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Authors: Kathryn R. Blake

Tags: #Romance, #Erotica, #spanking

Arrested By Love (3 page)

BOOK: Arrested By Love
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She nodded her head. "Could you at least unfasten the cuffs first."

He considered it for a moment. Having her cuffed would ensure she kept her hands out of the way, but she'd struggle against them to get free, which could hurt her wrists badly. He gave a little circling motion with his finger, and she obediently turned her back to him. When he unlocked and removed the cuffs from her, she promptly covered her face with her hands.

Getting back into the car, he brought the door to a near close again and drew her back against his chest. "I don't like seeing you so miserable, Tiff. But even though it breaks my heart, I am not going to relent on this. I will be honest and warn you it's going to hurt. A lot. And you'd best think up a plausible excuse to tell your dad why you can't sit comfortably for a couple of days. However, I can also promise that your luscious bottom will suffer no lasting marks from this punishment. No marks at all, if I can help it."

"That's not very comforting, Kyle," she whispered, pressing back to get closer to him, so he wrapped his arms about her and simply held her until she'd settled a little bit more.

Then gently pushing her from him, he used his best police officer arresting voice and said sternly, "This is a punishment, Tiffany Anne. And as such I'm going to do my best to make it very uncomfortable for you in many ways." He lifted the blanket from her shoulders and set it aside. "Now, lower your undies and place yourself in the proper position on my lap. I'm not going to help you this time. You need to do it yourself."

She covered her face with her hands again. "I can't," she whimpered.

"Yes, you can." He turned her so she faced him and adopted a stern expression. "Underwear down. Now, young lady. Unless you want me to start adding swats again."

Tiffany's face immediately crumpled and she looked like she would wail again, but she held it together and, with great reluctance, slowly did as he'd instructed. When her bottom was bare, he leaned back against the seat and patted his lap. "You know the position. Take it now please."

She began to shake her head until he arched an eyebrow. Then, she let out a small sob and inched her way across the seat on her hands and knees with all the speed of a snail until her stomach was properly positioned over his lap. Once there, she lay down with her head resting on her crossed arms, and legs stretched out behind her. Kyle considered tucking her legs beneath his right thigh, then decided against further restraint at this time with the full understanding that it could well prove necessary later. Since he intended to make this a long and very painful session for his girl.

"Skirt needs to be raised above your waist," he reminded, arms at his sides.

After letting out another little sob, she shifted and squirmed on his lap until her skirt was raised and her bottom was completely exposed to him, then she lay back down.

She was being a very good girl, so he lightly rubbed her for a moment in order to get her to relax a little. If she could keep from tensing her muscles, the spanking wouldn't be nearly as painful or intense for her. However, he knew from experience that asking or expecting her to relax in that way was practically impossible.

Speaking in a low, soothing voice, he said, "You have a very pretty bottom, Tiffany Anne Morgan, and I hate having to be so harsh with it, and you." She let out a sigh that bordered on a sob, but he felt her relax.

"Good girl," he praised, then keeping to his word, he issued the command he knew would totally push her over the edge. "When you're ready, I need you to beg me to begin your correction."

"Kyle!" she protested, jerking her head up and tightening her buttocks with resistance.

He continued his gentle rubbing. "I'm sorry, Tiffany, but that's the way it needs to be. You recklessly endangered your own life--on purpose. Therefore, I need you to admit aloud, both for yourself and me, the reason you are being punished today, and beg me to administer a well-deserved and necessary paddling to ensure that you never exhibit such dangerous, juvenile behavior again." Though he didn't raise his voice, he made sure his tone grew sterner with every word he said.

That set her off as she collapsed back down on his lap and wailed, then tried to talk between her sobs. "I'm sorry, Kyle. I promise to never break the speed limit again, but please don't make me beg you to punish me. I can't. It's just too humiliating."

He didn't say anything for a moment as he continued to lightly rub her until she settled a little more. Then he asked, "Tiffany, do you accept that I only want you safe?"

She gave her head a little shake.

"Verbal acknowledgement, please," he reminded.

"Yes, sir," she conceded a little wetly.

"Do you know what it is that you did wrong, and what I am punishing you for?"

"Going over the speed limit?" she answered softly, beginning to relax again.

"No. That's not it."

"Driving recklessly?" she offered uncertainly.

"That's part of it, yes. And why do you think I consider that to be so bad?"

"Because I could get hurt. But Kyle, forty-five miles an hour isn't that fast. It's not as if I was driving ninety through the middle of town."

"Tiffany, are you going to argue with me about this now?"

"No, sir," she answered a little sullenly.

"Smart choice. Now given that I am concerned for your safety and feel you recklessly endangered your life with your shenanigans today, do you believe my punishment fair?"

She gave a little snort at that, and he responded with a light smack on her buttocks.

"Ow," she murmured, turning back to scowl up at him.

"That, sweetheart, was a love tap compared to what I'm about to give you. Now, answer the question, please."

"Truthfully, I think the number is more than a little harsh," she admitted, putting her head back down again.

Though Tiffany was no longer crying now, Kyle knew that wasn't going to last long. "Perhaps you do think it's harsh, but as I said earlier, the number is not negotiable."

She turned back to look at him again. "Yeah? Then what, in your opinion, is negotiable about this, Officer Sinclair?"

"From your point of view, absolutely nothing . However, since you seem to have trouble grasping this, I will outline my reasons again. You deliberately sped twenty-five miles per hour over the limit in a school zone on ice covered streets. And you did this solely in the hopes of gaining my attention. Once you got it, you brazenly attempted to bribe me with sexual services in order to avoid getting a ticket. Just considering those things alone, sixty-eight swats on your bottom with my hand is light compared to what I ought to be doing."

He stopped and took a deep breath. Getting riled with her now was not going to help the situation at all. After a moment, he added, "No doubt you'll have a little trouble sitting for a few days, but given the alternative consequences of your action, if you had lost control of your car for even a second, I believe a sore bottom is a small price for you to pay." He waited for a beat, then added, "Now, I await your humble request for me to begin your well-deserved spanking"

She let out a small groan, then said, "I regret my childish behavior and reckless driving, Officer Sinclair. And ask that you please proceed with my punishment."

It wasn't begging exactly, but Kyle took it as permission to commence. Holding her firmly in place with his left hand, he began to count out each swat he delivered at a steady, firm pace. Though he took care not to hit her too hard or in the same place too often, his swats were heavy-handed enough that by the county of thirty his palm stung and her butt cheeks were bright pink.

Though she cried out in protest with every stroke, and squirmed and bucked a few times during the first twenty, she refrained from calling him any names out loud. However, he suspected she still did it between her gritted teeth.

He'd carefully laid out the rules of this particular punishment before, and she knew if she made any attempt to block his swats or insult him, he'd add one stroke as a penalty. However, when he called out thirty-one she sobbingly begged him to stop, and threw her hand back to protect her sore rear end.

With a shake of his head, he simply drew her arm up and out of the way, then repositioned her so that her legs were firmly restrained by his thigh.

"No!" she cried out, once she realized what he intended.

"You know the rules, Tiffany. You are being restrained more firmly now because you broke them, and you will receive one extra swat for moving your hand in my way." Then he grimly continued carrying out her punishment.

At forty she was crying so hard that her pleas for him to stop emerged as little more than sobbing burbles. A part of him felt bad for causing her this much pain while another part of him knew if he stopped now she'd think she could weasel herself out of trouble every time with just a few tears. He had to see this through to the end, though he did lighten the intensity of his strokes quite a bit. He knew they still smarted since his hand still hurt with every stroke he delivered, just not as badly.

At fifty she stopped begging for him to stop and just gasped for breath as she continued to sob, and he figured she was crying too hard now to form intelligible words.

By the time he reached sixty, her bottom was bright red and she lay totally limp across his left knee. She wasn't sobbing, crying or making any sound at all. Worried he'd been too harsh with her, he lightened the intensity of his swats so much, the last nine swats he gave her were little more than pats on her terribly inflamed butt.

The moment he delivered the sixty-ninth stroke he heard her give a water-logged sob of relief, which filled him with no little amount of relief in return.

She lay like a wilted flower on his lap with no strength left to move. Her butt was almost purple it was such a deep red by now and his hand was smarting pretty badly, too. So he suspected her nerves had shut down. When they reawakened, she would be in for a lot of pain. A lot. Unfortunately, the lotion he liked to use was going to awaken those sleeping nerve endings with the effect of an electric shock.

He vacillated for just about a second whether or not he should use it, except he didn't like the way her flesh was turning an even deeper maroon as he watched.

Knowing she was too weak to protest anything he did, he drew the bottle from his pocket, flipped its cap and poured a good-sized dollop of the lotion at the base of her spine, which he hadn't touched. She gave a small jerk and he knew it was due to the coldness of the liquid. He could have warmed it first with his hands to lessen the shock, but the cool temperature of the balm helped to ease the pain. Like an ice pack. After her brief movement, she tried to pull away as though she suddenly realized what he intended.

"No!" she cried. "Oh, God, please no! That stuff will kill me."

Pressing down on her shoulders, he said, "It won't kill you." However, the moment the lotion touched a sleeping nerve, Tiffany arched her back and screamed. She didn't buck or jerk, but held completely still, like it hurt too much for her to move. Then she screamed so loud his ears rang.

"Tiffany!" he yelled back so he could be heard over cries. "Count backwards from ten!" he ordered sharply. The counting would help distract her, and it usually took less than ten seconds for the lotion to provide ease once he had it completely spread over the area."

Except rather than count, she just continued screaming.

Realizing yelling wasn't getting him anywhere, he lowered his voice to a murmur, kept his grasp firm, and his touch light. "I know its hurting really badly now, Tiff," Another scream. "But this will help, I promise." A less frantic yell. "Just count back with me, sweetheart. Please." A sob. "Ten," he prompted and she repeated it after him.

"Good girl, stay with me here. "Nine, Eight, Seven, Six, Five...."

She dutifully repeated each number after him, though he didn't need to go any lower than five, for she lay down again with a sigh and relaxed completely.

"That's my girl. It's much, much better now. Isn't it?"

"Mmm." Was the only response he received from her, so he kept up a one-sided conversation as he continued to very gently work the lotion into her skin.

"I know this wasn't easy for you, and it certainly wasn't easy for me. Even so, I'm proud of the way you finally accepted your punishment, Tiff. You're a very brave girl, and you handled yourself like the lovely young woman you are."

She snorted at that, but didn't contradict him.

When the color of her buttocks had gone from nearly purple to a bright pink, he was satisfied the lotion had been properly dispersed, and though he loved rubbing her backside, and could do it all day long, he knew it was time for her to get back home. Her parents would be worried.

"Okay, sweetheart. Let's get you up and dressed now, all right?"

She let out a disgruntled groan at that pronouncement.

"Yes I know you're finally comfortable and really don't want to move, but your mom and dad are going to be worried about you if you don't get home soon." He moved his leg and shifted her so she was lying flat again, receiving yet another groan of disapproval for disturbing her. "Up you go, sweetheart," he urged helping her rise to her knees. "Let's get your panties on first, okay?"

She shook her head. "Don't want to. It's gonna hurt," she protested with a pout.

Ignoring her he reached on the floor for her discarded underwear, then held them out to her. "Sit down, and we'll get these back on you."

"You're joking. Right?" she asked, staring at him in disbelief. "You really think I can sit right now?"

"Yes, I do. It's going to feel a bit like sitting on a really bad sunburn, but you can manage it."

She shook her head. "I don't think so, Kyle. This vinyl seat is really hard, and cold."

"Tiffanny...," he warned softly, letting her know this was not the time for her to be arguing with him.

She winced then moved very gingerly. The moment her butt hit the seat she jerked back up and tears instantly filled her eyes. "Ow! Ow! Ow! Oh, God, it really hurts, Kyle!"

BOOK: Arrested By Love
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