Cameras. Cameras. There are cameras. I had to keep chanting the words in my head in order to force myself to do as Pope and his mother had commanded. I knew Vivian would watch the footage of what was about to happen. There was no way she wouldn’t. For one, the sick bitch would want to make sure that I paid for my crime properly, and for another, I think she actually would find pleasure in it.

So, I had no choice. I walked to the corner of the room furthest away from the door as if somehow that made me safer, and stood in it with my face inches from the wall. The warm burgundy paint became my only view, and the ridiculousness of the situation actually had me smiling in that uncomfortable and awkward way one couldn’t control. Even as a child, I never stood in the corner, though I didn’t exactly have a childhood with parents who offered guidance ever. But as an adult… I was stuck in the most fucked up nursery rhyme.

Demi Wayne was a naughty child.

Standing in the corner for being too wild.

About to be spanked on her bare behind.

To teach obedience, Pope would remind.

I struggled to not giggle which then led me to wonder if I had lost my mind just as much as Vivian had. Was I just as fucked and broken as she was? Why did I want to laugh? Why did I have butterflies fluttering in my tummy? With nothing to do but stand with my nose in the corner, I remembered a scene I had watched on Little House On The Prairie where Nellie Olsen had been put over her husband’s knee and spanked. She was an adult, and her husband had spanked her for being a brat. I remembered that I had been fascinated with the scene. It had given me butterflies then like the ones I had now. Was this really going to happen? Was I about to be spanked like Nellie Olsen had? But that television show was set in the 1800s. Not in modern times. The discipline of a grown woman didn’t happen in today’s time. Did it? But then again, being kidnapped by a deranged Asian lady to be groomed to be the obedient and perfect wife didn’t happen to people either.

The door opened. My other senses were heightened due to the fact that I could only see where the two walls met. I could hear the sound of Pope’s boots as he entered the room. What would he do? Was he also chanting camera, camera, camera?

I could feel his presence as he came up to where I stood. I could smell his masculinity as his lips moved closer. I could feel the electric bolt sizzle through my core as he kissed me on my neck and then whispered to me so only I would hear.

“This has to happen for the sake of Maria. You know this right?”

I whispered, “Yes.” And without having any self control in my body, I leaned into his kiss when I was given another delightful caress right below my ear. I knew Pope was only kissing me like this to hide our conversation, but it didn’t take away the fact that his lips against my flesh did something to me. Something powerful.

“We have to maintain the illusion.”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to tell you sorry now. But it is my one and only time. I’m doing what I have to do, and I need to know that you accept that fact. After this moment, you will let it go. You will not look at me as an abusive asshole. I will not look at you as a victim. We will see this as just another act in order to save a woman and her baby.”

“Yes,” I said again, desperately wanting another kiss. A trail of kisses leading to more. What the hell was happening to me, and why was my pussy throbbing in hungry need like a horny teenager?

“I’m sorry.” He pulled away from our intimate connection, and a second later, I heard a stern and almost terrifying command. “Turn around, Demi. It’s time for your punishment.”

As if Pope was a puppet master, and he had my strings in his hands, I did as he asked without hesitation. I wanted this over with. I had always been the child who pulled my Band-Aid off in one fast yank.

Pope took me by the hand and led me over to the bed. He sat down on the edge, with his legs spread, and patted his lap. Was this the signal for me to lay over it? His eyes made contact with mine, and that simple and tiny act was all I needed to have the courage to do just that. It was like a dance of submission, but I didn’t know the steps. The act of my belly touching his thighs felt awkward. Was I too heavy? I felt too heavy.

No time was wasted as Pope lifted my dress, revealing my bare behind. The ivory g-string panties that I had put on that morning didn’t cover an inch of my exposed skin. His finger hooked the top of the lace, and he removed my panties, pulling them down to the middle of my thighs. His effortless skill, without the slightest fumble, told me this man was not a novice in this act. He knew what he was doing. That much was for sure. My bottom half was nearly naked, minus the band of lace panties bunched at my thighs, and the burn on my face grew to an inferno.

“Demi, your behavior in the kitchen this morning is why you are here.” He rested his palm on the cheek of my ass and rubbed it in small circles as if preparing me for what was to come. “Do you understand why I am going to have to spank you now?”

I nodded, keeping my eyes closed as if I could block this humiliation out if I couldn’t see anything but blackness.

Without warning, Pope lifted his palm and slapped it down sharply onto my bottom. He spanked me again, before I could process what was fully happening. “When you are being disciplined, I expect you to answer me with ‘yes, sir.’ ” He spanked me again as if to accentuate his command.

“Yes, sir,” I replied with a gasp as his hand swatted my bottom harder than the ones before.

“This is punishment. It is going to hurt. It’s going to teach you to control your temper, your impulses,” he paused to spank me hard two more times, “and putting the lives of others at risk all because you can’t act in a way that’s so very important you do.”

He began to pepper my upturned bottom in a staccato of rapid swats. It stung, and no matter how stoic I thought I would be during this spanking, I couldn’t control my movements as I wiggled and writhed to avoid another painful slap to my heated skin.

This wasn’t what I expected. I suppose I somehow thought he would fake the spanking, if that were even possible. I didn’t entertain the thought that the spanking from Pope would actually hurt. And it did! It hurt!

“Pope…” I had nothing more to say other than his name, but I hoped it would be enough for him to stop the assault, but he only continued on with swat after swat.

I didn’t want to cry out. I didn’t want to show any discomfort because I didn’t want to give Vivian the satisfaction of knowing that, yes, I was truly being punished. She had won. But this spanking was so much more than just an act of pain. As I moved my bare lower half against the denim of Pope’s pants, and as his large palm touched such an intimate part of my body, I felt something deeper. Arousal sparked inside of me with each swat of his hand. The pain turned to pleasure, the sting turned to a throbbing deep within my sex. The way Pope held me firmly against him, the way he dominated the situation, and the way he mastered my body caused my pussy to get wet, at the very same time tears filled my eyes. I was vulnerable, and at the mercy of his hand. I hated this, and, yet at the same time, I didn’t want it to stop. It was Pope. I wanted Pope. Maybe I was desperate for a touch, for any touch at all, that even something that caused discomfort such as a spanking was still a touch I needed. It was still something. Anything to make me feel. To feel anything but fear, terror, hate, and insanity. With each spank of his hand, I felt a sense of grounding. We were connected. On the same team. As one.

“Are you going to try harder so we don’t find ourselves in this situation again?” Pope asked as he spanked my behind in a rhythm that seemed to calm my soul.

“Yes, sir.” Odd how right those words seemed. How naturally they fell from my lips.

Pope paused the spanking, caressing my punished skin with his heated palm. “You realize how important it is? How important it is you follow every direction that is given?” I knew he was subtly reminding me that I had to do as his mother asked or risk everything for Maria.

I nodded, focusing on not moaning when Pope’s fingertips got dangerously close to my sex. Pope ran his palm from the top of my ass, to where my butt met my thighs.

I relaxed into him, uncomfortable with my vulnerable position, but aroused by his soft touch and silky voice even more. I didn’t move, wriggle or fight his caress. I closed my eyes and absorbed every moment.

“It’s important you remind yourself why we are doing this. You have to do what is needed.”

Pope parted my legs further, opening my crevice completely to his view. What started as a blush, had no doubt reached a level of fiery red against my heated face. Never had I laid across a man’s lap, with my ass in the air, legs spread wide, and everything private in full sight. With only a breathless gasp and a slight tensing of my body, I allowed Pope to do as he pleased. Resistance never entered my mind.

His fingertip dipped into the natural contours of my bottom, sliding seductively along my puckered opening. “My mother had one final request before I came in here. You aren’t going to like it, but I feel we have no choice but to listen.” Pope’s finger rubbed over my anus in small measured circles.

My breath caught, trapped in my throat by the erotic desire for him to press past my opening. Anal sex wasn’t ever something I had even considered in the past. Many had tried, but that was an off limits area. But something told me that I would enjoy it immensely with Pope.

He removed his hand and reached for something beside him. I kept my eyes shut, clenching my fists in nervous anticipation. Was I going to be spanked with a paddle like Vivian said had hung in her kitchen as a warning? Was that what she had added as her request?

Moments later, Pope applied something wet and slick to my puckered rosebud that desperately craved to be invaded. He continued to rub and tease by pressing the tip of his fingertip past the tight skin.

I looked over my shoulder, brushing the curls from my eyes so I could see what Pope had in store. In his hand, was a root of some sort, carved into a shape to resemble the tip of a penis.

“What is that?” I asked, never before seeing something like what he had in his hand.

“This is a ginger root that Vivian,” he cleared his throat, “carved into the shape that will fit into your bottom.” He took a deep breath as if he was uncomfortable with the idea. “She said you would know why your bottom hole is getting punished too.” He glanced up at the rafters and whispered, “There’s cameras…”

Oh God! Was Vivian doing this because I didn’t cleanse my anus as she had wanted? Was she punishing my asshole because of my not doing so? What the fuck? Was this really happening? Ginger? Carved to look like a small penis?

Pope placed his hand between my shoulder blades and pressed me all the way down again. The only thing I could see was the wooden floorboards below me. I couldn’t help but buck against the root as it made contact with my skin. The fear of the unknown and the pressure on my entrance caused all my nerves to spring to life.

He spread my buttocks further apart and pressed the root past the tight hole. I jerked. “Hold still,” he ordered.

I whimpered at the sharp bite of the intrusion.

“Relax.” He continued to press the root further, demanding access. “I want you to close your eyes and relax.”

Relax? Was he insane?

My hands flailed until they found his calves and dug in. My breath hitched with every movement of the root. Inch by inch, the ginger made its passage into my depths. “Oh, God.”

The root was almost all the way in, spreading my hole to my limits. My anus continued to stretch, but my pussy pulsated in desire. The tight muscles of my tiny hole gave as I took the thickest part of the root.

I shook my head, my voice strained. “Pope, I can’t. It stings.”

“Take a deep breath and relax. You can do this.” He leaned down and kissed the top of my bottom.

With a final shove that had me crying out, Pope pushed the ginger root all the way to its carved base.

Pope leaned down and placed soft kisses on my lower back, working his way to each cheek of my butt. He moved his hand to my clit and pinched. I pressed against his touch, desperate for the tender reward for my submission.

He continued to rub and stroke my bud, driving my passion to a whole new level. A slow burn began to build in the depths of my canal. A burning that rippled its way through my entire bottom hole.

Pressing down on my back when I tried to struggle, Pope whispered, “It’s all right. It’s supposed to burn. Focus on my touch.”

The burning in my bottom melted any sense of control. I panted against the sensation as the heat grew in intensity. A scorching fire set my insides ablaze.

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. All I could do was clench my fist, close my eyes and commit myself to Vivian’s dictated punishment.

The punishment continued on until I couldn’t tell where the fire in my ass started and where it ended. And my pussy… God, I wanted so much more. The burn went so deep inside my ass, but even deeper within my core.

Mercifully, Pope pulled me up gently so we were both standing. He wrapped his arms securely around me, pulling me into his chest. He kissed my forehead as he rubbed light circles over my burning butt. The sting in my ass, and the stinging ginger root, was nothing compared to the throbbing in my pussy. I wanted Pope Montgomery, more than I ever had before.

He pulled away and took a few steps back while taking a deep breath. I felt my breasts growing heavy, starving for his touch as his gaze dropped to my panties still bunched right above my knees. My face heated as my nipples hardened. His stare only made my pussy dampen with need.

“Demi. I hope you know I would give my life for you. I’m doing what it takes for survival. You get that right?”

I nodded, not sure that I would be able to speak if I tried.

“Go into the hallway bathroom. Vivian said you would know what to do now.”

I nodded again, pulling up my panties, but too ashamed to remove the root until I was behind the bathroom door. Without looking at Pope, I exited the room as a million good and bad sensations sizzled through me.

Vivian was standing in the hallway, blocking the bathroom door. Her arms were crossed, and a smug look washed over her delicate and dainty face. “I suppose your tiny bottom hole is on fire right about now. I bet you won’t mind flushing it with cool water now. I bet that anal cleansing is something you simply can’t wait for.” She giggled. “Remember, Momma’s watching…”