Two Toys

It bares her small breasts to me. Very nicely shaped breasts, too. I happen to know that she's a 34-A. Her breasts rise off her chest with gently curving, fully rounded undersides that have no crease at all where they meet her chest. At the front, right where her nipples are, the gentle rounding takes on a slight straightness as her mound flows back to rejoin her chest. Her mounds are full and firm. They're also slightly wide on her chest, almost to her sides, leaving a little strip of flat chest between the small mounds. Those breasts are topped with a pair of proportional nipples, maybe as wide as a pencil eraser or a little wider. Nipples that are the same shade of light pink as her lips are. Nipples that are now standing up hard, poking their well-rounded tips out to me. Nipples that are surrounded by fair-sized rings of color, the same shade around her nipples, that begins to fade near their edges. Nipples that stand straight out at me.

It leaves Veronica naked from the waist up, and fully dressed from the waist down. She fumbles to get the belt off her skirt. I just let my eyes roam over her flat chest, her pert mounds, and her taut stomach. She's not so lean that her ribs show, but I can make out the lines of her collar bones along her shoulders. And her leanness gives her a slightly stick-ish look. Not so straight that she doesn't have a girly curve at her waist. She does. It's just that her curve is as lean as everything else about her.

Once she has the narrow belt off, her skirt is next. She unzips it and lets it fall down her legs, her hand keeping it off the floor. It shows me that she's wearing the matching panties. They're pink, too. And just as lacy. Their waistband is cut slightly low on her hips, putting it even with the top of her bush. And they have inch-wide sides of all lace around her hips. And it shows me that she has a decently-matching pink garter belt on, along with dark tan stockings that come up to her mid-thighs. And it lets me see her narrow and very-gently-rounding hips. Above a pair of narrow, lean, and shapely legs. Long lean legs.

She gets to stall for a minute as she takes some more jewelry off, her watch, and a gold bracelet. But then it's time for her to keep stripping. Obediently she unhooks the stockings from her garter and pulls the garter off. It leaves her panties for next. When it's time for those to come down, I can see the blush creep onto her face. And her hands slow down again. But they come down and go on her neat pile.

It bares her bush to me. Which I'm certain is the part she was most dreading showing me. And not just because it leaves her very exposed to any interlopers. Because it's not trimmed up to my standards. Just as I knew it wouldn't be. A bush takes some precision to trim, and that takes some time. And time is a very precious commodity to a single mom. So, as I thought, she's taking a few short cuts and saving some time in her morning showers. Like not fully trimming that bush.

It's dense. That's allowed. Her furs is a medium-dark shade of brown. It's long, her hairs tangling together throughout the rough triangle of fur. Its lines are slightly irregular, and at the very edges of it, there are some shorter hairs. Hairs that look as if they're sometimes trimmed. Hairs that creep into the creases of her thighs, but not beyond. Hairs that destroy the straight lines of a triangle.

I can see her pussy, too. From the front, it looks like there's nothing to see, just pubes under a dense fur coat. She has short lips that are heavily furred. Lips that are moderately narrow and only puff downward slightly, giving her a noticeable, but very slight puffiness to her pussy mound. Lips that leave a wide gash between their edges, not even coming close to meeting. And through that gash, her wrinkly pink inner folds hang out, reaching down a good half-inch at their longest, and parting her fur around them. That's so visible from the front. And it's something that veronica is self-conscious about. Although there's no reason for her to be. It's a common enough look.

Now Veronica has to get a couple of rings off her hands. It leaves her standing in her stockings, and nothing but, as she does. Her fumbly hands hurry now. And then they hurry to slip those stockings down her lithe legs.

Veronica rises back up to stand and face me. "Miss Rodgers, I am completely naked for you, Ma'am." She obediently tells me, her voice full of nervousness that shows on her face. I'm sure she's praying that now that I've caught her, I'll let her put her clothes back on and deal with punishing her later. It's not like I can really punish her here, in her office, right?

Chapter 02: Spanked

I point the nude Veronica to sit in the other chair, the one in front of her desk that doesn't have her clothes piled in it. She reluctantly takes her seat. It might even be the first time she's sat in that chair, facing her desk instead of at her desk. She sits up properly, the way I've taught her I expect to see her. With her back straight, her legs fully crossed right over left, and her hands folded in her lap.

Then Veronica watches me with slight cautious eyes, wondering what I have in mind. She watches me slip around her desk and take the very plush chair that's hers. I take it as if it's mine. I kick back in it, too.

Then I take my time, hunting through my purse far longer than I need to. I get my phone out. I use it to take a quick picture of the naked Veronica sitting so primly in her office. She looks as if she's about to be interviewed for a job or something. Only nude. She cringes hard as she sees the flash and knows that I will forever have that picture. A picture that, in her mind, no one can ever see.

"Is that jungle you call a bush properly groomed, fucktoy?"

"No, Miss Rodgers, it's not," Veronica admits, her voice turning moderately sheepish, and still nervous.

"I did warn you that I was likely to pop up just anywhere, anytime, and if I did, I expected you to be properly groomed. It's not asking you to take care of that body, my body is too much for me to ask. I won't ask why you've been a bad bitch. I just don't care. You've been naughty. And, so obviously, you will be disciplined for your naughtiness." I sigh heavily.

"Yes, Miss Rodgers," Veronica quietly resigns herself to her fate.

"When is the last time you played with that pussy?"

"I played with my pussy last night, Ma'am."

"Did you allow it to cum?"

"Yes, Ma'am, I allowed my pussy to cum."

"Did you at least bother to wash the skank out of my pussy after you abused it, fucktoy?"

"Yes, Ma'am, I washed the skank out of my pussy this morning, Ma'am."

"Who's pussy?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Rodgers, I meant to say your pussy, Ma'am."

"Show me, fucktoy. Come over here and show me that pussy."

"Yes, Ma'am," Veronica answers reluctantly. Then she comes around her desk, turns her back to me, and spreads her feet wide. She leans all the way over, reaches around the outside of her thighs, and pulls her lips wide apart to fully display her pinkness to me. "Here is your pussy, Miss Rodgers." She tells me once her most intimate places are on display.

With those loose, wrinkly folds pulled taut and wide, it leaves her fully exposed. I can see the pea-sized tip of her clit poking its eager head up from the nest of soft, pink folds. I can see her narrow tunnel, its walls lying against each other and only the very rim of it gaping open for me. And I can see a moderate amount of creamy honey clinging to everything. More of that creamy honey steadily weeping from the rim of her tunnel, too.

"I thought you masturbated this pussy! Did you?"

"Yes, Ma'am, I masturbated this pussy, Ma'am."

I sigh out. "Then why is it so sloppy wet? Never mind, the answer is obvious. Because you're a skanky fuck toy!"

I leave Veronica standing there for another half minute or so, her pussy on full display as I pretend to consider what I'm going to do with her. As if I didn't have a good idea before I came. Finally, I tell her to stand back up and face me. As she's rising, I slide the chair back a few more inches, leaving plenty of space between it and the desk. Then I scoot my butt up a little to the edge of this plush leather chair.

I reach back into my oversized purse. I bring out a smallish paddle. It's wooden, maybe 12" long and 4" wide with a blade that's only about ¼" thick. But it's the biggest paddle I can get in this purse, so it's the one I brought. I didn't want to tote too big of a bag through those security checks. I could just see some security guard asking, loudly, why I needed a paddle for my meeting with Veronica. That would be fodder for the rumor mill for the next eon!

Veronica sees the paddle in my hand. As any sub would, she knows why I have a paddle in my hand. It's pretty obvious. It's for her bottom! Just seeing the paddle is plenty for Veronica to start getting very nervous. Not about the spanking, she's endured plenty of those. She knows me well enough to know that I will "set her bottom on fire" with my paddle. It will sting, and sting badly. And the sting will last for a few hours, during which sitting is going to be a very uncomfortable reminder of the need to behave.

What has Veronica so edgy is the thought of the paddling. The sound of the loud crack it will make as it swats the bare skin of her fully exposed bottom. She's thinking about her secretary sitting just beyond that wall and wonder how much she's going to hear. The slaps of the paddle? Maybe. Veronica's screeching squeals as she's spanked? Likely. How thick are those walls? Who else might be beyond them? And so much worse, who might barge in if they hear Veronica cry out? The scene they'll see! Veronica getting her spanking!

I just crook my finger towards Veronica, motioning for her to come over. And I grin wide. She's been spanked enough that she can guess what I'm going to do. Especially here in her office. I'm going to spank her in the most demeaning way possible. Just in case someone does barge in, they'll have to most humiliating view possible! Besides that, Veronica's firm little bottom looks so good turned over my knees like a naughty little girl!

I don't let Veronica stall, which she's fairly good and trying to do whenever she sees humiliation coming. As soon as she's close enough, I reach up and grab hold of her breast. I pinch all of her small mound firmly in my hand, holding it tight as I use it to pull her down to her knees at my side. Then I grab her hair and use that to pull her forward and across my slightly parted thighs.

Veronica squeals quietly, mostly from surprise at the suddenness of it, as I turn her over my knees. She squirms, not hard, not really fighting me, but more just fidgeting as she thinks about what's beginning. I ignore everything. I just put a hand firmly against Veronica's taut cheeks to steady her and nudge her forward just a little until my thigh is fully up in the bend of her waist. I already have my other thigh where I like it, along her lower chest with the small mounds of her bare breasts snug against the outside of my skirt. It has her tender stomach lying over my skirt. And Veronica has enough "girl-sense" to feel the fabric and notice that my suit is a higher-class than hers. Mine is true designer, not department store.

I don't waste any time. I lie the hard blade of the paddle firmly against Veronica's globes. She stills as it touches her. She knows that she's required to hold her bottom still, or close to still, for the entire spanking. On penalty of my starting her spanking over again until she does behave. As I've said, obedience isn't an option for my toys. They will do as I say. Eventually, if not immediately. But do it just the same. "This is for not grooming your skanky pussy like a lady, fucktoy," I tell her. I believe a sub should always know exactly why she's being punished. Ten strokes."

I feel a brief, but sharp, tremor sweep through Veronica's body as she hears her punishment.

Then I lift my paddle, bringing it up as high as my short arm will go. I bring it down with about half the power I could put behind the stroke. I have a very specific goal in mind. I don't want to bruise Veronica's bottom. I want it red, but I want a redness that will fade away in a couple of hours. I want a soreness that will take longer for its sting to ebb. I want Veronica to feel that sting, sharply, every time she sits for the rest of the day. But by morning, I want her bottom to feel no more than a faint reminder when she sits on it. She has far more coming than just a spanking for all of her... naughtiness.

I wonder just how thick these walls are. They looked pretty thick to me. I figure a defense contractor will have sturdy walls in its buildings, right? I know I couldn't hear anything through them when I was in the waiting room. And I'm sure now Veronica is praying they're nice and thick!

My paddle lands with a good crack, about as loud as the loudest clap of a pair of hands. The kind of clap you'd hear if... say Alabama was down by two, then kicked a 50-yard field goal with one second on the clock - against Auburn! A really loud clap! It lands square along the center of Veronica's taut cheeks. With her small bottom, that means it covers most of those cheeks, too. I'm watching her bottom as it lands, so I get to see the way it flattens out the curvy rounding of those tight buns, too.

Veronica tries not to cry out. She grits her teeth hard and manages to get through this stroke with just a mutely grunted "UH!" as it lands. But I know she feels it. I can feel her body suddenly tense up hard over my legs as it lands. She stays tensed up for a second, then the tension quickly ebbs from her body. As it does, she groans out a muted "OW!" under her fast breath.

"One spanking, Ma'am," Veronica obediently counts off her stroke. She knows my rule. She has three seconds after it lands to count it, or it doesn't count. "I'm sorry for disobeying you and not trimming my skanky pussy properly, Miss Rodgers. Thank you for spanking me to remind me that I have to behave for you, Ma'am." She sounds truly sorry, too!

I just lift my paddle off her globes, revealing a light, but bright, pink stripe across those hard, white cheeks. It's pink enough that I know Veronica's bottom already stings like she's sitting on a beehive or something.

I snap the paddle down again, landing an identical stroke. Veronica's cheeks are too small for me to have much room to vary where the strokes land. It's fine with me, I just adjust the count accordingly. And I love small, tight butts. But I'm sure Veronica wishes she had a bigger bottom right now, somewhere for this stroke to land other than atop her already stinging pink flesh.

Veronica stiffens immediately, so quickly that it feels almost like her body snapping over my legs. She grits her teeth hard, too. But this time she can't make herself mute her cry quite as well as last time. It's decently quiet, only a little louder than a talking voice. But it's full of pain and shock. A cry that sounds like "UH-OW!" followed by a few quick, and quieter, "OW!s" under breath. Then she counts off her second stroke.

And I give her the third stroke. It's easy for me to land it just the same. My arm won't tire too quickly. And definitely not nearly as quickly as Veronica's bottom wishes it would.

"EE-OW!" Veronica cries out, fairly loudly, but not nearly screeching loud. Not yet. She stiffens immediately, as fresh needles of pain lance into the slender muscles of her cheeks. Cheeks that are already on fire from the first two swats. She pants a single, and quieter "OW!" before counting off her third stroke. Then she pants a few more, and quieter "OH!s" that are pure groans.

The fourth stroke cuts off her chant of pained "Oh!s" under her breath. And it gets her cry up to the level of a screech. Or at least the level of a loud yelp. It also leaves her cheeks glowing an angry shade of red now. Oh, how those must be stinging!

Her chair is a little higher than I have mine set. It's just high enough that it has her knees off the floor, so only her feet have anything to perch on. And her hands, she has those braced against the floor, her fingers spread wide. Her legs stiffen along with the rest of her body, tense enough that it very slightly lifts her waist off my thigh for an instant. Then, as she starts to relax and count her stroke, it leaves her legs starting to squirm, too!

The fifth stroke brings tears to her eyes, along with a decent screeching yelp from her lips. It's loud enough of a cry that, were her brain thinking of anything beyond the pain in her bottom, she'd be trembling as she thought about her secretary hearing it. It's enough that she would with cheap walls... weren't these built by the lowest bidder?

It also gets her hips rocking. Veronica tends to do that when it really hurts. Her left side, the side at my waist, lifts up a little, turning her bottom slightly away from me. Of course, by then it's too late. The swat has already landed. As her hips lie back on my thigh, they're not exactly still. She squirms, her waist grinding against my thigh, as she groans her chorus of muted "OW!s" And sobs lightly. I know that now Veronica is only struggling not to cry. She just hates for me, or anyone, to see her cry. It's humiliating for her. I'll make sure she knows I see it later.

She gets the sixth stroke. It turns her (formerly) milky-white globes to a bright fire-engine red. But so far I don't see any bruising on them, just the painful redness. I'm trying not to bruise them. That will show for days. I just want her cheeks to sting. And by now, judging by the yelps and the way she's fidgeting against my leg, her cheeks are stinging her like a zillion needles stabbing into them.

I give her the seventh stroke. She screeches. She squirms. Her left cheek rises maybe two inches off my thigh as she tenses up. When she counts the stroke off, I can hear the sobbing cry in her voice. It tells me that she's crying hard enough that her face is going to be teary wet when she finally gets off my knees. And her globes glow a little brighter shade of red! They're nowhere near loose enough to jiggle, though, despite the hard fidgeting squirm of her hips.

The eight-stroke pushes her towards her limit. Not the limit of what she can bear, but the more important (to her) limit of what she can bear and still show some semblance of pride. The limit I'm hoping to push her just slightly beyond. I love it when she knows that she's lost that last shred of composure! I love it when she forgets she's some almost-important person and knows she's acting like the submissive, and naughty, fucktoy that she is. Shameless before her mistress.

The ninth stroke has her on the edge of composure. It has her bottom lifting up, squirming hard atop my thigh. It has her head thrashing from side to side. It gets a good yelp from her. And it has her crying hard between. And now, when she counts off her stroke, her voice sounds truly sorry. Not sorry that I caught her, but sorry that she disappointed me. Sorry that she was disobedient. And definitely sorry that I am seeing her cry like a baby as she's spanked like a naughty toddler.

I land the final stroke. It pushes her over the edge. As she screeches her yelp, there isn't a part of her body that's not squirming around hard, trying to cope with sharp stinging in those cute cheeks. And she's crying like a baby. I can hear it in her voice as she counts the last stroke. She makes it in the three seconds allowed, but not by too many nanoseconds. It takes her even longer to still herself. And she never fully stills. Her hands fidget, her fingers gripping against the floor. Her feet fidget, rising up as her knees bend to protect her bottom from another stroke. She soon gets her feet back on the floor, though. Quick enough that I won't punish her for them being in front of her cheeks. That's interfering with her punishment, and that's something I so do not allow.