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.
Judge Harlow took
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?”
“No, Sir.”
“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.
