From my short story, Sentenced.
The stress of defending the indefensible weighs heavy on Ariel Spencer’s shoulders—heavy enough to bend her over Judge Harlow’s lap every Friday afternoon for some justice of her own.
Ariana stood and reached for the side zipper on her skirt. She slipped out of the garment and folded it neatly before draping it over the back of her chair. Ass exposed by her thong, she skirted the desk.
a moment to admire her near-nakedness before pushing his chair back, allowing
her room to drape herself over his lap. God, how she loved the feel of his silk
robe beneath her stomach and thighs—not to mention the feel of his big hand
between her shoulder blades, holding her in place.
“Ariana Spencer, for failing to win three cases this past week, I sentence you to be spanked until your ass is the same shade of red as my tie. Is there anything you wish to say in your defense before your sentence is carried out?”
“I don’t need to remind you I’m the only one who needs to hear you, do I?”
He lovingly caressed her ass, squeezing and stroking—giving her fair warning. “No, Sir”
She knew it was coming, but still, the first blow to her right cheek startled her. Judge Harlow wasn’t known for leniency in his courtroom or his chambers. It was all she could do to squelch the cry that bubbled up in her throat, but squelch it she did.
His hand rained down on her ass like lightning bolts hurtled from the sky by an angry god. Tears stung her eyes as she battled to keep her voice down to a whimper. He showed no mercy, which was exactly as she expected, and one of the primary reasons she came here, week after week.
Ariana screwed her eyes shut and focused all her attention on her ass, and the rhythmic slaps of skin against skin, lulling her into another world—one where her responsibilities narrowed to a single person—one where her needs were simple and provided for—one where pleasure and pain were sometimes the same thing.