Prologue
Prologue
As soon as Meion stepped into her apartment and before she could even set her briefcase down, his voice carried from across the room to where she stood.
“What are you wearing?” he asked with sincere dominance and a voice so deep that the melodiousness of it made her quiver inside and her heart skips a few beats. All she could see was his broad shoulders and the back of his head as he sat still on the cream-colored leather sofa, facing the panoramic view of the city 22 stories below.
“What?” she asked, somewhat surprised, and startled.
“Are you wearing the undergarments I told you to wear today?”
“I…um…” she stammered.
“Come over here,” he demanded smoothly.
“Well, let me—”
“Come here now, Meion!” he quickly interrupted without moving from his seat or turning to look in her direction.
She took a step toward the dining table and placed her briefcase and purse on the dining chair.
“I don’t recall telling you to do anything other than to come here. You’ll be punished for setting your bags down.”
“May I at least take—?”
“No, you may not,” he interrupted. “And you may not speak another word until I’m done with you.” The frustration grew more intense in his tone, causing her to grow weak in the knees. She made her way to the sofa, and before she even thought of taking a seat beside him, he told her to stand in front of him.
“Are you wearing the undergarments I told you to wear today?”
“I’m not sure. I can’t remember what you told me.”
“Reveal to me what you have on, but be sure that if it isn’t correct, you will be punished.”
“Punished how?” she asked, unbuttoning her overcoat.
“Let everything fall to the floor, and not another word,” he demanded as he admired her smooth stocking legs beautifully displayed by black stilettos. He patiently waited and watched her every movement as she undressed. He felt himself getting an erection as he looked at her from head to toe. He noticed her thighs trembling beneath her skirt and would have liked to believe that it was from fear of the unknown punishment rather than from the cold outside she left behind just moments ago.
Her suit jacket slid off her arms with the sound of silk to skin as the inner jacket brushed her calves on the way down to her overcoat and around her feet.
“Trust me, you will enjoy your punishment.”
“But what if I’m wearing what you asked for?”
“You will still be punished for not doing as you were told when you came in.”
Remembering the briefcase, she glanced over at it as a reminder.
“I’m sorry, I was—”
“No apologies. You deserve this, in more ways than one, you deserve it,” he said as he paced around her. “Slip? Why are you wearing a slip?”
“Well, it’s pretty cold outside, babe.”
“Did I tell you to wear a slip today?”
“No.” Her response was shaky from the agitation in his tone.
“Take it off, Meion!” he demanded. “You better be wearing underneath that slip what I told you to put on today,” he said, as he stood up in front of her, gently kissing her lips. He slowly paced himself around her again, and by the time she got the slip down past her hips and before she could lift her foot to step out of it, a crack sounded throughout the apartment and soon came the sting of the blow to her buttocks from the impact of his hand. He quickly covered her mouth before she could let out a sound. Standing behind her with one arm around her waist and this other hand covering her mouth, he kissed from her shoulder up to her neck and whispered in her ear.
“Very good, baby girl. You’ve got it on.”
She was wearing a black garter belt, a black bra that exposed her nipples, and no panties.
“It’s good to know that you are starting to take me more serious now,” he whispered in her ear. “You’ll be rewarded for that, but now, you have to pay for not listening when you came in.”
She felt his erection against her buttocks as he held her closer. Some part of her welcomed what he thought she deserved as punishment, and she wanted it more than she could understand why.
From behind the throw pillow on the sofa, he pulled out a satin scarf and tied her hands together behind her head. He spread her legs shoulder length apart.
“Babe, what are you—?”
“Speak another word, and I will keep you silent the rest of the day,” he said, cupping his hand over her moist, exposed pussy, causing her to gasp out from neglected passion. With his middle finger just slightly touching her clitoris, he used his other hand to vigorously spank her bottom. No part of her wanted it to end.
All the while he spanked her buttocks, he kissed her neck and whispered in her ear.
“That’s my girl! I can feel your enjoyment,” he passionately whispered in her ear, referring to her swelling, throbbing clitoris against his finger. He began to slow the rhythm of the spanking by caressing her buttocks in between each slap.
“Please…” she cried out.
“Shh, silenced for the rest of the day,” he reminded. “You’re doing well. Are you ready to cum?”
She could only nod her head in favor of the question, but she wanted him inside her and not having him that way must have been the real punishment. Without removing his cupped hand and still attending to her pulsating clitoris, he continued to use his free hand to spank her buttocks until he could see and feel that she was on the verge of ecstasy. Just at her point of satisfaction, he viciously spanked her. She cried out in ecstasy.
Startled by the sound of the alarm clock, Meion jumps out of her sleep in a cold sweat, still moaning from the awkward dream with her hand cupped over her tantalized moist muffin. She almost wants to laugh at herself but is more sexually frustrated than humored. She lays her head back down on the pillow and looks over at the alarm clock as flashes of her dream echo in her mind. There may not have been much shame in the dream, but here in reality, there is a lot to be ashamed of.
On that note, Meion gets out of bed and draws open the blinds to the view of the snowy city 22 stories below, and dreads that she has to go out in that cold on Christmas Eve while everyone else in the world is still snuggled in their warm beds. Little kids are sitting around their Christmas trees, anticipating the next day. She decides working in the office will be more productive than having the temptation of going back to bed or watching television.
Even as she does her morning ritual before work, she is still drowned in the same thoughts and fantasy of her dream. Getting ready for work and even what she chooses to wear is a complete blur. With at least a half-hour to spare before leaving, she sits on the window seat of the living room and gazes over the snow-covered, sleeping city while her mind goes from what she must do today to that secret erotic desire. The dream begins to replay in her mind as if it’s happening. She wants to finish it, just to see how it would have ended.
“Oh my god, what’s wrong with me?” she blurts out as the alarm on her wristwatch sounds.
“Damn! I should’ve used that time to warm up the car. Oh well, spilled milk.” She gathers her briefcase and coat on her way out the door.
