Thirteen Hours (21 page)

Translation:
she needs a minute alone to prepare.
Laurel left her with a teasing smile. “Don’t be long.”

“I promise.”

Laurel maintained her cool until she was three steps inside of her room. Then, door safely closed behind her, she took a running leap and flounced onto her bed.
Holy shit.

She breathed in and out and put the palm of her hand over her thumping heart. This was a fantasy she’d had for years but had never fully acted out with her past lovers. She’d come closest with Lindsey, but the trust hadn’t been there between them and so she was never really able to let go. Dana made her feel utterly safe and loved, and therefore capable of letting her dark side out to play. She hoped Dana had the same trust in her.

Laurel stood and crossed to her dresser, wondering what she should wear. She opened her underwear drawer, scrutinizing her choices. She had that little lacy black thing that Dana loved so much.

Or maybe something a little more innocent…the white babydoll? She wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to project: naughty girl or dirty slut.

Each had its appeal.

Laurel unbuttoned her jeans and let them drop around her ankles.

She stepped out of them as she rooted through the drawer. Her T-shirt and bra followed. She stood in her pale blue cotton boyshorts, shivering when her nipples grew even harder in the cool apartment.

Fuck, I’m turned on.
She spared a moment to slide her hand in the front of her panties, planting her feet apart so she could glide a fingertip along damp, swollen folds. Exhaling through her nose, she braced one hand on the dresser and explored her aroused pussy with her fingers.

The bedroom door opened behind her. “What are you doing?”

Laurel jumped, startled at the sound of Dana’s voice. She turned and gave her lover a sheepish grin, her hand still deep in her panties. “I…”

Dana crossed the room in four long strides. She reached out to take Laurel’s wrist in an almost painful grip, pulling her hand from her underwear with a vicious tug. “Did I say you could start without me?”

Her voice was deadly serious, though deep affection still glimmered in her eyes. She moved her hand from Laurel’s wrist to her upper arm. Though she loosened her grasp slightly, it remained the harshest touch she had ever used with her lover.

Their game had begun.

Laurel sensed that Dana was waiting for some cue from her, and so she gave a tentative shake of the head. “I’m sorry.”

“You can’t keep your hand out of your panties for a minute, can you?”

Laurel shivered as Dana instinctively tapped deep into her desire to be made to feel naughty. “I just wanted to see—”

“What?” Dana interrupted. “You wanted to see if your pussy was wet enough for me?”

Sensing she wouldn’t be allowed to offer a real response anyway, Laurel merely nodded. She flexed her arm in Dana’s hold, testing her limits.

Dana leaned close and hissed into her ear. “That’s
my
pussy. And I didn’t give you permission to touch it.”

Wow. She was good. Eager to take one last opportunity to encourage Dana, Laurel whispered, “This is perfect.”

Dana’s eyes flashed with pleasure, then became shuttered and closed. She reverted fully into the fantasy, at once becoming the strict dominant that Laurel had always known lurked beneath the surface. “I want you to apologize, Laurel.”

Laurel bit her lip, acutely aware of how very naked she felt.

Dana’s tense arm brushed the side of her bare breast. “I’m sorry,” she said. Wholly obedient.

Dana shook her head. “Not good enough. I don’t believe it.”

“You don’t?” Laurel released an incredulous giggle. “What do I have to do to convince you?”

The iron grip on her upper arm tightened just a little, and Dana dragged her over to the bed. “You’ll have to take your punishment.”

She sat down, pulling Laurel across her lap. “And
then
tell me you’re sorry.”

Despite the fact that she had often fantasized about being in this position, Laurel’s face grew hot with mild embarrassment at being laid over Dana’s knee like a disobedient child. She felt herself getting wetter.

“You know you did something wrong, don’t you?” Dana murmured.

Laurel swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Smack.
The first blow came down hard on her right cheek, painful enough to make her gasp in shock.

Dana paused. She was really doing this. And from the way Laurel was nearly gasping for air, she was doing it well. Her entire body was tense and still, but she trembled inside. She had never been so aroused in her life, but the fear that she was going too far lingered. “Quicksilver?” she ventured.

Laurel released a shaky chuckle.
Are you kidding me?
She shook her head, resting the side of her face on the comforter. “No.”

Smack.

Laurel moaned at the second firm slap, wiggling on Dana’s thighs.

“I really wasn’t trying to start without you—”

“Did I ask you what you were really trying to do?”
Smack.

Laurel gave her a vigorous shake of the head. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, I know you’re sorry.” Dana rested her hand on Laurel’s right cheek. “I love these panties, baby, but they need to go. I want to see your ass getting nice and red for me.” With that, she hooked her fingertips in the waistband and yanked the cotton briefs down, exposing Laurel’s bare bottom.

Laurel felt wetness coating her inner thighs and wondered when Dana would discover just how hot she was making her. She was a natural at this.

Dana groaned as she tugged Laurel’s underwear down to her knees. “God, I love your ass.”

Laurel didn’t say anything to that, though her chest burned with pleasure.

Smack.

Laurel squirmed, trying to contend with the sensations and feelings building with each slap. They were painful enough to make her flesh tingle, and so exquisite they made her want to weep. This was exactly what she wanted.

“I told you to get ready for bed,” Dana said. Her tone was almost as hard as the spanking she continued to deliver, punctuating her words with measured smacks. “I did
not
tell you to come in here and touch yourself.”

Sweat beaded on Laurel’s forehead. She closed her eyes tight, riding out the pain. “I’m sorry, Dana,” she gasped.

“What?”

“I’m sorry!” Laurel repeated. “I’m sorry I was touching myself.”

Smack.
“Why?”

The question threw Laurel for a moment. She tried to remember what Dana had said when she caught her, hand in panties. “Because you didn’t tell me I could,” she whimpered.

“That’s right,” Dana said. “And whose pussy is it that you were fingering?”

“Yours,” Laurel said without hesitation.

“Tell me.”

Her buttocks throbbed, hot and sore. She could feel her pussy literally dripping, and again she wondered when Dana would discover her arousal.

“
Tell
me,” Dana repeated, applying her hand once more.

“My pussy belongs to you.”

Smack.

“It belongs to you!”

Dana stared down at the flesh quivering beneath her palm. As she drew her hand back, she saw its imprint, faintly white before hot color washed through. Both ass cheeks were hot. They had to be stinging.

She stopped slapping, and let her hand come to rest, rubbing soothing circles on the warm flesh. “Now tell me you’re sorry,” she drawled.

“And mean it.”

“I’m sorry,” Laurel mumbled. “I’m really sorry, Dana. I…wasn’t thinking.”

“Does your ass hurt?”

Laurel was honest. “Yes.”

“It looks like it hurts.” Dana’s fingers traced gentle patterns. “I really marked you.”

Laurel shivered at the quiet comment. She concentrated on the now gentle touch of Dana’s hand. “I’ve never been spanked so hard.”

“Maybe I was a little harsh with you,” Dana murmured. She continued to run her fingers back and forth over the punished flesh.

“My hand actually hurts.”

Laurel remained still. Her panties, caught around her thighs, prevented her from spreading her legs like she wanted. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

“Are you?”

Panting with rising excitement, Laurel shifted beneath Dana’s hand. Her lover was stroking a path from the cleft of her buttocks now, venturing closer to the juncture of her thighs on every up and down pass.

“I’m very sorry,” Laurel repeated. “And I mean it.”

“Do you really mean it?” Dana sounded calm and casual, a stark contrast from the cold disciplinarian she’d been channeling just minutes ago. “Or do you just want me to stop spanking you?”

Laurel stayed silent, for a moment uncertain how to answer. She couldn’t honestly say she wanted the spanking to end.

“Would you rather I be nice to you instead?” Dana slid her fingertips down along Laurel’s ass, pressing between her thighs.

Laurel froze when she felt Dana encounter the slick, abundant wetness coating her labia and spilling onto her inner thighs. Dana stopped speaking, though her fingers continued to explore her swollen pussy.

“What’s this?” Dana asked in a soft voice.

Laurel felt her face flood with inexplicable shame. She closed her eyes, overcome by just how amazing Dana was making this entire scenario. “I’m—”

“You like this,” Dana said. She rubbed the pads of her index and middle fingers along Laurel’s sensitive folds, then delved into her entrance with just the tip of one. “You’re all wet.”

When Laurel didn’t respond, Dana drew back and delivered a sharp smack to a particularly sore spot on her bottom. Laurel grunted in pain.

“Does it hurt?” Dana asked. “Or do you like it?”

Laurel bit her lip to keep herself from gasping when another hard slap landed on her bottom. “Both.”

“Is that the problem?” Dana murmured. “You like being bad?”

Laurel was certain of two things: her ass had never felt so incredibly tender, and she had never been as painfully desperate to be fucked as she was at that moment. She spread her thighs as far as her panties would allow.

“It makes you
wet
to get spanked like a naughty little girl?”

Laurel released a load moan, startling herself. The sound must have inflamed Dana, because it brought on a flurry of softer slaps that landed in one tender area on the fleshy part of her left cheek. They were almost too soft, teasing her with the promise of more.

“Answer me,” Dana demanded. “Is that why you’re wet?”

“Yes,” Laurel whimpered. Her voice sounded pleading and strange to her own ears. “I like it when you spank me.”

“I thought you told me it hurt.”

“It does.”

Dana delivered another slap, without a word. She was so turned on in that moment, she didn’t trust herself to speak.

Laurel flinched. Dana wasn’t relenting, and Laurel wasn’t anywhere near saying their safe word. “It hurts,” she whimpered.

“You like being hurt?”

Laurel exhaled slowly. “Yeah.”

“Such a dirty little slut,” Dana drawled.

Laurel opened her eyes wide, shocked at her body’s reaction to the throaty words. Her pussy felt swollen and heavy, and achingly empty.

She was sure that she was smearing her juices onto Dana’s blue jeans.

I love her for doing this with me.

Dana worked a finger between her buttocks, probing at her anus with the tip. “You’ve thought about this, haven’t you? Being my slut. Letting me hurt you.”

Laurel’s heart was thumping so hard, she wondered if Dana could feel the vibrations where the palm of her hand still rested on her throbbing backside. “Yes.”

Dana released a shaky sigh. She patted Laurel on the bottom, three times. Her hand was gentle on tingling flesh. “Stand up.”

Laurel stood, and immediately Dana grabbed her arm and pulled her down onto the bed, face first. She let out a tiny noise of surprise, then a groan when Dana forced her to turn over onto her back. The comforter felt rough and uncomfortable against her aching bottom. She watched Dana tug the boyshorts from her ankles.

“I’m not sure how to punish you.” Dana ran her palms along Laurel’s inner thighs, pushing them apart. She didn’t touch Laurel’s pussy, content simply to expose her. “Fuck,” she murmured, staring down at Laurel’s blatant arousal. “This doesn’t look like a punishment to me.”

Face hot, Laurel was eager to play along. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so wet.”

Dana reached down and covered Laurel’s sex with her hand, squeezing hard. Laurel gasped. Dana slapped at Laurel’s left foot, encouraging her to tilt her leg outward and plant it on the bed.

Now Laurel was truly exposed.

“So you like having your ass slapped?” Dana’s lips twitched, and for an instant she thought she was going to break into an amused grin.

Instead, she sobered herself. As much fun as she was having, and as excited as she was about being able to play this role, she knew she had to stay in character for Laurel.

“Yes,” Laurel said. She looked at Dana’s hand, wanting nothing more than to feel her fingers deep inside.

“What else makes you wet?” Dana sat between Laurel’s thighs, staring down at her open pussy. She swirled her finger through copious wetness. Lightening quick, she moved her hand to Laurel’s breast, plucking hard at her nipple. “Does that make you wet?”

Laurel closed her eyes and shook with pleasure.

Dana clamped the nipple harder, skirting on the edge of real pain.

Opening her eyes, Laurel groaned at the sight of her rock-hard nipple and the reddening flesh around the areola. Dana switched to the other breast, squeezing hard before taking the nipple in the punishing vise of her fingers.

“Dana,” Laurel gasped.

At once Dana stopped. She stared into Laurel’s eyes, afraid she’d gone too far. She was ready in that instant to back off and revert to the familiar sweet, hot caresses of the past few weeks. Laurel must have seen the question in her eyes. She shook her head and moved her hands up to grip the headboard, and Dana gave her what she wanted.

“Look at your pussy.” She leaned over Laurel. “You look like a slut who needs a good, hard fuck.”

Laurel shuddered beneath Dana’s weight. Warm breasts pressed against her own, trapping her against the bed. She let go of the headboard and placed the palms of her hands against Dana’s shoulders, between their bodies, and gave her an experimental push, hoping her ‘resistance’ wouldn’t be misinterpreted.