The Kitchen Kink
By Alison Tyler
“This is too hard!”
“That’s what she said.”
“I am the she, James.”
“Then I must be the ‘too hard.’”
I play punched him. “I need the perfect story to kick-start my anthology, and I can’t concentrate.”
“Ah, poor baby. Are you all wet from perusing those naughty little tales?” He bent and kissed the back of my neck. “What exactly are you reading about?”
“Spanking, ball gags, whips, chains, strangers, ménages…”
“All in the same story?”
“No, not all in the same story.”
“Well, maybe that’s your problem.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Everything but the kitchen sink…”
“You mean ‘the kitchen kink.”’
“You’re not an editor,” I sighed dramatically. “You have no idea what it’s like.”
“Try me.”
I handed over a story. James began to read. “Oh, look. She’s going to get a spanking. Again. He just spanked her two seconds ago. Give the poor girl’s bare bottom a rest. She’s not going to be able to sit down for a week as it is.”
“I like that one.”
He riffled through the papers on my desk, then grabbed one and began to skim. “She’s about to blow him. But she just met him. Why would she get on her knees and open her mouth like that? She doesn’t even know his name.”
“You’re so judgmental.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I still don’t understand the issue.”
“I’ve read over a hundred stories, and I’m in that shuffling place. I keep reorganizing—this story should be at the front, this one should be near the end, this is perfect for the middle. But now I’m all conflicted.”
“Maybe I can help.”
I stared down at the papers strewn over my desk. “What do you mean?”
“You’re too close to all this smut. What you need is for me to put you over my lap, give you a nice, hard spanking, make you blow me, tie you down to the bed, and fuck you senseless. Perhaps if I do my job correctly you’ll even forget my name.”
“Tempting, but I have a big deadline.”
“That’s what she said,” he smirked. “But I’ve got something even bigger…” He put my hand on his cock, which I could feel was hard through his Levi’s.
“James, I’m working.”
“Not anymore.” He pulled the chair back from my desk.
“Look at all the stories I have to read.”
“They’ll wait.”
I pointed to the calendar. “My book is due in less than two weeks.”
“Two weeks is a long fucking time.”
He started unbuckling his belt. I set the red pen on the desk. “I guess I could take a short break.”
James grinned and helped me out of my chair.
“But I don’t need a spanking.”
“I’ll decide that,” he said, leading me into the kitchen. I watched as he sat down on one of our wooden chairs, and then I waited. Was he right? Was I so aroused from reading sexy stories that I couldn’t make any headway? And would a spanking actually clear my head or would it only heat my ass?
I was about to find out.
James pulled me over his lap and stroked my rear with one of his big, strong hands. “Are your panties wet from reading the stories or thinking about the spanking I’m going to give you?”
“Both,” I told him honestly.
He let his hand land on my bottom. I didn’t pretend to squeal or twitch. There was no true pain in this type of smack. But then he pushed my yoga pants down my thighs and began to stroke my panty-clad ass. I grew very still. He pulled down my bikini briefs next and started to spank me hard and fast on my bare skin. And what was that? He’d grabbed hold of a wooden spoon. In seconds, all thoughts of work evaporated, so when he asked, “Now, what were you complaining about before?” I had no idea what he was talking about.
“I don’t know,” I murmured.
He spanked me until my ass felt hot and swollen, and then he pushed me down in front of him. “Open your mouth.” He cradled my face with one hand, and I parted my lips. James stood, and I raised myself up on my knees and began to suck his cock. “That’s a good little editor,” he crooned. “Make my cock all nice and wet. You know where it’s going to go.”
My mind stuttered, but I kept my mouth busy.
“I just have to remember where I put the cuffs.”
Christ, he really was going to prove a point, wasn’t he? “They’re in the drawer by the dresser,” I said when I took a breather.
“Good girl.” He pulled away from me and went to get the tools. In seconds, I had my hands cuffed over my head,and James was bending me over the Corian countertop. He’d gotten the lube as well as the cuffs, and I felt him drizzle the slick stuff between the cheeks of my ass.
First, he fucked my pussy. “Damn, you’re wet.” He thrust hard and fast, and I shut my eyes tight, my body practically humming with pleasure. But right when I was on the cusp, he pulled out and pressed the head of his cock against my asshole. I shivered and sucked in my breath.
“Relax, baby. It only works if you submit.”
He was right. His words unlocked me. Calmness stole over my body—the sensation of giving in always brings me peace.
As James drove forward, he said, “Now, what was your problem?”
“I don’t have any problems,” I panted.
He
