Baring Mia

By: Kallista Dane

All thought was driven out of her head when she heard another crack, felt another lick of flame. Mia clenched her teeth, determined not to give him the satisfaction of hearing her cry out again, but hot tears welled up in her eyes.

He spanked her methodically, peppering every inch of her bottom as she struggled to stay in place. Before long, everything blurred together. She lost count of the strokes. Her entire being focused on the burning pain, and she had to force herself to breathe between whacks.

When he finally stopped, tears were pouring down her face. With her hands cuffed behind her back, she couldn’t even wipe them away. She felt his hand between her thighs and froze.

“Spread your legs.”

She was trying so hard to keep from sobbing out loud, his words barely registered. He whacked her again with the paddle, and she let out a wail.

“I said spread your legs. Now.”

Reluctantly, she moved her legs apart a little. His fingers probed her pussy then moved up to stroke her clit. He built a steady rhythm, first teasing her pussy then rubbing slow circles over her tiny nub.

To Mia’s shock, the burning pain morphed into a spicy heat as endorphins kicked in. He knelt behind her, spreading the cheeks of her ass. His hot tongue licked down her crack, and she shuddered with embarrassment. When it dipped into her pussy, she whimpered, rocking her hips back. His fingers kept up the sweet assault on her clit until it swelled and throbbed.

Mia moaned, a raw, hungry sound. He ramped up the pressure, and she quivered. She needed to come, right then, with a desperation she’d never felt before.

She opened her mouth to tell him. But before she got the words out, she heard the unmistakable sound of Velcro ripping apart, and her hands were free.

“Stay in this position until I leave the room. By the way, you are not allowed to touch yourself without my permission. Not now or at any time while you are under my roof. If you do, you’ll be punished again – and it won’t end as pleasantly as it did this time. After I leave you can get back into your own clothes. Someone will be here shortly to escort you to my office where you’ll sign your contract…that is, if you still want to proceed with our agreement.”

She felt him move away, heard the door to the suite close softly behind him.

Mia sank to her knees, shaking, and buried her face in her hands.

Chapter Two

Three days earlier

Mia stared at the papers in her hand, sick with dread. It was worse than she’d thought.

She sank into a chair on the balcony and stared, unseeing, at the Miami skyline. City lights beckoned with the promise of excitement, while the distant whisper of waves breaking on the sand added the lure of endless adventures waiting beyond the shore. But she was oblivious to it all.

Warm and thick, the night air surrounded her like a blanket. Despite the heat, Mia shivered. The hum of traffic, normally white noise in the background, set her teeth on edge.

Think. There must be a way out.

She was a planner, facing each day with at least a mental to-do list, if not a detailed written one. But on tomorrow’s list, she could only envision one entry. Go to jail.

Alejandro was gone, fled to Colombia. It was to be a short vacation, an opportunity to visit his relatives back home. But as the phone calls came in, the accountants and attorneys of worried investors sniffing around, Mia became suspicious. As the comptroller of International Technology Consultants, she was in charge of the corporation’s financial affairs. Theoretically. In reality, Alejandro always kept much of the decision-making close to his vest. He used his family’s huge stake in the corporation as a reason to closely oversee her management of the finances, often making decisions and taking action without telling her until later.

Now the charming son of a bitch had packed up and left. Since yesterday, his cell phone was no longer in service, and the number she’d been given for emergency contact turned out to be bogus. She’d driven out to Fisher Island right after work, used the passcode he’d given her to get inside the electronic gate of his waterfront mansion. The rented furniture was still there, but his enormous wardrobe of clothes, his flashy jewelry, even his guitar collection was gone.

And so was the money. This morning she’d discovered the company’s trust account had a zero balance.

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