Power, Sex and Domination

It’s the 1950’s in puritanical New England, but not in Shelburne Falls. Michael is ahead of his times, eager for the pleasures of sex in all the wrong ways. Desperate to Submit is a Powerone novel of complete submission to those that have the power and money to take what they want from the less fortunate, but there is always those that get their pleasure in being dominated.

Those unfortunate enough to live in the poor, north end of town are easy prey for him. Some try to get out of the north end of town using their skills with their bodies as collateral, but there is a steep price that they’ll have to pay. Michael has friends interested in the more exotic pleasures that few have the money to partake in.

Even for those that live the better life, favors from Michael come with a cost. A beautiful wife is always the barter that he deals in. Those that owe him money and cannot pay can expect an unusual method of collection for the past due debt.

Brickford Industries controls the destiny of Shelburne Falls, none more than Michael Brickford its President. Michael is rich, handsome and debonair. He doesn’t get his women by seduction, but instead from their desperation. It’s the submission that gets him aroused to a fever pitch.

Yet there are strong women that find themselves in desperate situations. Can they overcome all the obstacles that men put in their way and come out on top with Michael and his friends?



Chapter 1
Dark Secrets of the Town

The water was cold on the Deerfield River that flowed over the falls in the small town of Shelburne Falls. The long winter was over, and the snowfall began to melt as the river rose up to its bank to try to corral nature unsuccessfully. The strengthened banks in town and near the factory always held, but it was the north end of town that failed year after year. This was the poor section of town, and monies were never spent there.

Nestled in the northeast part of Massachusetts, Shelburne Falls was centrally located on a rail line and Highway 5. There were plans to turn Highway 5 into an interstate highway, but that would be another decade or more before fruition.

It was a quaint town of over six thousand people, but the population had declined after the silk manufacturers and knitting mills lost favor in the new industrial world. For the last twenty years, only one company flourished—Brickford Industries. The brick offices, two stories tall, stood majestically just off Main Street, harkening to the new age of hardware manufacturing with massive machines. It was neatly landscaped to fit into the character and charm of the town, but six blocks away stood the sprawling factory. It was surrounded by fences topped with barbed wire, the entrances guarded by armed security. The massive tarred parking lot went on forever and was beginning to fill up as men and women came to work.

The factory was on the other side of the railroad tracks, and many of its workers came from the north end of the town where those that were less fortunate lived their lives. Across from the entrances to the factory were the usual diners, bars and strip joints that flourished where the blue-collar workers ate and drank, before, during and after work. The factory chimneys belched out black smoke downwind from the town on purpose, and the sounds of trains and their blaring horns rang out in the silence at all hours to the detriment of those that lived close by.

The south side of town was a world of contrast to the north end. Eyes were drawn to the vast estates of the wealthy that controlled the town, none more than the four mansions that stood out when you first entered. Their vast lawns that surrounded the driveway that cut thru them to the front of the mansions took days to mow, neatly manicured like a prized golf course. The largest mansion was resided in by the patriarch of the Brickford dynasty, Herbert Brickford, Chairman Emeritus of Brickford Industries, now retired at the age of seventy-two. His wife Emily passed away ten years prior, but he was encircled by his children. His large brick mansion had ten bedrooms and seven bathrooms and was capable of handling over a hundred guests for a dinner party with all the comforts the wealthy required, but it only housed him now in his declining years.

Closest to the patriarch was the home of Michael, President and Chairman of the Board of Brickford Industries, the elder son by four years. At forty-five, Michael barely showed his age. Handsome, rich, educated and connected, he married into the right social circle. His wife, Jennifer, of ten years was now thirty years old, daughter of the Holmes family of Hartford, Connecticut, their fortune made in the manufacturer of guns. Michael’s mansion was as grand as Herbert’s mansion but not as big.

On the other side of Herbert’s mansion lived his younger son, Peter. He was Chief Financial Officer of Brickford Industries. He met his wife, June, when he attended college in Boston. She was from a prominent Boston family that dated back to pre-revolutionary Boston. She was thirteen years his junior.

The farthest mansion housed Herbert’s only daughter, Violet. No one would mention her age, but it was forty-three. She was married for ten years to a younger man that was only interested in her money and status, but it took her ten years to see what all had told her the day before the wedding. She has a title at Brickford Industries, but she didn’t do any work.

Main Street was the bustling center of the town. The shops lined it on both sides for almost six blocks. There was everything that one could want, there was even the second oldest bowling alley in the country, but it was candlepins. The only exceptions were the few businesses that every town had but were relegated to the outskirts and, in this case, the north end. The sheriff could control it much easier when confined without offending the more puritanical population, which would’ve been aghast at what took place. It was just like hundreds of small towns that dotted the New England landscape in the mid-1950s. The Korean War was over, and prosperity flourished.

Michael ran the town as though he was king. His wealth and position made it possible. Besides owning the controlling interest in Brickford Industries, the family also owned a large swatch of the real estate in the town and surrounding countryside. It was bought when it was cheap before the company brought commerce back to the town after the other industries failed. Very little was sold over the years. It was more lucrative to rent or lease it out. It allowed the family to control the commerce in the town as well as the workers’ homes. It made the populace beholden to the Brickfords.

The town government was chosen by the people, but the Brickfords’ money and power were the only way that anyone could win an election, so all the elected officials were beholden to Michael. The police department was an extension of the Brickfords. Nothing went on in town without the express approval of Michael.

* * * *

It was Monday, and Marilyn was getting ready for work. Marilyn never expected it would take this long to get ready, but Mr. Brickford was a demanding boss as he was entitled to. She’d spent a lot of money for her wardrobe, but she wouldn’t last for long unless she looked fitting the part to be the secretary to the most powerful man in Shelburne Falls. She had the job for a month now, and her parents were so proud of her. All of the talented young women in town and the area applied for the job. It was extensive interviews, five of them in total before she was offered the position.

The last interview she remembered vividly. It was then she realized what would be required of her. She’d attended Boston Secretarial School for two years to be qualified, but they never taught her the dark truth. It was more than typing letters, making coffee and answering the phone. Mr. Brickford made sure that she realized the opportunities as well as the requirements.

Michael would make his choice that day, down to two women for the position. They were both qualified, but it was attitude that would get or lose the job for either one of them. He was highly impressed with the first candidate, Susan, but he wouldn’t decide until he interviewed Marilyn for the final time. She had been promised a final interview.

Marilyn was a half hour early, so she got to see her competition. It would be a tough decision Mr. Brickford would have to make, but she wasn’t about to give up and make it easy for him. She wanted this job more than anything, and she was determined to get it no matter what. The woman left his office with a knowing smile on her face. She was extremely attracted, and she dressed to show her best assets. But, Marilyn also knew that she was talented as well.

Michael smiled when Marilyn walked into the room. She’d come a long way since the first interview. He didn’t know why he gave her a chance after the first interview, but he did. He was pleased with his decision. Today they talked about her talents and the position, but that just covered the same ground that got her where she was now.

“Stand up so I can see you better, Marilyn.”

She didn’t think it was out of the ordinary. In fact, she considered it an honor. She stood up, her back straight.

“Do you know why you are here today, Marilyn?”

“Because I’m talented and the most qualified.” She answered confidently without pause.

“You are, but that’s not the main reason. On the first interview, you came dressed in a flowing skirt and a peasant blouse. It was out of place among all the other candidates, but I gave you a second chance. You didn’t disappoint me. You changed. That is why you are here. You can adapt and change to a fast-moving world. Look at you now.” She wore a bright red skirt that went to just below her knees, but it pulled over her body like a second skin. It highlighted her ass to perfection. Her white cashmere sweater clung to her upper body, and her pointed, proud breasts stood up, constrained in a very lovely bra beneath it. Her legs were shapely, muscles drawn taut by the three-inch red heels she wore. He suspected she wore a garter belt to hold up the sheer stocking she wore, the seam up the back in line precisely. “Turn around so I can see everything.”

Her back was to him, and she stopped, knowing his eyes burned on her ass, but she was proud of her body. She was proud that she adapted enough to please him. She let his eyes feast on her until he told her to turn forward. When she turned, he’d got off his chair, and he stood in front of her. Her body trembled but not in fear. It was excitement.

“Are you a virgin, Marilyn?” She just turned twenty last week. Nowadays, it was difficult to know what the young women would do regarding sex and morality.

The question didn’t bother her. The four other interviews had given her a glimpse of what might be required of her, without directly saying it. It was what they didn’t teach her in school about the position. It didn’t deter her from continuing to go to interview after interview. She answered truthfully. “Yes.

“Are you saving yourself for your husband?”

“No, but I’m not willing to give up my virginity to any man in the back seat of a car or a blanket on the ground.”

“You have a lovely body, Marilyn, and you’ve learned to dress it appropriately. Can you also learn how to use it appropriately?” His hand slid over her ass. She didn’t flinch as he smoothed his hand over the firm buttock nestled in her tight skirt.

“Yes, Mr. Brickford,” but her voice trembled from his touch. It felt too good. His touch was demanding and by a man with confidence. He pulled his hand away from her buttocks, but then, she felt him behind her. She held her breath, knowing what would happen. It took only seconds for two hands to slide over her waist. Her nipples instantly turned hard as rocks as if her fingers had coaxed them the same way she did when she masturbated in the privacy of her bed. The fingers slowly slid up her sides until they touched the edges of her breasts. She arched her back harder as his hands began to engulf both of them. It wasn’t the touch of an eager boy that tried to cop a feel before she’d slap his hand away. This was the touch of an experienced lover, and her nipples knew the difference. Still, what she felt next surprised her, and she couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped from her mouth.

Michael pushed his erection into her firm ass, and she didn’t try to move away. He did surprise her, but then, she pushed back onto his cock. She’d adapted to something new.

It was a cock that touched her buttocks, and this one was exceptional. It wasn’t long and thin like many boys she dated. It was big, thick and hard. It pounded with excitement when she pushed back to greet it.

“I’m a very dominating man, Marilyn. Can you serve me in the manner that I desire and expect?”

She pulled her buttocks away from his cock but only so her hand could reach back. Her hand instantly found his erect cock. He was so big. She knew she made him that way. Her fingers curled around it, and she felt it throb. She knew that she’d lose her virginity to him, and she was okay with that. “This is my answer.” She rubbed his cock very obviously through his pants. She wished she could take it out and stroke it naked.

“Good answer. You start on Monday. Go to personnel, and they’ll give you all the financial details of the position. I suspect that we’ll be a good team, able to work together as one.” He moved away and sat back down. It would take a bit until his erection went away, but she’d have to leave before it would start to fade.

“Thank you, Mr. Brickford. You won’t regret it.”

“No, I won’t, Marilyn.” He watched as she swung her ass rhythmically from side to side, blatantly teasing him of what will come. He’d tell Jennifer of his choice later that night. She’d approve of Marilyn. Jennifer knew he had desires, and she never interfered. His position in the town was important, and he had many opportunities to take advantage of it with some of the local women. It would be cruel not to allow him to partake as long as he came home to her every night. No one would dare talk about him negatively or insinuate anything about him. That would be the kiss of death.

* * * *

It was a busy day in the office for Marilyn as it always was on Mondays. The mayor and sheriff came by weekly to talk to Michael. They reported what happened over the weekend, and then, Michael would offer advice, although it was always followed to the letter.

The first was Mayor Davis. His term was up the following year, and he decided not to run again. He also owned the Ford dealership and was president of the Chamber of Commerce. He wanted to spend more time with his business interests. That is what he told everyone, but there was never a mayor that served more than one term in the last twenty-five years. It was a thankless job that had little power or meaning as long as the Brickfords ran the town.

He was a portly man, balding, and his clothes were always flashy. He’d hawked Fords too long, and he was always in the flamboyant ads on television that tried to get you to come down to his dealership. He was a talker, what salesman wasn’t, but he was also charming and personable. With Michael’s money, he handily won the last election.

“Good morning, Mayor Davis.” Marilyn already had his coffee ready for him. Michael never saw him right away. He never saw anyone on time, but Michael expected them to be on time. It was another way he let everyone know who was in charge.

“Good morning, Marilyn.” James loved to see Marilyn every Monday. It sent his blood pressure up for a good reason. She had a lovely body, and she dressed to show it to the fullest. James was glad to wait for Michael. She was much more appealing than Michael.

“He’ll be with you soon, Mayor Davis,” she lied.

“Yes, he’s always so busy. I don’t know how he keeps it all going so smoothly.” Michael knew every detail and he was controlling to an extreme. He’d be furious if he found out he was uninformed or misinformed.

Michael sipped his coffee as he looked at the reports for the weekend shifts in the factory. The company was humming like a finely tuned engine. Peter kept track of every nickel that was spent. The two of them made an excellent team. The other executives were good, but they weren’t family. They didn’t have the loyalty that only brothers could possess.

“Send Mayor Davis in.”

“He’ll see you now, Mayor Davis.” She opened the door to Michael’s office and closed it after he went inside.

Michael’s office was like the oval office in the White House. It was fitting for the power that the man behind the chair exerted. It was huge, two walls covered with floor-to-ceiling book shelves, all of them filled with neatly lined-up books as if they were placed more for their size and bindings than their contents. The smell of leather mixed with the smell of smoke—cigarette and cigars. It was a man’s office. Michael’s desk was of the finest wood, over three hundred years old. It was massive. It was covered with papers and files but neatly. Marilyn knew where every one piece of paper was.

Four chairs were parked in front of the desk for those that sought favor or counsel from him. Michael had a large high-back leather chair that was said to have come from the Supreme Court, taken out when the justice that occupied it had died. There was another table with seven chairs for more intimate working meetings, but there was only one chair at the head of it. The hardwood floor had a large dark red carpet that covered half of it.

Michael sat behind the desk in his dark brown suit. It was cut impeccably to his body, and he only wore a suit one day before he had it cleaned. He loved a crisp crease in the pants. Michael worked out religiously an hour before lunch every day. His waist was the same size it was when he was twenty. He looked ten years younger than his forty-five years. All of the Brickfords were handsome. It was a family trait.

“Have a seat, James.” He was a mediocre mayor, but that wasn’t a bad thing. He was easy to control.

“Thanks, Michael. The town is doing well. The river’s rising, but we’re prepared. The north end of town is always susceptible to the river overturning the banks, but no one expects anything different than that.”

“In the future, I might tear down those old houses and build high-end apartments, but until then, the town wouldn’t do much except replace the dirt berms.”

“No need to.” He quickly changed the subject. “I’ve got a person that is hankering to run for mayor.” This was his main reason for coming today.

“Who is it?” It was beginning already. It would be time for him to decide whom to put his money behind for mayor.

“Mason Chambers. You know him from the chamber. He moved here five years ago. He bought the Star Market and turned it around. He knows business.”

Michael knew Mason. He was young, thirty-five, but James was correct. He knew business. “Why does he want to be mayor?”

“He wants to help the town grow?”

That was a noble endeavor but not here. “Does he know politics?”

“No, but he knows what he needs to do to run. He asked me to arrange a meeting with you.”

“He has that pretty wife if I remember correctly. Madeline. She’s a real looker, although I’m not sure why she married him. She could’ve done much better than him.” She was about thirty with an exceptional body, and she knew it. She always turned any man’s head when she passed, and it was for a good reason. He’d caught Michael’s eyes more than once.

“Yes, she supports him running for mayor.”

“He has money, why does he need me?”

“He doesn’t have that much money, and he knows that he can’t beat your pick for mayor if you put your mind to it.”

“Does he know what it means to get my support?”

“He’d be grateful if that’s what you mean.”

“What about Madeline? Will she be grateful and obliging?”

James never had that problem. His wife was attractive but too old for Michael’s taste, so that never came up when he asked for Michael’s support. But, James knew that Michael took advantage of beautiful women, married or not, when he could. “I’ll make sure that Mason and Madeline understand all the ramifications before I set up a meeting with you.”

“Yes, I don’t want to waste my time if they’re not willing to give everything for his campaign.” His cock was hard at the thought of Madeline. She’d be an intriguing challenge. It might make his donation worthwhile for a change. “It’s good to see you, James.” That was the end of their meeting.

It was after lunch that Sheriff Dudley came to meet with Michael. He was a tall, imposing man, even more in his uniform with a pistol strapped around his waist. Marilyn had a bottle of Coke for him—coffee in the morning, Coke after lunch was his preference. He needed the caffeine to keep him going for the long hours he put in, especially on the weekends. He sat in the chair reading a magazine while he waited with a cigarette always in his mouth.

Michael made him wait but not for long. It would be difficult to find someone to replace him. The sheriff knew all the good and the bad people in the town and how to control them. The Shelburne Falls Sheriff’s Department was unforgiving for those that didn’t abide by the law, or at least those that didn’t pay to skirt the laws. His six deputies kept the peace and punished the perpetrators with skill. Sheriff Brett Dudley also assisted Michael with any legal issues he had before they became problems. He took care of all the foreclosures, debt collection and other problems Michael might have with his extensive business endeavors. Michael would join him when there was a beautiful woman involved, either as the debtor or the wife of the debtor. There would be times where Michael would grant extensions of financial problems if he were convinced of the debtor’s sincerity or his wife’s sincerity, but she’d have to convince him, There was only one way she could do that, and that was with her body. Michael got great pleasure in taking women that were reluctant except for the circumstances that drew them into the situation.

“You may go in now, Sheriff Dudley.” She held the door open for him.

Brett barely fit in the chair as he sat before Michael. He started in immediately, for he wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Michael or respect him, but he had better things to do. Running the town’s sheriff department was a tireless job.

“Weekend had the usual problems, but my deputies took care of them quickly and quietly. The businesses near the factory were kept in line.” He grouped them all as businesses—the bars, strip joint, whore house, bookies and diners that catered to the lower class that lived in the north end. Michael owned many of them.

“Yes, I saw the receipts, and it was a good weekend. It’s coming up on payday at the factory, so it should improve greatly this weekend.”

“Yes, it always does.” That was the time when Brett would go around and collect the Shelburne Falls Business Association dues. That is what they called it. The monies supplemented the Sheriff’s Department budget and also the deputy’s payroll. The rest was taken by him, and it was the largest portion. The fee was based on the business type and the gross receipts. Those more borderline illegal or completely illegal paid the most. The downtown merchants that were respectable only paid a token amount. Neither group dared to complain. A few had tried, and they found their business in flames or shut down by the sheriff. It didn’t take long for the others to realize the consequences of refusal.

They talked for fifteen minutes about Michael’s list that he gave Brett that would have to be served in the next month. There was one on the list that Michael would go with Brett to serve. It was debt collection for a young couple. It was a substantial amount in arrears. They had assets that could be confiscated and sold at auction, but Michael hoped the wife had a more practical idea of how to get more time to pay it off.

After Brett had left, Michael went back to work. The factory required a lot of his attention. Peter popped in and out during the afternoon to discuss financial issues. At the end of the day, he got up and looked into Marilyn’s office. “Can you stay late tonight, Marilyn?”

“Yes, Mr. Brickford. No problem.”

“Lock the door at five, as usual, so we’re not disturbed.” He left her with that order.

Marilyn had stayed only one night to type some letters for Michael, but this was different. He didn’t mention anything that she could do ahead of time. Then, there was the locking of the door at five. It wasn’t out of the ordinary, she always did that when she left for the night, but this sounded different. She’d lock the door to keep anyone from coming in. Why the privacy? There was only one reason. She was torn with emotions—fear and excitement at the same time.

Chapter 2
Secretary Submitss

Marilyn had been dressing for this day for a month. At least she knew now it wouldn’t be wasted. The clock ran slowly as if five o’clock would never get here. Finally, she got up from her desk, cleaned off fifteen minutes prior, and went to the door. She locked the door. It clicked so loudly as if everyone could hear it. They were in the penthouse, so only someone coming to see Michael would venture onto the floor. The elevator restricted those who could come up, they had to have either a key for the elevator, or the security guard would have to allow the elevator to go to the third floor. There’d be no one coming up there by accident.

She went into Michael’s office, and he looked as impatient as she was. He was staring at the door when she walked in as if he waited for her. “What do you need, Mr. Brickford?”

“Just for tonight, call me Sir.” He stood up and looked at her. She wore a green skirt that went to her knees, but it clung to her hips and ass like a second skin. The silk blouse was a light green pattern, but all he saw was her luscious tits. She stood up perfectly straight, her back arched slightly but only to push her breasts out more pronounced. He loved the stockings she wore with the seam perfectly in line as if they pointed up under her skirt. He couldn’t wait to see what was beneath everything. She didn’t move, but she looked at him as he walked behind her. Then, she stared ahead as if she knew what he was about to do.

She held her breath as he came close. She could smell his aftershave as if she nibbled on his neck. He was behind her as she waited. “AAAHHH!” It still shocked her although she expected it. His body pushed up against her, but it was his cock that she felt as though it stuck out the front of his pants. She could feel it move against her as his hands went around her waist. She expected his hands to slide up and cup her breasts. Her nipples were hard in anticipation. She looked down as his hands were in front of her breasts, but they didn’t touch them. She wanted to arch her back and push them into his hands, but that was too bold, so she waited. She was surprised when he started to unbutton her blouse as if it was the most natural thing to do. His fingers were nimble as the buttons opened up with ease until he got to her waist. He pulled the blouse out of her skirt and pulled it open wide. His head leaned over as he took in the sight of her breasts cradled exotically in her lacy green bra that matched her panties. The bra was cut low to leave a generous amount of her cleavage exposed. Her nipples ached they were so hard. They wanted to be touched.

He pulled her blouse off her shoulders and down her arms. He grabbed it before it fell to the floor and neatly folded it and placed it on a chair. He looked at her and was impressed with her breasts. They were everything he expected.

She was confused now, not sure what to expect. He went behind her again, but this time, his hand went to her waist. That is when she felt his hand touch her naked skin to send shivers through her body. His hand was on the waistband of her skirt, and he made short work of the single button. The sound of the zipper sliding down sounded like an earthquake in the silent room. He held the skirt for a moment. She was exposed to him to her waist, but the skirt falling away would leave her in her bra and panties. They were silky and thin, meant to entice, not to conceal.

“Step out of your skirt,” Michael ordered her as he released the skirt and bent down to take it off her feet. He folded it neatly on the chair with her blouse. Then, he turned his attention back to her. His cock was rock hard when he saw her. She was every bit enticing beneath her clothes that she still had on. The bra and panties were a matching green, frail lace that concealed what lay beneath them. Her bra was pointed to contain her large breasts. Her panties were molded to her flesh. His eyes took in the garter belt she wore with the light-colored stockings with the black seam up the back. He walked around her to take in the sight of her lush ass. Her twin buttocks were firm, split by her lovely crack. Her legs were long and lean, the muscles taut by the high heels she stood on. He could see her body shake. Is it fear or excitement she feels?

“You have a lovely body, Marilyn.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she remembered to call him that. “No man has ever seen it like this before,” she admitted.

“I’m privileged.”

She didn’t know what he’d do next. Suddenly, he moved away from her, but he sat on one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Come over here, Marilyn. I’m going to spank you.” He saw the shocked look on her face.

She didn’t know what she did wrong to deserve a spanking. It took her by surprise. She didn’t know if it was punishment for her or pleasure for him. She expected it was the latter. She didn’t know the ways of experienced men, but she was sure that Michael intended to teach her. She felt the wetness between her legs, unexpected but not unwelcome. She walked the few steps to him. His arms were outstretched to help her, for she expected she’d be bent over his lap. Her buttocks would be exposed to him to not only spank, but also to fondle or explore at will.

It was difficult to bend over his lap and balance on heels, but he never told her to take them off. His hands were all over her body as he helped her lay over his lap. The first she thing she felt was his erection push into her pussy as her body lay on his. He pushed down on her back and forced her head toward the floor. Her chestnut brown hair fanned out in front of her. She was bent submissively over his lap, his hand on her back. She kept her legs tightly clenched together. “AAAAHHH!” He took her by surprise again when his hand moved to her buttocks. It slid over her back and buttocks gently. It didn’t stop when he touched her buttocks as it continued to move as he explored her intimately. It sent shivers up her spine when his fingers ran up her crack, not expecting a man to touch her in such a place, but Michael seemed to have a fascination with her buttocks, all of them.

The muscles in her buttocks trembled beneath his touch, yet he only caressed, not spanked. His cock was rubbed so lovingly when she squirmed on his lap, but that only made him more eager to make her move more briskly. There was one sure way to do that. He put his other hand high in the air, his large palm opened. He sent it crashing down on one buttock with such power. There were two sounds, the sound of his hand as it hit her buttock and her shrill cry.


“OOOOOWWWWW!” It shocked her when his fondling hand became much harsher. Her buttock burned where his palm had landed. It still stung in spite of his hand leaving. She never realized a spanking could burn so much. The pain shot to the depths of her buttocks. But before he spanked her again, his hand returned to caress her buttocks softly as though he tried to ease the pain that he’d caused. It didn’t take long before he changed once again.


Her other buttock was the recipient of his large hand. The pain radiated out from where his palm sat on her buttock.

He could feel the muscles in her buttock tremble beneath his touch. The skin was heated where his hand hit her hard. The tight panties pulled over her firm buttocks were so enticing. He began to caress once again.

Marilyn welcomed his hand caressing her buttocks, for it soothed away the pain of his spanking. She knew he enjoyed this, for each time he struck her flesh, his cock jerked in sync with the smack that rang out in his office. His fingers grew bolder, pushing the edges of her panties aside to expose more of her bare buttocks. It wasn’t long before her panties were pushed into her crack and both buttocks were naked and subjected to a bare-bottom spanking. The harder he hit, the more she squirmed and gave him the pleasure he sought. Her pain increased his pleasure.

Her white buttocks were now a pretty pink. He could almost make out his handprint on the delicate flesh, or maybe it was his imagination. His cock was rock hard from her rubbing against it.

She was glad when he helped her off his lap. The blood had rushed to her head for too long and her buttocks burned from the spanking. When she stood up, she couldn’t fail to notice that the front of her panties were damp. She didn’t understand how a spanking could do that. She pulled her panties from her crack to cover her buttocks once again.

Michael picked up the Polaroid camera that she’d bought for him under his instructions. It was one of those new cameras that spit out instant pictures in minutes. There was no taking the film to get developed. It allowed complete privacy. She didn’t realize its purpose until now.

“I’m going to take some pictures of you, Marilyn. I want sexy and revealing,” he instructed her.

She feared where the pictures might end up, but she could do nothing but submit. He placed her on his desk, the first time he’d ever cleaned it off. She was stretched out on her side, facing forward, her legs coyly clenched, her back arched to push her breasts out for the impersonal camera.

The flash snapped brightly, and the sound of the picture shooting out broke the silence. He put it on the table to develop while he continued to pose her. The poses were revealing, but she was glad at least that she had her bra and panties still on. She had to spread her legs wide while she stood there, her panties pulled tightly over her mound. From the back, she was just as revealing.

Then, Michael concentrated on her breasts. He had her bend over his desk, her head held up high, but her breasts pushed out provocatively. The next picture was when her bra straps were slid down her arms and more of her cleavage was revealed. She knew it wouldn’t be long before he’d want to see all of her breasts, and she was correct.

“Open your bra, but hold it over your breasts. For now.” She revealed a lot of her breasts, but the next picture would capture it all. “Take off your bra. Stand up and link your hands behind your back. Arch your back and reveal those lovely tits for me.” They were everything he expected and more. She had large, dark areolas that surrounded pink nipples that were already hard. She might not have done this before, but she grew aroused at doing it. The camera clicked incessantly to capture every inch of her flesh that was revealed.

She wished he’d touch her nipples instead of taking pictures. She longed for the touch of a demanding hand to take possession of them. Her nipples throbbed with blood. She was naked to the waist, and he still hadn’t touched her.

“Now the panties, Marilyn. I want to see your pussy.” He grew more eager now to see her in all her glory.

She was glad she wore her panties over the garter belt, so she could take them off with ease. For a virgin, she had wild, exotic thoughts, and she hoped that Michael appreciated her efforts. She blushed when she started to pull her panties down. Michael kneeled, poised with the camera to take a most intimate picture of her.

Her brown bush was neatly trimmed. Marilyn’s pussy lips were full and pouty. They pulled tightly over her slit to protect her virginity. He took five pictures before he could stop. Then, his eyes took in her virgin beauty. “Turn around.” He loved her ass. He put in more film so he could capture her naked ass. He didn’t make her spread her legs and open up her cheeks or pussy lips for the camera. At least not this day.

He had her naked, and now, she wondered and feared what he’d do. He put the camera away, but she saw the mass of pictures laid out on the table of her, all revealing her intimately. He stood in front of her, and she couldn’t help but notice that the front of his pants bulged with his erection.