No Fighting

 They led her, one on each side, down the dock. It was humiliating, but it was nothing compared to what would come next. She’d been caught trying to pick a fight again and he was not going to be happy. She could feel him watching her, those piercing eyes boring into the top of her skull. She kept her head down all the way there, even when they stopped and she felt him land in front of her, having lept off his perch.

 “What now?” he asked her guards.

 “Your girl’s picking fights again. Two this time, tried to get one of them to be a lookout.”

 He flipped a quarter to each of them. “Tell them thank you, and she’ll be around to apologize later.”

 They nodded and left her there.

 “Look at me Krys.” His voice was hard as stone.

 She lifted her eyes to his, and could not help but take a step back at the anger shining there.

 “What do you think you’re doing? You know they aren’t allowed to fight you.”

 She dropped her eyes, and he slapped her, just hard enough to bring her attention back to him, and loosen her tongue.

 “They think I’m weak, sir. They don’t respect me. I’m just your girl, not one of them.”

 “And this is how you think to earn their respect? By getting them in trouble with me? By tempting them to disobey direct orders? Did you ever think that it’s only making them think less of you? Keeping you apart from them?”

 She stared at him, he was right, of course he was.

 “You want to fight someone, you fight me.” He stepped in close, so that they were nose to nose. “Do you want to fight with me?”

 “No, sir.”

 “Then, knock it off, because next time, you won’t have a choice.”

 “Yes, sir.”

 He pointed to a nearby crate that was about waist high, and she went over to it, her face flushing with embarrassment. She bent over, putting her palms on the top of the crate and spreading her feet to brace herself. He joined her, putting his left hand on the small of her back and hefting his walking stick in the other.

 Crack.

 “One.”

 Crack.

 “Two.”

 Crack.

 “Three.”

 By five, there were tears, by ten she could barely get the numbers out, by fifteen she was wet, and by twenty she was fighting back moans. He grabbed her hair and pulled her back upright, then marched her away, his grip on her hair keeping her fully aroused.

 “You will apologize to those two, when we’re done.” he whispered in her ear.

 “Yes, sir.”

 He led her off to the warehouse loft where they always went after he punished her publicly, or to punish her privately. Today had required a public scene, but it didn’t always. When they arrived he released her.

 “Pants off, hands and knees.” He said to her, voice softer now, hungry.

 “Yes, sir.” She stripped off her pants and got down on all fours.

 He knelt down beside her, stroking her bruised ass.

 “Why do you do these things? You know I hate to embarrass you like that.”

 “I’m sorry, sir.” she shivered at his gentle strokes.

 “Promise me you won’t do that again?”

 “Yes, sir, I promise.”

 “Good, girl.” He smacked her bare ass with his hand. “Very good, girl.” He smacked her ass again.

 “Thank you, sir.” she gasped.

 He spanked her bare, bruised ass, while she moaned. Bringing them both back to full arousal after the scolding. Squeezing and spanking her tender ass, while she arched and and groaned. He dipped his fingers lower, finding her dripping wet.

 “Do you want me?” he breathed

 “Yes, sir, oh yes, sir.”

 “Show me.” he said, dropping his pants and turning her to face him.

 She took him in her mouth, sucking hungrily while he continued to smack her ass. He shoved himself deeper into her mouth, and she accepted him eagerly. His hand in her hair guiding her as he wished. Then he pulled her away and spun her around again, sliding in to fuck her.

 “Oh, thank you sir.” she groaned.

 “Such a good girl.” he moaned as they fell together on the floor.