Free Meeting Her Master by Breanna Hayse

spanking.”
    “No! Blake, please…” Dahlia’ s eyes were wide with panic.
    “You heard him, young lady. Stand up,” Mrs. Alonso ordered as she sat down in a straight-backed chair across the room.
    “No, please don ’ t,” the girl whimpered, true fear in her eyes. “ I don’ t want you to spank me.”
    “You have been very naughty and we are very disappointed in you. Over here now, and face the consequences of your bad choices,” Mrs. Alonso scolded softly. Dahlia broke into a torrent of tears as she looked at Blake for sympathy, and only saw a stern, no-nonsense tilt of his chin. Her limbs shook as she obeyed, lifting her naked body from the bed and approaching the older woman.
    “Stop dragging your feet, Dahlia. You are going to have a very sorry bottom today and will learn a lesson that you desperately need,” Blake said, crossing his arms.
    Dahlia hiccupped as she stood before Mrs. Alonso, her head hanging shamefully. She whimpered as her firmly gripped wrist was pulled to the left, drawing her across the woman ’ s long thighs. A neatly manicured hand rested on the still-welted globes and gently squeezed, eliciting a yelp.
    “ You can’ t be that sore yet,” Mrs. Alonso stated. “Save those tears for when you really need them.”
    Dahlia howled after the first series of relentless spanks upon her sit spots. Unknown to her, the older woman had slipped a hand paddle over her palm, providing a thick, smooth surface to add to her strength. The spanks were fast and unyielding, not allowing Dahlia to either anticipate or to adjust to the rhythm or the intensity of the slaps. She began to kick and squirm, only to find she was restrained by Mrs. Alonso ’ s long leg wrapped neatly around her own flailing legs.
    “You are not going anywhere, child. I am an expert horse trainer and participate in archery competitions. Trust me when I tell you that I am able to go for hours without tiring and that my muscles are well accustomed to repetitive motion. You are going to be sporting a well-painted backside by the end of this day if you do not submit to the fact that you are cared for.”
    Those words struck Dahlia harder than the ferocity of the smacks covering her bottom. She attempted to resist the welling of agony that bubbled inside her chest as the swelling tide of emotions that she was neither equipped nor willing to face began to surface.
    “…you will have a family here,” Mrs. Alonso was saying, not breaking the cycle of swift drumming. “All of us are involved in each other ’ s lives once you accept your place. You will have brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and, like it or not,” a blur of spanks ambushed Dahlia ’ s bruised posterior, “you will also have a mommy and daddy who care enough to say no.”
    The spanking ceased as abruptly as it had begun as a wail of honest distress filled the room. Mrs. Alonso held Dahlia across her knee, her now-bare hand softly caressing the multi-colored backside that shivered from the sobs. Dahlia clutched the woman ’ s leg, not caring that she was leaving a puddle of tears upon the floor. Mrs. Alonso allowed a few minutes to pass with her in this position, giving Dahlia the opportunity to experience the full impact of true emotional release. She then patted her back and ordered her to sit up.
    “Look at me, child,” the warm voice said, lifting a hand to the red and puffy face.
    “I ’ m sorry,” Dahlia sniffed pathetically.
    Mrs. Alonso smiled. “You are forgiven. Go with Blake now and remember what you have learned today.”
    “Yes, ma ’ am.” Dahlia accepted Blake ’ s hand and began to walk out, still quite naked. She paused and turned, broke his grip, and raced into Mrs. Alonso ’ s arms. “Thank you,” she sobbed.
    “You ’ re welcome, baby girl. This is one mama that won ’ t walk out on you because you have needs. I promise.”
    Dahlia did not see Blake mouth ‘thank you ’ to his old friend as he gently pried her from the woman