14. All The Way Down

**MAEVE

The craziest tingle ran right up my back, interrupting the shiver that had preceded it. My breath caught all over again, but not for the same frightened reason it had before.
“What are you…going to do?” I asked shakily, even though I was not remotely interested in what was coming for me.
“Something swift and simple,” Xander replied. His tone was so soft, and yet tinged with the warning in a way that was at once both frightening and yet oddly comforting. “I have no intention to hurt you, Maeve, but rest assured, it’s a lesson worth remembering.”
I opened my mouth to speak, trying to come up with anything worth refuting but came up empty. It was indeed wrong of me to break into his personal space and invade his secrets, but…
The rest of my silent argument died down my parched throat when he smoothly walked past me and into the kitchen, to pluck an accessory of the rack.
Wooden spoon.
Surely, he didn’t mean to…
“Since this is a first time,” he said, cutting into my thoughts. “I am going to use this. To figure out the rest, I will let you use your imagination.”
Unable to comprehend the chaos in my head, I eyed the spoon in his hand and then gazed back at him. “That’s… that’s wrong, you know.”
Xander’s eyes were stony and held a different kind of resolve. The kind which told me that he was not going to back down so easily. And the words that came out of his lips next sealed the belief.
There was an audible grim sigh from his lips. “You have tried my patience more than I could count on my fingers. Maeve, you are lucky it’s not a strap or a belt, and just a spoon.”
Every cord of tension in my body shook. The sting aside, the humiliation would alone kill me. I was a grown-up, for god’s sake, and not a delinquent child. Xander had already spanked me, and instead of the sting and hurt, the palpitating feelings bothered me even more. I could even remember the chronology of thoughts for the life of me, and it was troubling.
I slowly, “Can we…please…have any other settlement?” I tried to bargain.
“Are you suggesting cops?”
“No!” The answer was too quick. “I just don’t want to be hurt.”
Xander shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “Nobody ever died of a wooden spanking, not at least that I know of. Goddess! What do you think I would do to you?”
My eyes narrowed curiously. “Goddess?” I echoed.
There was a swift change in his expression, but I did catch it on time. He was, indeed, trying to rectify something. But what? And why does he always speak in riddles?
“It’s just semantics,” he corrected as if it was nothing.
People either say ‘Oh, God,’ or something like the F-word. Who says, Goddess?
“Maeve, I asked for consent. Yes or no?” The gravelly voice dragged me out of my musings as I blinked up to his towering frame. Good lord, the sheer size of him was unnerving.
“What if…I say no?” I chanced.
A solemn look dawned over him, indicating whatever he was going to say shouldn’t be taken as otherwise. “I promised no cops, but I have to complain to the building manager. I will still make sure there will no cops involved, but you will most likely have to find a new place.”
Why did the idea of being away from him seem so disconcerting? Shouldn’t I be exacting…relieved?
A buzz zinged from head to toe, rendering me utterly incapable of making the right call and letting my heart decide for the brain.
“Yes…” I somehow managed to find my voice at the nick of time, blurting out like a squeak. “I will. And then it’s forgotten, right?”
“You have my word,” he vowed sincerely.
“Okay,” I sighed. “Let’s get it over with.”
A corner of his mouth lifted, indicating a joyless half-smile. “Funny, I wished our circumstances were less…stringent.”
“I…don’t understand. Why do you always speak in riddles?” I asked.
He gave me an arched look and shook his head. “Someday, I will explain it to you, but for now, let’s get to it. I want you to bend over the seat of the chair, hold the legs for support. Oh, and shorts down, please.”
Very simple. Very serious. Very to the point.
A heap of dread and thrill filled me as I gaped at him incredulously. “Shorts…down?”
Xander nodded like it was the most casual thing in the world to pull your shorts down in front of your neighbor. “You can keep the shorts on, but then I am going to use my belt instead of a wooden spoon. And I am also letting you keep your panties on…” he paused, “…assuming, you are wearing one right now?
“Yes!” she squeaked out, shutting my eyes. I was sure the slow flush of shame had already painted my cheeks red.
“Good. In that case,” he gestured at the chair with an outstretched hand, “…help yourself.”
It had to be some divine force working through me that I found the courage to make my way over to the chair and, with trembling and sweaty fingers, managed to unbutton my shorts. Looking over my shoulder, I threw a final glance at Xander, who offered no reprieve at all.
And instead, he added, “All the way down.”
I felt as blank as someone who jumps into a pool of freezing cold water, despite weighing the circumstances. Shorts unzipped, as gravity had them puddling around the ankles, I slowly draped myself over the seat. Despite the healthy distance, I could feel the heat of his gaze slithering all over my naked skin.
“Breathe,” he commanded, just as soon a heavy hand rested above my tailbone.
“I am…trying.”
I heard a soft chuckle. And came the actual sound. The wooden spoon came thrashing down my buttocks, catching both the cheeks so meticulously, it left like Xander was a professional spanker rather than a bar owner.
“Goddamn it!” I yelped, almost jerking up, but the weight of his hand pressed me back down.
“No, stay where you are.”
Like I had a choice.
The implement thrashed left, right and center, almost rhythmically and sorely until my voice was limited to nothing but squeaks and yelps.
“This should deter you from breaking into my place again,” he said, delivering a whack for every word spoken like he was truly trying to drive the message home.
“I am sorry!” The apology came out unconsciously as if it was an automatic habit rather than a deliberate action on my part.
“Well, I am sorry too that I have to do this,” he said while painting my ass in crimson. The discomfort would hardly lessen before another flurry of smacks landed, catching the sit-spots.
But above all, was a mixed feeling of arousal and thrill coursing through me. Yes, there was shame too, but somehow the ache was beginning to spread between my legs and tingled in unexplored areas.
“Ow, ow, ow!”
“...did you even listen, Maeve?” he asked sternly.
*Wait, when did he speak now?*
“What?” Another half a dozen spank cracked, almost making me grunt and moan into the kitchen space. “I am sorry I wasn’t listening!”
The spanking stopped, and in the hope that it was finally over, I tried to rise.
“I didn’t ask you to move,” Xander said, holding me in place as I craned my head and watched him bent down a little. To my utter dismay, the hand still holding the spoon reached out to grab the shorts between my legs and swiftly yanked in away.
“What…what are you doing?” I asked, half-panic, half-lost.
Xander casual straightened and hooked a hand around my knee and widened my stance. And before I could actually snap my thighs together, he slapped the spoon twice against the inner portion in a warning. “Keep them spread, Maeve,” he ordered, his voice dropping lower, his tone laced with steel as my name rolled out of his tongue.
Shame and lust both burned my insides, scalding, and pulsating the core.
*God, make it stop. Or not.*
New blows peppered against the inner thighs as I silently whimpered and rode the erotic pain and dull ache until it finally stopped. It seemed like ages, but it did. A wave of emotions crowded, numbing my brain just as my heart hammered in my chest.
And all I could do was lay there and let the tears stream down my eyes for a reason completely unknown. *Pain or shame?* I wouldn’t know.
I heard him discard the spoon somewhere, rattling against the floor, and then two very capable hands pulled me up. My legs felt like jelly, only supported by his hold.
“Look at me.”
I could only shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut. For me, all things considered, I was an utter mess right now.
“If I could do one thing right now to make you feel more comfortable, what would it be?” he tried again, much softer and sweeter.
“Hug me, please,” I whispered before I could even take back the words.

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