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My reflexive response is to try to get up. Even though there is no way to do that, and I already know that, there is some urge to push, to test, to see what he will do to keep me in place.

“Stay,” he orders, one word, firm.

“Please don’t spank me, Mr. Ornix. I’m sorry. I really am.”

“You do sound sorry, but that is likely because this is the first time you have ever been taken to task in a manner that immediately provides a hot and inescapable consequence. You’re going to take this spanking, and many others, young lady. You are going to actually feel the consequences of your actions.”

With that, he smooths his hand over my skirt and flips it up, revealing my thong-clad ass.

A hard slap follows, too firm and too intense for me to argue or complain or do anything other than gasp. Three more land in quick succession, and instantly my ass is on fire.

I whimper helplessly, taking the punishment in a sort of stunned shock. I have never experienced anything like this before. I never got spanked when I was a kid; my parents were way too busy to do anything like that, and I never got into the sort of trouble they would notice.

Mr. Ornix has already noticed me more in the course of a few hours than most people seem to do in lifetimes.

“Are you feeling this, Melissa?”

“Yes,” I squeak.

“Good,” he says, his voice sounding deeper and huskier than before. If I didn’t know better, I would say he was aroused right now. There is heat rushing through my system, making my flush face, making my nipples tingle, and making my entire body perform a slow squirm that causes my hips to gyrate. There’s something deeply intimate about this, an intense sting that is making my clit feel like it is humming with new life.

He spanks me again, and again.

“How does it feel to be taught a lesson?” he asks. “Do you appreciate the effort I am taking to correct you?”

“Yes,” I gasp breathlessly. I don’t know if that is entirely true, but I know it is what he wants to hear, and I want him to be pleased with me. I wonder what it would feel like to hear praise in that rich, deep voice of his, and see approval in his eyes.

“Good, because I intend to keep doing this for you for a very long time. You have so much potential. So much sweetness, light, and magic.”

“Magic?” I’ve never been called magic before, but there’s a reverence in his voice when he says that word.

“Yes, Melissa. It’s in you. Surely you’ve noticed how bright you are, how people are drawn to you, and how you are drawn to trouble?”

He smacks me again to emphasize the question, but he doesn’t feel as stern as he did before. There’s a softness to the gravel in his tone, and he runs a hand briefly over my stinging rear as he asks.

“I know I’m trouble, sir,” I whimper. “But I don’t really mean to be.”

“Of course not. You end up in it no matter what you do. It seems like fun, and opportunity, doesn’t it, a break from the tedium of everyday human life that seems to occupy others, but never quite satisfies you.”

I arch my hips. The movement isn’t intentional so much as it is instinctive. I want to feel the heat of his hand, the soothing roughness of it against my skin.

I am rewarded when his hand slides straight back down over my cheeks, the tips of his fingers following the curve of my cleft until they make light but deliberate contact with the slit of my sex.

“Oh, my god!” I gasp as I feel him touch me there with complete assurance, as if that part of me were not only made for him, but belonged to him.

“I own your debt,” he says. “And that means I own you.”

“I don’t think that’s what the law says.”

“That is exactly what the true law states,” he replies, spanking me again, even as the tingling sensation of being touched in such an intimate way continues to zip through my lower belly.

The spanking goes on, but I have stopped worrying about the slaps and started focusing on the possibility that he will touch me there again. I ache for his fingers to slide back to my pussy. That brief moment of transgressive pleasure has become the main focus of my consciousness, something I need more than anything in the world.

“You keep squirming and offering yourself,” he observes as he rubs my pussy lightly, petting me like a temperamental little animal. “I think you like this.”

My face flushes even more intensely as I realize that there is absolutely nothing being hidden from him. He’s noticed my desire, he’s stoked my arousal, and now he is going to take full and total advantage of me.

“The spanking does not count for punishment purposes if you are mated and bred,” he says. “Do you wish to be bred?”