Fated Mate Conquered - Luna Voss Page 0,4

being a good girl,” he warns me.

My mouth stays closed. I won’t let him have the satisfaction.

“Okay, have it your way,” says Turan, sounding more amused than annoyed, and I feel his hand slide under my skirt and start to push it up to my waist.

“Nooo,” I protest, trying to stop him. “Turan!”

“I told you what would happen,” he growls, pinning my arms easily behind my back. “Next time, try making better decisions.”

I feel utterly exposed as the small layer of fabric covering my rear end is removed, revealing the lacy, almost see-through pair of panties I bought in Dartyr last week. There’s nothing I can do to stop Turan as his hand returns to my ass, stroking me over the frilly material.

“Cute panties,” he teases me, his fingers passing dangerously close to the crease between my cheeks. I feel my pussy give an excited twitch, the reaction unexpected and completely unbidden. The fact that Turan is getting to look at me in my sexy new underwear makes me feel all sorts of things.

Slap! Turan spanks me firmly, his hand lighting up my right ass cheek. Then he does the same thing to the left, and then switches back. He keeps alternating, his pace slow, measured, almost methodical, each stinging slap causing me to yelp.

“When a made member of the Butarza Family gives you an order, what do you do?” he asks me in between spanks.

“I— I listen,” I whimper, my voice trembling.

“What do you call me?” he snarls, spanking me even harder and faster. “What do you fucking call me?”

“Sir!” I gasp, my ass screaming from the bombardment. “I call you sir!”

“That’s right,” growls Turan, and mercifully, the spanking returns to slow and methodical, although it doesn’t stop. “Are you going to disobey the rules again?”

“No… sir,” I answer, my cheeks burning with humiliation. It makes me feel so dominated to call him that.

“Good girl,” he says, slapping my ass. “And why is following the rules you’re given important?”

“Because... safety,” I whimper. “The rules are about safety.”

Turan pauses, and to my relief, the spanking ceases. “Good girl, Kora,” he whispers, and I feel goosebumps spread across the back of my neck. I catch my breath as he returns to stroking my bottom. “Do you feel like you’ve learned your lesson?”

No, I think.

“Yes, sir,” I answer.

He chuckles. “That didn’t sound very convincing. I think a little more spanking will do you some good.”

“Turan,” I plead. “I’m a grown woman. You don’t need to spank me.”

“If that were true, then you wouldn’t have misbehaved. Would you?”

He pauses, and I can tell that I’m meant to answer him.

“Yes?” I try.

Wrong answer. He spanks me with an open hand across both cheeks.

“Let’s try that again,” he says. “You disobeyed orders today, and you think that you don’t need a spanking?”

“No,” I tell him honestly, tensing up in anticipation of another slap to my ass. “I don’t think it’s necessary at all. I went to the Imperial Academy. I know how to follow orders.”

Even though I’m staring at the floor, I can hear the smirk in his voice. “If you know how to follow orders, then why didn’t you?”

I hesitate, my mind momentarily blank. “Because… because I didn’t think it was important. I wanted to explore the city. I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“And that,” says Turan, “is exactly why I’m disciplining you. You didn’t think it was important. Didn’t think it was a big deal. I intend to correct that perception.”

“You already have,” I try to convince him. “Turan, I get it now.”

He laughs. “And yet you’ve already stopped calling me sir.”

My stomach lurches. Dammit.

“You know,” says Turan, “if you had taken the opportunity to correct yourself there, I might have given you some leeway.”

“Sorry, sir,” I say hurriedly, embarrassed at how quickly the words come to my mouth. My ass is burning.

Turan is quiet for a moment while I wait in awful suspense for his next move.

“Kora,” he says finally, something in his voice that I don’t recognize, “I’m going to ask you to stand up for me now and pull down your panties so that I can spank you on your bare bottom.”

Immediately, I feel blood rush to my face. Turan mentioned this earlier, but I’ve been avoiding it mentally, keeping the horrible thought at the back of my mind. That’s private. Nobody gets to see what’s under my panties. I don’t move, pouting silently, refusing to participate.

“Kora,” says Turan, a definite edge in his voice. “I’m not going