."
Popping up sharply, she pressed a hand against his chest, her eyes imploring. "You're not a coward, Deuce! I know that."
"My career is important to me," he told her. "But family troubles are part of everyone's life, Pilar. No one is going to hold me responsible for what your little brother does with his life." He covered her hand with his own and held it against his chest. "And I'll talk to Ricky. I doubt he'll care what I have to say, but I can try."
"You don't have to. You'll be wasting your breath."
"It's my breath to waste. Now go stand in the corner. Pull your panties down and your dress up."
In a little-girl voice, she asked, "Do I have to?"
"Yes, sugar, you do. Go on now."
She moved away from him and stood. "Are you going to spank me, too?"
He nodded. "Yes. Hard."
A deep sigh soughed from her mouth. There was something like relief on her face, a lightening of her eyes, a loosening of her tight lips. "Okay. I deserve it."
Deuce didn't say anything, and she walked toward a corner. When she got there, she pulled down her panties until they gathered at her ankles, and lifted her cotton dress so that the skirt was wadded up at her waist in the back. Her lovely heart-shaped bottom called to him. He wanted to stroke and squeeze, he wanted to coax sighs of pleasure from her with playful spanks. It was irritating to him that, once again, he was called upon to wallop her instead of loving her. But, it was necessary, both for her peace of mind and for the furtherance of their relationship.
"Nose into the corner."
She bent at the waist, and the plump lips of her pussy peeked out at him from between her legs. His cock hardened. This was not the time for sex, however. It was time for discipline.
He sat there, thinking about how their evening could have gone, about all the delicious things he'd rather be doing with her. Finally, tired of torturing himself, he picked up a newspaper and scanned it, looking for something to distract him from staring at her charms.
The paper crackled in his hand as he folded it and put it aside a half hour later. She was done with being fidgety, and now stood quietly, biding her time. Time was up, however. He rose and got a sturdy leather strap from his lowest dresser drawer, returning to the living room to his place on the couch.
"Kick off your panties and come over here, Pilar."
Shoulders drooping, Pilar slipped off her shoes and dropped her panties on the floor. She walked over to him like she was walking through concrete, slowly, resolutely. He patted his thighs. "Over my knees."
"You don't have to do this, Deuce. I didn't mean to imply that you're a coward."
He didn't miss the fact that she was skirting the trust issue. It hurt him to think that she still didn't think he could be relied upon, but the only thing he could do—if he wanted to work through their relationship issues—was to deal with each problem as it occurred. If he was consistent enough with his affection and discipline, she'd come to have confidence in his integrity. He had to believe that.
"No wheedling, sugar. Over my lap."
Sighing, she did as she was told, offering up her tawny behind. "Can you keep your hands away?"
She thought about that for a moment. "This is going to be painful, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Then probably not."
He gathered her wrists in his left hand and held them at the small of her back. "Relax, Pilar."
"I can't! Hurry up, please!"
He mumbled, "At least you said please," right before he gave her the first stroke with the strap. She flinched and stiffened. Adjusting his grip on the leather, he spanked her again and she squeaked out "ow!" as he swatted her a few more times. Each time, her exclamations got more sharp, her breath coming in gasps.
"Have I ever given you any reason not to trust me, Pilar?" he lectured as he brought the strap down in a
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley