The Sandstone Affair (An Erotic Romance Novel) (13 page)

Mark starts spanking me harder, his hand
unrelenting, the warmness I felt before is turning into a consistent hot
presence. I put my head down and try to endure. I’m not going to end up like
some kicking screaming three-year-old no matter how much he thinks that should
happen. I steel myself and grit my teeth but the stinging hits just keep coming
and coming.
I discover I am moving back and forth across
his lap, subconsciously trying to dodge his hand even though it seems to hit
the target every time. This last volley is hard and sharp, the pain and heat
radiating from my behind throughout my whole body. My legs give in and start
kicking back and forth in the air. He pauses for a moment to let me catch my
breath while he rubs my sore behind in a soothing, arousing manner. Then, just
when I am ready for him to turn me over and take me, the spanking starts again.
“How long do we have to do this,” I sputter
between spanks. My gosh, why isn’t his hand ready to fall off? My bottom is
becoming an inferno and he’s still smacking it.
“Until you’re finished,” he replies, giving me
three good hard smacks on each cheek making me lurch forward. Amazingly, I
purposely slide myself back on his lap and lift my bottom for him to continue.
“Am I somewhere near done?” I ask over some
smacks, each word revealing the strain in my voice as I try not to let it show
this is getting to me. “I feel pretty roasted.”
“Oh trust me, Julia,” Mark says cordially then
lays another eight or ten wallops right on the soft spot. “When you’re done, you’ll
know. We’ll both know.”
He stops for a second and gives me more mercy
rubbing, his hand managing to wander into my cleft and feel the wetness there
as well. He leans over and picks up the wooden hair brush from the nightstand.
Taking some Kleenex out of the box, he places them near my hands.
“No, please,” I whimper. I already have a
painful stinging blaze back there and I can’t imagine the unforgiving flat
surface of that brush is going to make it feel better. He just pats my rump.
“This will speed things up a bit,” he says in
a soft kind voice. I want to sit in his lap and hug him. “The best I advice I
can give you is to feel it, and then when you’re ready, let it go. Let
everything go.”
I have no idea what that really means. He
starts with small little pops on each cheek and I can already feel the
difference. The swats increase, faster and harder. I give up trying to control
my bottom or legs; they are both swinging and moving. I grip the bedspread and
put my head down, feeling the first tears start to form. I can’t fight this
anymore; I let them roll down my cheek gasping as the fire burns.
This is so embarrassing. At my age, lying over
a man’s lap having my bare bottom spanked with a hairbrush like a small child.
But, this is par for the course. I’ve been embarrassed about a lot of my
behavior lately–screaming at Blake, lying to Mark, mistreating employees,
ignoring my dad to get more articles by deadline, pushing myself to the point
of exhaustion and pushing away anyone who couldn’t keep up with my pace. I’ve
been such a bitch to so many people for so long.
Mark somehow senses my introspection. No more
mercy rubs, he starts wailing away with that brush hitting the same spot over
and over. My bottom is bouncing off his lap and I hear a sound, a wail before I
realize it is coming out of me.
All the times I took people for granted. All
the ways I fought and pushed against my mom and then she was gone. She was gone
and I hadn’t even said goodbye. And now, what did I do with my dad? I put him
in the specialty center and threw as much money as I could at it to save his
life but I spent all my time at Lynx. It was all about me, my career, and my
stubborn selfish way.
My sobbing grows loud as gobs of snot and
tears run down my face. I don’t even bother with the Kleenex because the
boiling on my bottom has released a flood out of me. Again and again that brush
comes down and so many images start flooding my mind and I remember what Mark
said. I stop fighting them and let them go, grasping, screaming and convulsing
over his lap.
I think of my dad and all the times I put him
off, and Greg. Greg cheated on me and I was right to break off the engagement.
But I also treated him like a coin I could carry in my pocket. Everything in our
relationship rotated around me, around my career. We ate at places I wanted to
review. We saw movies of issues I wanted to write about. Me, me, me. And when
he didn’t please me or when he needed me to please him–I was unavailable. I
didn’t make him cheat but I sure as hell didn’t encourage him to stay.
As a writer, I have used the word
“breakthrough” my entire career, but I never had any idea what that word really
meant until this minute. I feel the pain, the grief, the regret and the pressure
building inside of me. Under this relentless barrage of feelings, I emotionally
explode over Mark’s lap. My sobs soak the bedspread. I let out a long howl that
carries all the sound of all my pain. I go on in this state of suspended
animation, crying and out of control, my body bouncing on the bed as I drive my
fists down over and over into the mattress.
I feel something lifting me, almost like an
angel, and the solidness of Mark’s arms as he puts my head on his chest and
lets me cry into him. I slowly regain my ability to breathe and speak normally.
“You’re not spanking me anymore?” I say,
unsure how he got from under me to holding me so quickly.
“I quit about ten minutes ago. This has all
been you.”
“I… I… ”
“Shhh,” he consoles me. He whispers softly,
“You did well, Julia. You did so well.”
I stay there in his arms for a while feeling
spent, empty. Then longing takes the place of the pain and I begin kissing him.
First I plant small kisses on his chest and then lean up to kiss him, my hand
reaching down to find his member and rub it through his pants.
“I need you,” I say urgently. Suddenly the
fire from my behind has moved between my legs and tripled.
“I’m here,” he says, still in his soothing,
consoling tone.
“I need you in me,” I growl seductively. He
smiles and begins to undo his pants, eventually standing up to remove them,
knowing every second without his touch was like torture. I confessed, “I feel
so empty.”
“You’ve just lost a lot of emotional weight,”
he advises as he gets back into bed. I turned over to embrace him and land on
my red, sore rear. He rubs my bottom and then turns me to the side. Kissing me
and running his cock up and down the inside of my lips, he can see me trying to
draw him into my body.
“Please,” I say again, kissing him deeply.
“There’s no way to do this that isn’t going to
feel like I’m spanking you again,” he tells me, trying to gently enter.
“Then spank me, spank me hard and fast and…
oh… just… do it!” I laugh, wrapping my arms around him. With that, he plunges
into me like a wild caged animal, his cock diving into my ready and needing
center. He pushes and surges in me, the spanking having prolonged his arousal
as well.
At first his thrusts are measured, a gentle
push in and quick pull out. But his lust overcomes his concern and soon his
balls are slapping against my red backside. I remember the secure feeling of
being over his lap, the thrusts repeating that experience only so much more
intense and internal. My body grips and pulls at him urging him on, wanting him
all the way in me.
His hand leaves my hip and travels between us,
finding my clit and massaging it in rhythm with his thrusts. Suddenly every
nerve ending in my body is unquenchable and overwhelmed at the same time. I
move my hips with him, pulling and slamming my body down on him and the tension
builds in my body. Soon I am ready and I dig my fingers into his back, letting
go again.
This time it is pure pleasure instead of
tears. I seem to be floating underneath him, awash in a sort of thick cloud of
bliss when I feel his body tighten and his load fill me inside. I attempt to
turn over, but as soon as the covers hit my bottom, I know it’s not the best
idea.
“Lay on your tummy.” He gets some lotion and
rubs it in, soothing and comforting me. He starts telling me about how I will
feel better tomorrow and the sting won’t last and some other thing but I don’t
really hear it. My muscles are loose, my body is well used and my soul feels
clean and free. For the first time in years, I fall into a deep, satisfying
sleep.

“Dad, I’m here,” I say as soon as my father’s
eyes open slightly. He smiles. It is like natural sunlight to my soul. I smile
back with the widest grin imaginable. “I’m having a great day.”
I see his mouth move and think he is saying,
“Good.” It’s hard to tell. They think the cancer may have spread to his brain
or affected his language center. I’m not sure. What I am sure about is that
since the night of my “release” session over Mark’s lap, I feel so much better
and Dad has been more awake and happy as well.
I’ve kept busy the past few days. Janice got
Kevin to agree to go to the office last night and work on setting up the
reverse connection that will let us get the records from Blake, Mark has been
working on the rejoinder and getting things in order, and I’ve been collecting
a timeline and all the evidence I have about the scope of events and payments
at Lynx. I can’t wait for Janice to call tonight and tell me what she
discovered and what evidence she was able to get today.
“Mark’s doing great, Dad,” I tell him as his
eyes begin to close again. I shift and feel just a slight twinge on my bottom,
the memory of my safety and vulnerability over his lap filling me with peace
once more. “I’m falling for him in a major way. It could be something serious
someday. So don’t worry about me anymore. I’m going to be okay.”
“I love you,” he mouths to me. It’s the one
phrase that’s easy to tell.
“I love you too, Daddy,” I say back loudly. When
he falls asleep, I head home and start making myself a salad. I keep checking
my phone to see if it’s on because Janice should have called by now. In fact,
they were supposed to check out the system last night–so an update is really
overdue. I haven’t heard much from Mark either. I begin to pace. I know my need
to be in control has to change, but right now the silence is killing me.
I give up and call Janice. She answers on the
first ring.
“I was just about to call you,” she says
without bothering to say hello.
“I’m going crazy! What’s the hold-up?”
“I just needed to sit down for a minute and
have a drink. Calling you was next on my list.”
“Drink? List? What’s going on? What did Kevin
find out?”
“Well,” Janice begins. I feel the hesitation
in her voice. Something’s wrong.
“If you tell me ‘there’s good news and bad
news,’ I’m going to jump off a bridge!” I’m so tired of everyone tiptoeing
around things.
“Okay, I won’t. There’s only bad news.”
“What?”
“Kevin spent hours on the system last night.
He says there’s no way to set up a reverse. Apparently the network has a
tripwire automatic responder code in the registry.”
“I don’t speak geek.”
“Me neither.” She laughs. “I’m reading this
from a post-it note. He had to write it down. Anyway, what it means is that if
we make any changes to the network, a signal goes straight to Blake. Kevin was
able to print-screen the software and registry codes that prove Blake has our
system feeding into his, but that was all Kevin could do.”
“So, we can’t get Blake’s transaction records?
That is bad news.”
“It gets worse.”
“How could it possibly get worse?” I’m not
sure I really want to know the answer, but I have to get a clear picture of
what’s happening with Lynx.
“Today was our last day at Lynx.”
My heart sinks to my stomach which is turning
into a huge knot. Did we mistake the deadline? Is it done? My life’s investment
is gone? This can’t be happening. I’ve been through so much and worked so hard.
“What do you mean it’s your last day? I still
have a week left to file a rejoinder. Mark is working his ass off to get the legal
documents ready!”
“Blake called a meeting for ten minutes to
five tonight. Valerie James was there as well. I gave her the T-list but I
don’t think she bought it. She took one look at it, shrugged and put it in her
folder.”
“Get back to the meeting, what happened?” Jeez,
how I hate being so separated from the action.
“So Blake the Snake and Valerie James are
standing there and they call us together and say they are proud to announce the
future of Lynx. They say because of our lease on the building, the office is
staying where it is, and there will be a new section editor moving into your
office.”
“Section editor? Why would Lynx need a section
editor unless…” I start to realize what’s going to happen to my baby. “Oh god,
Janice.”
“Yep, starting in two weeks Lynx is going to
be renamed ‘The Source’ and be the investigative section of Ladies World. She
wants to print one big and several small articles a month with Lynx’s
‘signature style’. She gave everyone a big speech about welcoming us to the staff
of Ladies World’s newest and most exciting venture.”
“The Source? Where did she get that? The back
of a bar napkin? We’ve got to stop this.”
“Wait, it’s worse. Blake says they’re going to
publicly reveal the change next week after Lynx is legally a part of Ladies
World, but as a reward for our hard work and to help them make the transition,
everyone at the magazine–the custodian, reporters, interns, and me–are being
give two weeks off with pay. We were told that when we left tonight, doors will
be closed, locks will be changed, and a whole new computer system, logo and
everything will be put in.”
“He’s shutting the place down, and pushing
everyone out. He doesn’t want to risk anyone getting information in or out
until after my time to file is over.”
“Seems that way, Julia. I’m sorry. I’m not ‘on
the inside’ anymore. There is no inside. But, if you or Mark find a way, I can
help. Let me know. I talked to the staff. Everyone agreed to wait until it’s
really true and the time to file is over, and then most plan to quit.”
“I gotta go,” I say, my voice trembling as the
first tears start to form. I hang up without even a goodbye. Janice will
understand. I sit down on the couch and stare at the stacks of documents from
the lawyer. It’s over. It’s really over. My job. My pride. My Lynx. It’s all
gone.
I pick up my keys in a haze and head to the
car. Mark needs to know what’s happened, and I need to be to be held by Mark.