Free Rod of Correction: Taken and Tamed by Carolyn Faulkner

most things about her – her stellar career and savvy business moves had him wishing he’d found her first.  They would have been an unbeatable pair. 
    They still could be, only not in the boardroom, and, after having gotten to know her over this past year, he’d become even more persuaded that he had to make her his .
    Now, as he spoke to her in a calm, low voice, he kneaded her rear, both soothing and aggravating it at the same time, which was exactly his intent.  His speech was frequently punctuated by her low moans and soft sobs.  “I have your cell phone, your keys, and my cell in the safe in my study.  I know you’re a busy lady – I’m just as busy as you are, probably even more so.  But you will not be getting either of those things back until tomorrow morning, just before I send you home.  No computers, no cells, for either of us.  And if you lose any money because of it, you can send me the bill.”
    He didn’t offer her the option, this time, of bailing.  As far as he was concerned, that ship had sailed. 
    “Who are you?”
    She wondered if it was a trick question.  “S-Sunny McClure, Sir?”
    “And what are you?”
    That one she struggled with for a long moment, then she sighed and said, “A submissive, Sir.”
    “Whose?”
    She kicked her feet a bit before answering, “Yours, Sir.”
    To her surprise, he helped her down very gently, making sure she had her full balance before he let go of her arm, then he proceeded to unbutton the shirt she’d put on in haste, not finding her clothes anywhere in the room.  “No more clothing, Sunny,” he chided.  “If I want you to be dressed, I’ll do it myself.”
    He laid the shirt over the couch she had just vacated.  “Are you cold?” he asked, frowning, noticing her peaked nipples.  “Do you want me to turn up the heat?”
    That had her blushing bright red and shaking her lowered head.  “No, Sir,” came the soft reply from under that mass of hair, embarrassed to let him know that it wasn’t cold that was causing that reaction.
    She might have expected that he would have her kneel before him as he did this, but instead he brought her close to him, one hand splayed on her furnace of a bottom, as if proudly claiming the effect his corrections had had on her, the other buried in the hair at the base of her head holding it tipped up and steady, so that she had no choice than to meet his eyes.
    “Fold your hands behind your back and tell me again, Sunny, who and what you are,” came the husky command.
    She could feel how aroused he was.  They were both nude; there was no hiding it, in his case, anyway, and in that position, her hips pressed outward as her back arched, as if seeking him.  She wished he hadn’t made her put her arms out of the way; she would have much preferred to have them around him while confessing something she found so strangely profound.  “I’m Sunny McClure, and I belong to you, Sir,” she almost whispered, staring straight into his eyes.  As she spoke the words, his hand came around to cup her womanhood, requiring that she spread her legs  to accommodate his quiet demand.
    She’d changed the wording a bit, but in a way that he loved, so he didn’t chastise her.  Of course he couldn’t resist delving a bit, holding her still while his middle finger drowned in her juices.  He watched her eyelids shudder, saw her breathing quicken as he drank in her immediate responses to him and felt her melt in his arms.
    All of a sudden, though, she found herself standing there, alone, still mesmerized, looking up at him with her every desire mirrored in her eyes, but he was already standing in the doorway to the kitchen.  “Breakfast is served.  Follow me.”
    She was very reluctant to be naked outside, but he assured her that he owned enough land around them that they couldn’t be seen, and reminded her that his driveway ended at the front of the house and they were going to be at the back, as well as the fact