The fingers withdrew all too soon, leaving her empty and ready to cry out in misery. Mercer, though, did not seem like he was done with her. Instead, he strode back to his desk. He swept aside rolls of paper, quills, and a candleholder with a thankfully unlit candle, sending them scattering all over the floor. Then, with a firm hand on the back of her neck, he led Laverna to the desk and pushed down until she was unceremoniously bent over it like any common kitchen girl in a tavern cellar.
She ended up with her face almost pressed into the ledger, so closely that the upside down writing turned into a blur in her eyes. Then she had to grasp the edge of the desk for support, because Mercer's boot had wedged itself between her bare legs and was insistently pushing her feet apart.
”Damn this rag”, he muttered behind her, and she felt another pull and heard the dress tear further. The slight chill on her newly bared skin was unmistakable, and her entire body grew hot and heavy when she realized he had bared her to the waist.
”Now this”, he said, stepping back to admire his handiwork, ”this I like. Just as I thought you would be. But I'm usually right about these things.”
For a moment, it was quiet. Too quiet. Laverna was sure she could feel his stare, wanted to writhe and squirm to ease the feel of it, or claw at the desk, beg, anything.
Her frenzied thought flow was cut short by a loud smack.
The sound was what registered first. Sharp, unexpected, it caused her to make a small shriek. Right on its heels came the pain in the round, fleshy body part that had been at the receiving end.
”Y-you... slapped me”, she stammered, surprised.
”That's right. And I'm going to do it again. Why?” Here he paused for another slap, as hard and loud as the first. ”Because it amuses me.”
Yet another slap, which hurt even more than the previous ones on her already tender flesh. She remembered, faintly, one of the men who had courted her back home, giving her a few fumbling pats on the rump. She had not thought much of it, or him, and dismissed the idea. But this... this hurt.
Somehow, inexplicably, it made her even hotter while it did. She felt a wet trickle down her inner thigh and bit her lip to hold back a whimper.
”Not red enough for my taste yet.”
The words were followed by more hard slaps, raining down on her in rapid succession, the raw, stinging pain of each piling on top of the others until it felt like she was on fire from the waist down. It was too much, she couldn't help it, she had to reach back and try to protect herself –
Quick as a fox, Mercer grabbed her wrist and planted her hand back on the desk.
”Your hands stay down”, he said darkly, ”or I'll make them stay down. Your choice.”
”Please.” Her voice didn't sound like her own at all. ”Please, no more. Hurts.”
Through the haze of need and ache, she thought she heard a quiet groan.
”It's supposed to hurt.”
He bent over her, enclosed her between his body and the desk, unyielding hardness on both sides. Swept sweaty hair off the back of her neck. Planted a gruff remark right into her brain and her nerve endings:
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timeasmymeasure
Re: Simple Instructions, 5/?
Date: 2012-08-27 05:12 pm (UTC)She ended up with her face almost pressed into the ledger, so closely that the upside down writing turned into a blur in her eyes. Then she had to grasp the edge of the desk for support, because Mercer's boot had wedged itself between her bare legs and was insistently pushing her feet apart.
”Damn this rag”, he muttered behind her, and she felt another pull and heard the dress tear further. The slight chill on her newly bared skin was unmistakable, and her entire body grew hot and heavy when she realized he had bared her to the waist.
”Now this”, he said, stepping back to admire his handiwork, ”this I like. Just as I thought you would be. But I'm usually right about these things.”
For a moment, it was quiet. Too quiet. Laverna was sure she could feel his stare, wanted to writhe and squirm to ease the feel of it, or claw at the desk, beg, anything.
Her frenzied thought flow was cut short by a loud smack.
The sound was what registered first. Sharp, unexpected, it caused her to make a small shriek. Right on its heels came the pain in the round, fleshy body part that had been at the receiving end.
”Y-you... slapped me”, she stammered, surprised.
”That's right. And I'm going to do it again. Why?” Here he paused for another slap, as hard and loud as the first. ”Because it amuses me.”
Yet another slap, which hurt even more than the previous ones on her already tender flesh. She remembered, faintly, one of the men who had courted her back home, giving her a few fumbling pats on the rump. She had not thought much of it, or him, and dismissed the idea. But this... this hurt.
Somehow, inexplicably, it made her even hotter while it did. She felt a wet trickle down her inner thigh and bit her lip to hold back a whimper.
”Not red enough for my taste yet.”
The words were followed by more hard slaps, raining down on her in rapid succession, the raw, stinging pain of each piling on top of the others until it felt like she was on fire from the waist down. It was too much, she couldn't help it, she had to reach back and try to protect herself –
Quick as a fox, Mercer grabbed her wrist and planted her hand back on the desk.
”Your hands stay down”, he said darkly, ”or I'll make them stay down. Your choice.”
”Please.” Her voice didn't sound like her own at all. ”Please, no more. Hurts.”
Through the haze of need and ache, she thought she heard a quiet groan.
”It's supposed to hurt.”
He bent over her, enclosed her between his body and the desk, unyielding hardness on both sides. Swept sweaty hair off the back of her neck. Planted a gruff remark right into her brain and her nerve endings:
”That was the test. Now for the reward.”