Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
The thought made me want to run, to hide, to do anything to avoid the humiliation that awaited me. Desperation clawed at my throat as the full implications set in. The thought of being spanked was mortifying enough, but to have it done in front of all these people—strangers who would soon have such intimate power over me—was more than I could bear.
“Mr. Weathers,” I blurted out, my voice trembling. “Please, sir. Couldn’t we… couldn’t you punish me in private? In my bedroom, maybe?”
The room fell silent, all eyes on me. I felt my face flame with embarrassment, but I pressed on, words tumbling out in a panicked rush.
“I know I deserve to be punished,” I said, hating the way my voice quavered. “And I… I promise I’ll take whatever you think is right. But please, sir, not in front of everyone. I’ll learn my lesson just as well in private, I swear.”
Devin’s steady blue eyes met mine, his expression unreadable. For a moment, hope fluttered in my chest. Maybe he would show mercy, spare me this public humiliation.
But then he shook his head, his voice firm and unyielding. “I’m afraid that’s not how we do things here, Andrea,” he said. “A public spanking serves two purposes. First, it ensures that you fully understand the consequences of your actions. There’s nothing quite like the shame of having your bottom bared and warmed in front of others to drive a lesson home.”
I flinched at his words, once more, to my dismay, imagining the scene all too vividly. My hands instinctively moved to cover my backside, as if I could somehow shield it from what was to come.
“Second,” Devin continued, his tone softening slightly, “it shows the rest of the household that justice has been served. It reinforces the rules for everyone, not just the person being punished.”
He leaned forward, his gaze intense. “I know it seems harsh, Andrea. But in the long run, this is the best way to make sure you’ll behave in the future. It’s for your own good, truly.”
Tears pricked at my eyes, threatening to spill over. I opened my mouth to protest again, but Devin held up a hand, silencing me.
“That’s enough,” he said, his voice taking on a gruffer edge. “The matter is settled. Now, follow Lila and Lydia to the kitchen. Dinner isn’t getting any warmer, and I won’t have good food go to waste because of your dallying.”
I stood there for a moment, frozen in place by the finality of his words. The reality of my situation crashed over me like a wave—there was no escape, no reprieve. In just a short while, I would be over this man’s knee feeling the sting of his palm as I kicked and squirmed helplessly.
In a fog of shame and fear, I followed Lila and Lydia out of the dining room, my legs trembling beneath me. The kitchen seemed impossibly far away, each step an eternity. The polished hardwood floor creaked softly under our feet, the sound unnaturally loud in the silence that had fallen.
As we reached the doorway to the kitchen, Lydia leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear. “Remember,” she whispered urgently, “we’re not allowed to speak at the table unless we’re spoken to. Just keep your eyes down and do as you’re told.”
I nodded mutely, my throat too tight to form words. The smell of well-cooked food enveloped us as we entered the kitchen, making my stomach churn with a mixture of hunger and nausea though I knew I should have found it comforting and homey.
Greta stood at the gleaming granite island, an array of steaming dishes spread out before her. Her eyes swept over us critically, lingering on my flushed cheeks and trembling hands.
“Well,” she said briskly, “let’s get this food out while it’s hot. Lila, you take the chicken. Lydia, the dumplings. Andrea, you bring out the vegetables.”
She handed each of us a large, heavy platter. The weight of the dish in my hands anchored me, giving me something tangible to focus on. I inhaled deeply, catching notes of rosemary and onion mingling with the savory scent of perfectly roasted chicken.
We filed out of the kitchen in a silent procession, the delicious aromas wafting ahead of us. As we entered the dining room, I kept my eyes lowered, focusing on the floorboards under my feet. The low murmur of male voices fell silent as we approached the table.
I watched from the corner of my eye as Lila gracefully set the platter of golden-brown chicken in front of Devin. She moved with practiced ease, her movements fluid and demure. But as she leaned forward to place the dish, something happened that made my breath catch in my throat.
Bill, seated to Devin’s right, casually slipped his hand beneath the hem of Lila’s powder-blue dress. I watched in stunned disbelief as his fingers disappeared under the fabric, clearly caressing her thigh and then her little bottom. Lila’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson, but she didn’t flinch or pull away. Instead, she continued serving, her movements only slightly less smooth than before. I kept studying her face, noticing that she’d taken her lower lip between her teeth.