The Firefighter's Girl (9 page)

For love.

She had screwed that up though when she had refused to see him again after the incident in her office. And now, well, she had screwed everything up, hadn’t she?

She went over the meeting with the lawyer, went over her own responses and reactions. Frustration and fear of what could happen to her if they didn’t believe that she was innocent weighed heavy in her belly and she broke position again to wipe the tears from her eyes and forced herself to focus on her present predicament: she was standing in the corner with her pants down around her ankles, her sweatshirt tucked up and her bottom on display waiting to be spanked. She shuddered, suddenly cold, and took a deep breath and a slow, long exhale, closing her eyes and leaning her forehead onto the wall. She stayed like that until finally, she heard his steps and knew that Sawyer was back and that it was time for her spanking. Her clit throbbed at the thought while her mind tried to makes sense of these strange, confusing emotions.

“Have you been a good girl and stayed just like that, Rebecca?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” she said, without turning.

“Are you ready for your spanking?”

Now she did glance back at him for a moment before nodding and turning her nose back to the corner.

“Turn around, Rebecca,” he said.

She turned, knowing to keep her hands where they were.

“Get the chair and place it in the center of the room.” He gestured toward the one wooden, high-backed chair.

She swallowed and went to step out of her pants.

“Uh-uh,” he said. “Leave them at your ankles and keep your hands at the back of your head until you pick up the chair.”

Her face burned crimson and she knew being naked would feel less naked than she felt at the moment. But she dropped her gaze, finding it easier to do this without having to look at him, imagining how she looked as she shuffled over to the chair, her hands on her head, her bottom exposed as she walked. She moved the pillow off the chair and set it on the floor, then carried it to the center of the room. She straightened and looked at him, his gaze telling her to resume her position, so she did.

“Good girl,” he said, then went to take a seat on the chair. “I’m spanking you for your inability to do as you were told earlier, for the book you threw at me, for your rude behavior with John, but also to help you let go of some of the frustration I know you’re feeling, Rebecca. Believe it or not, this will help you.”

“It’s going to hurt,” she said, remembering the pain from the last time.

“Yes, it is. And when I use my belt for the last strokes, those will be for the book and your rudeness, and you’ll hopefully be reminded of what consequences are the next time you choose to act out like that.”

“Your belt?” she asked, the memory of its sting so distant yet too near.

He nodded. “I’ll take you over my lap to start and when we’re finished with that, you’ll stand in the corner for another half hour before you bend over the chair and take the lashes with the belt.”

“Do you have to do that part?”

He nodded. “Ten with the belt if you’re good. Lie across my lap now, hands and feet on the floor.”

When he had done this before, he had not asked for her submission. Instead, he had taken it, spanking her without her consent. It was somehow easier to take then. But this, this placing herself over his lap, this offering of herself for his chastisement, was more difficult.

“Rebecca,” he said, motioning for her to get into position.

She eyed his lap and took the hand he offered. She then lowered herself so that her stomach came over his thighs and she balanced there until she could touch the floor.

“I want your bottom higher,” he said, adjusting her. “You’ll offer it for spanking so you’re not to round your back, but push your bottom out for me.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, straightening her legs and lifting her hips, imagining the target she made for him.

“Try to keep your hands and feet on the floor, Rebecca. I’ll hold you down if I have to, but I’d like you to take your punishment.”

She nodded, sniffling, her eyes wide in anticipation. The first smack came fast and hard, catching her right cheek. She gasped with the surprise of it, instinct making her reach back to cover herself, but his words reminding her to set her hands back down.

* * *

She couldn’t help the kicking of her legs; he knew that. Sawyer shifted her position to drape one leg over the tops of hers and pushed her lower back down, forcing her to lift her bottom higher.

He found a rhythm in the spanking and, with one hand between her shoulder blades to keep her torso down, he punished her. He struck softly at first, although he imagined she did not think so based on the sounds she was making, but he increasingly put more power behind the spanks until he was striking hard and fast, one cheek, then the other, watching all along how her soft flesh reddened beneath his hand, the print of his palm and fingers showing as her cheeks trembled. She called out every time, sniffling, and when he had to stop to push her hands out of the way for the fifth time, he paused.

“All right, give me your hands.”

She panted, catching her breath, looking over her shoulder as she pushed the hair from her face.

“Give them to me, Rebecca.”

“Is it over?” she asked.

“Hardly. Hands.”

She reached them back and he took them, gripping them in one hand and starting in on her bottom and thighs again immediately. Her torso hung over his lap now, her hair lying on the floor as she shifted her hips to avoid blow after blow.

“It won’t be over until you stop fighting it. All you have to do is stick your bottom out and take it. That is all.”

“It hurts, Sawyer.”

He struck hard on each cheek at that.

“Ow, ow, ow, please!” She was beginning to let go now, crying harder and he knew she needed this cry more than anything else.

“It hurts, what?” he asked.

It took her a moment, but she got it. “Sir! It hurts, sir.”

“Good girl. Take a breath, Rebecca,” he said, resting his hand on her bottom now, circling the heated, swollen flesh. “Almost done, but for this last part, I want you to plant your feet firmly on the floor and lift your bottom high.” He moved his leg off of hers and adjusted her so she was resting across both his thighs.

He let go of her hands and waited as her breathing became more regular and she shifted her legs, giving him just a glimpse of what lay between: the pink lips of her pussy glossy and inviting.

She set her hands and feet on the ground and lifted her bottom.

“That’s it. Push your bottom out and keep your cheeks soft.”

She did as he said, keeping her legs tight together. He’d have her spread them for the belt whipping she would take next.

Once she was in position, he delivered the last of her strokes and she held her position, adjusting quickly when she rounded her back or clenched her bottom. He spent some time on her thighs and when he was finished and the whole of her bottom and upper thighs were a cherry red, he stopped and lifted her to stand.

Her pants had slipped off her legs, but her sweatshirt fell to cover most of her now.

“Take that off,” he said, standing her between his legs. He wanted her naked.

A sheen of sweat covered her and she didn’t hesitate to take the thing off. When she stood naked though, she did move her hand to cover her sex.

Sawyer shook his head. “No, you don’t get to cover yourself. Hands at the back of your head and take your legs wider.”

She obeyed and when she spread her legs just a few inches farther, the pink lips of her pussy parted, the moisture there unmistakable. When he turned his face up to hers, she blushed a deep red and he knew she was trying to hide her arousal from him.

“Your pussy is wet, Rebecca,” he said.

She was unable to answer; instead she dropped her gaze to the floor.

“Look at me.”

She did, but it took her a moment. When she did, he let his gaze travel over her breasts, her belly, and back down to her sex, then returned them to hers. “You did well,” he said.

Her expression changed a little, that innocence, that desire to please, back again.

“Go stand in the corner now, thirty minutes, then you’ll take the ten you’ve got coming with the belt. While you’re standing there, I want you to think about why you’re going to bend over for me and offer your bottom for punishment, why I’m going to take my belt to your bottom and why you’re going to count out each one and then thank me, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, after she cleared her throat.

He nodded for her to go ahead and he remained seated, watching her, watching her place herself in the corner, watching her touch her nose to the wall. “When you’re sent to the corner after punishment, I want you to lean your forehead against the wall, walk back a few paces and stick your bottom out. I want your spanked bottom pushed out and on display.”

She made a sound but slowly, she leaned forward and walked back a few steps, keeping her legs at shoulder width, her back hollowed out, the lips of her pussy just showing between her slightly parted cheeks. Sawyer stood, adjusted his cock and walked out, leaving the door open because if he spent one more second in there, he’d take hold of her hips and fuck her wet, hot pussy right then and the punishment would be lost on her.

* * *

Rebecca shifted her hips, very aware of the moisture that trickled down the center of her thigh. Her bottom hurt, it stung and felt hotter than the rest of her, but being made to stand in the corner now, her bottom pushed out, on display even if he was no longer in the room, aroused her. No, arousal was too genteel a word. It made her wet, made her want to be fucked.

She swallowed, mentally chastising herself. This was not the point of punishment, certainly, but she had felt Sawyer’s erection beneath her belly while he had been spanking her. She had felt his cock harden against her and a few times had even tried to rub her clit against his jeans, but shame had forced her to stop. But he had seen what the spanking had done to her. He said so himself, he had seen the moisture on her pussy.

She closed her eyes. What had he said? She should think of bending over for him for the next part of her punishment, the one she earned for throwing the book at him and her rude behavior while John was here.

Trouble was, every time she thought of it, she only grew more aroused.

* * *

She was holding her spread, bent position when he returned half an hour later. How he had managed to stay out of the room for that long he had no idea, but he had done it. And now, his cock grew just as hard as it had been half an hour ago.

Best to get this over with.

“Ok, time for the belt,” he said.

She jumped as if she hadn’t realized he was there. She turned just as he pulled the belt from its loops and sucked in a breath. He kept his eyes on hers as he doubled it over and tested it against his thigh.

“Bend over the chair, hands flat on the seat,” he said.

She moved without a word and took up her position.

“Legs wider, I want to see that pussy.”

She made a sound and he moved behind her as she spread her legs to just past shoulder width. Her pussy was slick and her thighs looked sticky. He smiled, lining up the belt against her ass.

“Ten. You’ll count each one and thank me for your punishment, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me why you’re being punished.”

“Because I threw the book at you and because my behavior was rude when John was here.”

“Good girl. Keep your bottom lifted for every stroke.”

With that, he began. She shrieked at the first one but did as he said, counting and thanking him while doing a little dance before resuming her position. He didn’t wait for her, instead, he swung the belt again, the red stripes forming a mean pattern on her already red ass and thighs.

“I’m sorry!” she called out at the third one but still counted the stroke. “It’s enough, sir! I promise!”

“You’ll take ten, seven to go.”

She struggled through it, but he could tell she was forcing back her tears and more than once, he had to remind her to replace her hands on the seat. But she took her strokes and when it was over, she remained as she was, waiting for instruction. She reached back once to rub, managed to just touch her bottom, but quickly resumed her position when he tsk’d.

Sawyer strung his belt through the loops of his jeans, his eyes on her ass all along. He came to stand closer to her and she flinched when he placed his big hand over one cheek.

“It’s over, Rebecca,” he said, his fingers just coming toward the cleft at the center of her bottom, but resisting. Instead, he straightened her up and looked at her tear-streaked face. He hugged her to him, pressing her into his chest as she began to sob. She had held back during her spanking but now she was letting it go, letting the emotion out, letting her own frustration and, he hoped, her fear go. Sawyer simply lifted her and sat down on the bed, cradling her in his arms, keeping one hand at the back of her head.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know… I just… I’m scared, Sawyer.”

His heart broke for her and he wanted to promise her she would be ok, that he would take care of everything, and it was true. But the problem they faced was at least partially outside of his power.

“I’ll take care of you, Rebecca,” he said. “I’ll take care of you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

They stayed like that for a long time and when Rebecca fell asleep, he tucked her into the bed on her belly and closed the curtains. But when he went to leave the room, she stirred.

“Sawyer,” she said.

He turned to her.

“Don’t leave me alone.”

He looked at her then, her tiny form under the blanket, her big eyes looking at him. He went to her and climbed into the bed to cradle her in his arms. He just held her like that until she slept.

Chapter Seven