Page 5 of Take Her

I had dragged women through rooms here kicking and screaming before—consensually, of course, with all the rules carefully hashed out and written down, practically notarized—but this wouldn’t be like that.

No, because somewhere along the line I’d apparently decided to be a good person...well, maybe not good, but I’d decided to give her what she wanted for the evening. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly when it’d happened, but no one was more surprised about it than me.

I mounted the dais the throne sat on and took my seat, careful to arrange myself—and the hard on I was sporting—for maximum comfort before crossing my legs. I could’ve spanked her lying flat across my lap, but I liked the idea of her being a little topsy-turvy, and having to brace herself against her own abuse by placing her hands on the carpeted floor. She made to kneel down, and I tapped my upper thigh meaningfully when she paused.

“It’s just that,” she said, trying to move and wincing, as all the lines on her catsuit became uncomfortably tight, and she tugged at her sleeves again.

I resisted the urge to chuckle. “If your suit tears, you’ll be giving the couple over there the best show of the evening,” I said, tilting my head their direction. “But if it does, I swear I’ll give you my coat to take home, to cover yourself with.” I was taller than she was, it would hang down to her mid-thigh.

I had no business breaking up a bespoke Fioravanti suit, but I would if I had to.

If I didn’t, my dick might never forgive me.

“Okay.” She nodded and ungracefully climbed over me, like she was crawling into a tunnel. Her hands reached the ground and she shimmied, wriggling until my thigh caught her beneath her hips, and my cock was pleasantly trapped between my stomach and her ribcage.

“Remember your safe word,” I reminded her. “And tap my leg twice if you can’t speak.”

“Okay,” she said again, looking innocently over her shoulder at me, one side of her face framed by her hair. “Go slow?” she asked—her first true hesitancy of the night.

I slowly put one hand down over her right ass cheek, the one furthest away from me, to palm it while I could see her expression.

“I would never hurt my little girl,” I promised, as her face went even more flush than it had been prior from being so close to the ground. And then I added “Much” and raised my hand.

2

RHAIM

Seven spanks in, and there was a strong chance I was going to hell.

I’d always assumed that if there was one, I was, because where the hell else—pun intended—would have me?

But the longer this went on—and I wanted it to last a very, very long time, far longer than I’d asked the others in line behind me for permission—the more certain I became.

I’d started slowly, rubbing her between blows, my callused hands taking their fill of her beautiful half-moon curves, sliding over the mere millimeters of cheap fabric that kept me from her skin.

Then she’d pitched her hips up higher, practically begging me for violence, and I felt myself inclined to give it to her...and I knew she’d let me, if I asked her right.

I sank back into the throne a little bit and jutted my hips forward, contemplating the perfection of her ass, as the shine of her costume was being slowly dulled by my handprints.

“You do realize you’re the most perfect girl here, don’t you?” I said, stroking a hand across her lower back.

I felt her whole body tense—her stomach muscles against my thigh, her arms straighten against the ground. I even heard her give a little gasp.

“There I was, sitting all by myself at the bar, wondering what I was going to do with the rest of my night,” I said, as rhythmically as possible, like I was charming a snake, and I moved my hands from stroking to palming, kneading the places on her I’d already hit, that I was sure were sore. “And then you came in, and I knew.”

That...wasn’t precisely accurate. But we were in a scene, and I was well aware it was what she wanted to hear.

“You did?” she said softly, twisting her head back quickly to look at me over her shoulder.

Lucifer was handing me his business card.

Beelzebub was opening a gate.

“I did,” I lied, and somewhere in the distance I heard Astaroth throwing away a key. “You were meant for my hand from the moment I saw you,” I said, running one of my forefingers down the seam stretched against her crack. The action made her close her eyes and shudder, and it was all I could do not to evilly laugh. “Can I spank you harder, Lia?” I used her name because I hoped she would know it was a genuine request, but as soon as her eyes opened, and before she could rationally answer, I switched tactics like the asshole I was doomed to be. “Do you think you can take it for Daddy?”

She twisted more fully toward me at that, panting harder than the pain required. “I can take anything,” she breathed.

And in that moment . . . I wanted to give it to her.