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specific. You were supposed to marry an old-
fashioned woman."
"My grandfather never specified that she had to
take my name, only that she needed to be legally
married to me, and that she be spanked on a
regular basis. We are here to prove those facts." He
pulled a copy of the marriage license out of his
jacket's inside breast pocket. "Here's the license.
Next, the spanking."
The lawyer looked away, his face reddening.
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"Uh, you do realize that I need proof that you
actually spanked her, right?" He handed Rafe a
videotape recorder. "You can do what you have to
do in here. When you're done, give me back the
tape. No need for me to, uh, actually witness the
deed."
"We came prepared to prove what we need to
prove. You can watch if that would be more
conclusive, Rafe said.
No, doing it after I leave the room will be fine,
as long as you tape the spanking. As proof, you
understand. I assure you that I will keep the tape
secure."
Hobson looked away, his forehead damp with
sweat. Rafe wasn't certain, but he could swear that
the lawyer was getting off on the whole thing. He
probably secretly wanted to do to his own wife just
what Rafe was doing to Patience. He'd bet his
inheritance that the man would look at the tape
later, many, many times. In private.
Rafe nodded, and the lawyer left the room.
"You know what I have to do now," Rafe said,
opening the attaché case he'd brought with him.
Patience's only response was to bend over the
smooth mahogany table, forearms flat on its
surface.
He set up the recorder before removing a
wooden-backed hairbrush from the case.
"Unfortunately, this will really hurt. But your
spanking has to be convincing."
She shot her gaze at him, but he couldn't read
the meaning hidden there.
Then she said, "I was late. I deserve it." Rafe's
eyes went to her breasts as they rose and fell with
her deep sigh. Even in a gray business suit, the
woman was a knockout, he thought.
"True," he said. "One for each minute. That
comes to sixteen."
He noted her involuntary grimace. If he were
honest with himself, he was a little sorry for having
to spank her hard, and a little pleased that he would
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do so.
As he raised her skirt to reveal her red silk
thong, he said, "Patience, you will count each
smack."
She planted her feet to brace herself. "Yes, sir."
After the first whack, he admired the way her
bottom jiggled its aftershocks, the way the skin
turned pink.
"One," she said, stamping her left foot,
enhancing the jiggle.
He whacked her again. This time, she bobbed
her backside up and down quickly before saying,
"Two."
He laid on a third swat, and she gasped,
"Three."
Rafe continued to spank her, and Patience
continued to count. By the tenth smack, she was
keening her discomfort. Tears had puddled on the
table s smooth surface. He hadn t the heart to
continue. Real tears meant he d accomplished his
task.
Her bottom glowed red when he lay the
hairbrush down. "That's enough."
But instead of grabbing her throbbing cheeks
while standing upright, she planted her feet as she
had in the beginning.
"No. Give me the final six," she sobbed.
"The tape up till now is more than sufficient
proof," he said.
"I want the last six. I was late."
"No," he said.
"Yes."
"Damn it Patience " He thought for a moment.
"All right, you'll get your last six, and four more for
daring to challenge what I think is best for you."
He saw her eyes close as if girding herself for
the harsh kiss of the wood. But instead of the
brush, he placed a light slap in the center of her sit-
spot. Just enough to sting a tiny bit. Rafe knew that
spanking her dead center would enhance her
arousal.
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Her eyes flew open. "Oh! I mean, eleven.
He spanked her again, dead center. She
counted, "Twelve," arching her back as if begging
for the next slap.
He did not disappoint her.
He stroked her burning backside before
delivering each centered spank, and her response
could only be called& erotic. The way she moved
her hips after each smack, the way she repositioned
her behind for the next one, indicated she was
intensely excited.
When he delivered the nineteenth slap, she
grabbed his hand, pressing it between her legs,
moaning. He felt her flesh pulsing through her
panties. He dared a small rub of the area, and was
rewarded by a gasped, "Nineteen."
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