If this subreddit isn't for posting sexy excerpts from novels, then please take this down, and I apologize. I didn't see any rules against it, though. And it's longer than most stories on here, so I thought it would be acceptable.
Thoughts of Mr. Sheffield filled my mind as I let my purified body enjoy the hot water. For a man who could be my father, he was incredibly handsome with a chiseled jawline and such spectacularly strong cheekbones. I didn’t know why, but for just a second, I had the urge to touch my pussy as I thought of him.
Maybe it was his confident and manipulative smile or the way that he’d acted with the manager. Or maybe it was just the fact that I hadn’t felt a man’s touch in so long that I couldn’t remember the way a kiss felt. I let out a giggle at the thought of Mr. Sheffield kissing me. He was just so sweet that I couldn’t imagine how it would ever happen. It was time to get out, though. I was back in the human world, and I couldn’t just sit and fantasize all day now.
I turned off the shower and stepped out to dry off. Running the towel over my smooth skin was like being caressed by a lover. I hadn’t been naked since being homeless for lack of a shower and fear of being assaulted. I rubbed the towel across the mirror to clear the steam so that I could finally look at myself without any filth.
My face had grown thin, my waist was emaciated, and my old C-cup tits had shrunk down to a large B. That was what hunger did to a person, I guess. On a good note, all of my muscles had grown instead of shrinking from all of my movement and walking. All in all, I was still sexy even if my tits had shrunk a bit. At least I wouldn’t have to fix that.
I looked closer at my face, though. I’d looked almost like a child when I’d entered college. I’d been innocent, and it was obvious to anyone looking at me. I’d experienced many things while I’d been a part of the sorority, but none of them had caused me any stress. Though I had lost my virginity, I was still a naïve child in the eyes of the world. I’d been as young and blissful as ever until the day that I’d lost my financial aid and scholarships and had been thrown to the streets.
Now my turquoise eyes seemed just a touch bluer than they had been. I was harder now, more accustomed to the weight of the world being on my shoulders. There was no longer the same innocence in my young eyes, yet my body’s small stature and thin proportions conflicted with them. I’d seen much more of the pain in the world now, and there was no hiding it.
I wrapped the towel around me again and walked into the attached bedroom. On the gold and purple comforter was an outfit. I closed and locked the door to my bedroom and threw the towel on the floor. I held up the expensive black lace bra and matching sheer thong. Mr. Sheffield had been right about these at least. Perfect fit. It was strange that a man in his early forties would be married to a woman with a size 0 waist, but the thought didn’t last long. I had to look at myself in the beautiful lingerie.
The woman staring back from the full-length mirror was beautiful, more beautiful than I remembered ever being. I could have done modeling, and I ran my fingers over the lace that caressed all of my most sensitive areas. I brushed against the thin material that separated my pussy from the cool air of the room, and I felt something that I hadn’t in six months: a throbbing need.
I tried to push the thought out of my mind. I was living with a man, but he was my employer, not my boyfriend or lover. I couldn’t fuck this up. This was my one chance, and I wasn’t going to make the same mistakes I had in college. Sex had been my downfall then, and I swore that it was the last thing I was going to worry about now that I was making a life for myself!
I looked down at the ruby-red spaghetti-strap day dress that Mr. Sheffield had left on the bed. It was fun with sequins across the bust and a line of small lace bows down the front, but when I put it on, it seemed to have been made too short. The bottom rested only inches from the bottom of my ass and the top barely covered the bra, revealing a very large amount of cleavage. Mr. Sheffield may have been a kind-hearted man who was trying to give me a chance where others had forgotten I’d existed, but he was still a man. I didn’t think he was going to do anything to hurt me, and if he wanted to look at a pretty girl in an arousing dress, I couldn’t blame him. It was a small price to pay for a roof over my head.
I brushed my hair and looked into the mirror again. I looked like someone out of a magazine. I felt refreshed, and my skin seemed to glow. It was almost as though the last six months hadn’t happened. For the first time in a long time, I felt completely human instead of a beast living in twilight. I gave the mirror an ear-to-ear smile and left the room.
Mr. Sheffield was relaxing in a coffee-colored leather recliner with his laptop open and the news on the TV. I sat down on the matching distressed leather couch next to him and waited for him to say something. I was full of excitement, but Mr. Sheffield was intimidating now that I knew what I was risking if I made a simple mistake. So I just watched him and waited.
My pussy was unrelenting about its hunger, though. I hadn’t had sexual thoughts in months, and now that I was clean, it was craving to be filled. I’d never felt this overcome by desire before. Even when I’d been a drunken college student surrounded by sexy frat boys, the needs had paled in comparison to the way that I felt now. I couldn’t help staring at Mr. Sheffield. My eyes roamed over his body. He was wearing a concealing button-down shirt, but the ripples of toned, yet not obscenely large, muscles showed through the arms and shoulders of the shirt.
When I looked down at his pants, I could see a bulge that let me know that there was no doubt in his ability to satisfy a woman, and my pussy begged me to be the slutty sorority girl that I’d been. The tight lace thong pressed against my hairless pussy, and I had a hard time pushing the thoughts of Mr. Sheffield ravishing me out of my mind.
His salt and pepper stubble gave him an experienced and slightly rough appearance. The bright hazel eyes constantly blazed with intensity as he read and typed, and I couldn’t help but be drawn to them. I imagined staring into them as we lay next to each other in bed. I knew that I needed to stop thinking of him this way, but my newly awoken desires made it difficult.
Seconds ticked by in the silence; his fingers tapping away at the keyboard were the only sounds in the room other than my pounding heartbeat. Whatever happened, I was going to make sure that I kept my job. I would not give into my desires, and I would focus on what mattered: making sure that Mr. Sheffield was happy. I could masturbate in my room tonight, and then I’d feel much better, but for now, my cunt needed to stop begging. After what seemed like forever, but was actually more like five minutes, Mr. Sheffield closed his laptop and turned to me.
“Let’s sit at the table, Maggie. Then we can talk about the details of your new job.” He stood up, and I followed him to the embellished and stylish dark cherry dining room table.
“You look so much better after your shower. I bet you feel better as well, don’t you?” His arms rested on the table as he crossed one leg over the other.
“Yes Mr. Sheffield, I feel like a brand new girl.” I tried not to act as awkward as I felt. I was intimidated and had no idea how to make idle conversation anymore.
“Well, let’s get down to it then. You’ll be responsible for making breakfast and dinner, maintaining a grocery list, and cleaning the house. For the first week, I’ll give you the chore list for the day so that you know the level of detail that will be expected. After the first week, it will be up to you to make sure that everything gets done at whatever pace you decide. I will make sure that everything is bought on the grocery list on Mondays and Thursdays, and you’ll be able to use anything in the kitchen. That means that you need to plan ahead for meals. Don’t get caught without enough food. Do you have any questions?”
“No sir, that all sounds reasonable.” It seemed like a lot of responsibilities to me, but I understood that it wasn’t that much for a normal housekeeper. My hand gently tapped on the tabletop as Mr. Sheffield spoke. I had so much nervous energy that it had to escape somewhere.
“Now I need you remember that I’m from a different generation. I expect you to be awake, dressed, and making breakfast by 6 am every morning during the week and 8 am on the weekends. That means that you need to look professional by that time. Don’t cook breakfast in your pajamas. You will also be required to wear professional clothing at all times if you are outside of the bedroom. Make sure that your clothes are being washed. I will not put up with you or your clothes stinking. You’re not homeless anymore, and I expect you to act like it.”
I felt a bit of shame creep over me at his remark about how badly I’d stunk, but I nodded in acceptance. He could degrade my past appearance all he wanted. That wasn’t me anymore. I’d already scrubbed the past from me, and I’d been reborn as a professional woman who would be taking care of Mr. Sheffield’s domestic duties.
“If you accept those terms, then you can start dinner while I do some work in my room. It’s 4 o’clock right now, and I expect dinner to be on the table by 6. If you have questions about anything, please let me know.”
I said, “Yes, sir,” and stood up. Mr. Sheffield left the room, and the silence was almost oppressing. The city had always had noises. Even at three in the morning, you could hear rats scrabbling in trash cans and cats in heat. Cars would speed by, and construction workers filled the midnight shifts with banter and work. Now, it was silent, and I was alone with a single task: cook dinner. It was too bad that I’d never done that before.
I went to the open-layout kitchen and began exploring. Everything was well organized, and the entire kitchen was extremely intuitive. When I looked into the refrigerator, I saw pork chops and thought back to my short stint in the sorority house. I’d seen people cook pork chops, but I’d never made them myself.
I would have to try my best because I certainly wasn’t going to ask Mr. Sheffield for instructions on simple cooking. So I turned the stove to medium and plopped four thick pork chops into the pan. Then I found some angel hair pasta and alfredo sauce. I knew that I could cook basic pasta, so that would be one side. Then I saw some frozen broccoli. None of it had any theme other than filling the typical requirement of meat and two sides.
I put the broccoli in a pot along with the recommended amount of water. Then I waited, and my mind began to stray. This entire situation seemed comical to me. I’d cooked a handful of times, and now I was going to be paid to be a cook. I would have to do a lot of research tomorrow when Mr. Sheffield went to work. My mind drifted to what I would cook this week since I had almost unlimited options. Burgers. Lasagna. Steak. All of these things had been daydreams for me this morning, and now I would be choosing and preparing them. The winds of change were a tornado in my case. Time passed as I daydreamed and stared into space like I normally did while I panhandled.
Then I looked down to see the pork chops smoking, and I reached down to flip them over, but they were stuck. I got the metal spatula and tried to scrape them off the pan, and only succeeded in shredding the bottoms and leaving huge burn marks on the pan. There was no salvaging them, and I turned the stove off. I looked into the refrigerator, and there wasn’t any other meat to cook. I’d messed up the first job that Mr. Sheffield had given me. I couldn’t believe that I’d let daydreams take priority over making our dinner. I’d sworn to myself that I wouldn’t ruin this chance, and already, I’d returned to that fucked up college girl who didn’t pay attention.
The smoke alarm started beeping as the kitchen filled with smoke. The stuck pieces of pork chop had continued to burn in the hot pan. Mr. Sheffield appeared in the kitchen and reached up to pull the battery out of the smoke alarm. He didn’t say anything as he opened the windows and pushed me out of the way so that he could clean up the mess that I’d made.
I just stared in panic as the stern-faced older man took charge and fixed my mistakes. He’d seemed so friendly only an hour ago, but now his jaw was clenched tightly as he scraped the burned meat into the trash can and washed the pan. It only took him a few minutes to remedy my mistake, but his eyes hardened, and he said, “Maggie, come sit down. We need to talk.”
I looked down at the floor and tried to be the invisible girl living on the streets, but his eyes burned into me, and his anger seemed to grow at my attempt to hide from his wrath. I nodded, and he walked back to the couch so that we could escape the haze of smoke that filled the kitchen. He sat down on the loveseat and patted the seat next to him, indicating that he wanted me sit there.
When I sat down and smoothed out the dress, he said, “Maggie, do you know how to cook?” His voice was calm, but there was a fierceness behind it. He was holding back most of his emotions, and I was thankful for that small kindness.
“A little?” I answered hesitantly. “I’ve cooked some things like pasta and vegetables, but I’ve never cooked anything complicated or any kind of meat. I’m sorry that I took the job without telling you that.”
“I’m glad that you aren’t lying to me. If you were lying, I would have returned your clothes to you and kicked you out. I can promise that lying to me is the absolute worst thing you can do when you deal with me.” He stopped for a moment as something crossed his mind. “Instead, I’ll help you work through it. I need someone who can cook and clean. Do you at least know how to clean?”
“I think so. It may not be to your standards, though. If you tell me when I do things wrong, I’ll fix them. I promise! I’ll do anything it takes to keep this job. You’re saving my life, and I know it! Please don’t make me go back to the streets!” I didn’t try to put on the sad puppy dog face that all young women hold in their back pocket. This man did not want vulnerable. He wanted someone who was direct and honest.
Mr. Sheffield was quiet as his fingers tapped the arm of the loveseat in a very antsy manner. His ponderous face was much calmer now, and he was silent as he stared at the wall. Every once in a while, he’d close his eyes briefly before opening them again to look at me. He seemed to make a decision, though. A brief moment of sadness filled his face before he began to speak, and then it was gone.
“I have a thought. You don’t have to agree to it if you don’t want to, but I feel like it would be the best way to help you learn quickly and efficiently.” His gaze was steady and completely focused on me. I tried to keep my eyes focused on him but constantly felt like I needed to look away. “I am giving you an opportunity that most people wouldn’t even consider. You’ll get a chance to turn your life around and do something with it. All I asked was for you to cook and clean, but you can’t do either one to my satisfaction currently.”
I was silent as he spoke. I hung on every word that fell from his lips, knowing that things had changed, and all I hoped was that they had not changed beyond repair.
“I’m old enough to be your father, and that may be why I am giving you this opportunity. I would hate to imagine a daughter of mine being in your position, and I’d hope that someone would give them an opportunity like this. I only know how to teach one way, and that’s through strict discipline along with rewards for good behavior.”
“For an infraction such as this one, you would earn a bare-bottom spanking with my hand. If you did something worse, such as start a fire or completely forget to cook dinner, you could earn a spanking with the belt or a cane. The bruises on your ass would remind you to focus throughout the day, and you will try even harder to please me.”
The thought of being spanked by Mr. Sheffield wasn’t something that I’d ever considered. I’d never considered being spanked by anyone for that matter, and my parents hadn’t even spanked me as a child. I’d been their princess, and they had overlooked my faults and praised me for everything I did right. Maybe this would be a good way to correct my bad track record with being a responsible young woman.
“What do you think about my proposition?” His fingers tapped even faster on the edge of the loveseat.
I knew what my answer would be. I’d already seen the light at the end of the tunnel of my poverty, and it led through this man. Did I want him to spank me? I didn’t know. I didn’t want the pain of being hit, but the thought of being disciplined seemed to be something that I could handle. I had no desire to ever live on the streets again, and if a little pain helped me to get to a happy and stable arrangement with Mr. Sheffield, I would do it. In truth, I had a strange desire to make him proud of me. I’d only known him for a day, but he was an impressive man. Plus, he just felt like the kind of father that I had pictured fairy tale princesses having.
“Mr. Sheffield, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my job and stay here with you. If you think that giving me a spanking will help me to become a better employee, I will gladly take it. You’ve given me the first bit of hope in so long, and I’m not going to let it slip away. I’m sorry that you’ll have to punish me, but I will gladly take whatever punishment you deem appropriate.”
His eyes seemed to change from thoughtful and slightly frustrated into something different. Something primal. “Then bend over my knees, lift up your dress, and pull your panties down. You’ll get five swats for ruining dinner.” A shiver ran through me as his command rippled over my body.
I nodded my head and slid my nervous body over his lap. I could feel his cock begin to rise underneath me, and my resolve to stay professional weakened. His cock began to twitch as I reached behind me and pulled up the back of my dress, exposing my ass to a man for the first time in so long that I barely recognized the feelings that coursed through my veins. His soft hand rubbed against my pale cheeks lightly, as though he were caressing a beautiful piece of art rather than a woman’s body.
I pulled my thong down, and his hand grasped a full globe of flesh tightly before taking a deep breath. He was strong. So much stronger than I’d imagined. My heart was racing as I prepared myself for the pain that would soon be radiating from my ass. I had never had a spanking in my life, and I had no idea what to expect. His fingers released my ass, and I unconsciously held my breath as I waited for his hand to come down hard on me.
Then I felt it, the stinging pain of his palm connecting with the tender bottom part of my right butt cheek. I let out a shriek as my body jolted forward trying to escape the pain. I wouldn’t escape him. I knew that. I had no control over my body as the pain shot through me, though, and I was thankful that his other arm had held me in place. His cock was standing at attention underneath me, pressing hard into my belly, and I felt a sensation overcome even the pain that radiated from my ass: lust. My blood was quickly flowing to my exposed pussy, and when his hand came down again, the shriek was much quieter even though the pain was much worse.
I didn’t understand why I was getting wet from the spanking. I didn’t know if it was because I just wanted someone to touch me, or if it was the pain that was turning me on. Or was it the fact that I was being punished? I’d had rough sex before, and it hadn’t made me feel this way. The only way that this spanking could be any better was if my fingers were rubbing my clit, and Mr. Sheffield was whispering dirty things in my ear.
My ass must have been growing red, and as his hand connected for the third time, I was silent. I closed my eyes and envisioned him spanking me and leaving crimson handprints where ever his large hands touched me. My breathing was deep and ragged as lust and desire filled my mind and body. My hands gripped his slacks tightly as my legs began to spread, subconsciously begging him to touch my other, more desperate areas. I would have called myself a filthy slut, except that it wasn’t just that I was horny and wanted a man’s touch. I only wanted this, and I only wanted Mr. Sheffield to be doing it. And I had no idea why.
The fourth spanking didn’t elicit a shriek or cry. Instead, it was a soft moan of pleasure. I couldn’t understand anything my body was telling me at this point. I knew that there was pain, and I knew that I was embarrassed by being in this position. Except, the only sensation was that tingling electricity that flowed through your body as you relaxed and let a guy eat your pussy. That wasn’t right either, though. It was more like getting fingered in public. You knew that you should stop it, but you also knew that you didn’t want to.
My ass moved back to its initial place almost instantly, and I wished that I could receive more than just five spankings. I didn’t want to have to make mistakes to continue receiving spankings from this experienced man. I didn’t understand why I would want pain, but the desire was clear. His hand on my ass was turning me on more than anything I’d experienced before, even when I’d been a party slut in college.
The fifth spanking came down, and I let out a deep moan of desire causing his cock to twitch yet again underneath me. His hand began to pull my thong back into place, but his fingers grazed my pussy and sent waves of pleasure through me. My crotch moved with its own mind and softly rubbed against his leg. I longed to have something inside of me, but I didn’t know what to say or how to convince him to give it to me. He flipped the back of my dress down, and said, “You did well for your first spanking. Now you need to tell me, ‘Thank you, Mr. Sheffield, for helping me to become better for you.’”
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Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/3pppuk/bdsm4200_word_spanking_excerpt_from_torn