Alison's Wonderland by Alison Tyler Page B

think we can put on a better one together,” I whisper as I turn toward him. I cup his balls and walk my fingers back to the sensitive strip of flesh between his legs. Stroking him there always stops any conversation short.
    He sighs and his thighs ease open. “So, what were you thinking about when you were doing it?”
    My fingertips pause on their journey back to tease his ass crack—which would surely have distracted him from unwanted questions. What do I say now? Of course, I’ve shared a few fantasies with him before. Crushes on movie stars. Doing it on the beach. But getting an ass-searing spanking from a lesbian mermaid was something else altogether. Besides, Anton was a swimmer in high school—his team came in third in the state finals. If he knew his doggie-paddling wife had nautical yearnings, he’d probably laugh himself silly.
    “I wasn’t thinking about anything,” I say. Even I know it sounds unconvincing.
    “Come on.”
    “It’s true.”
    Anton closes his legs, forcing me to pull my hand away. “You know, we had a presentation about people like you in the seminar today.”
    His tone is playful, but I feel my body tense. “What do you mean?”
    “Difficult employees. They’re a challenge. And I have to say your performance as my love slave leaves a lot to be desired right now. But the facilitator explained that each employee has a different working style and if the manager modifies hiscommunication tactics to meet those needs, the result can be a mutually beneficial outcome.”
    I can’t restrain a derisive snort. “You’ve lost me there, honey. Can you put that in words your more simpleminded workers can understand?”
    What happens next catches me totally unawares. Anton plants a nice smarting slap right on my ass. Which is not nearly as surprising as what follows: an embarrassing gush of wetness between my legs and my involuntary cry of pure arousal.
    I swallow hard and look away, struggling to pull myself together. “Is this what they’re teaching you in that seminar?” It’s meant as a clever comeback, but my voice is husky and my heart is pounding.
    Anton tilts my chin up. Our gazes lock. He knows. My whole body blushes with arousal and shame.
    “Were you thinking about having sex with someone else?”
    It’s my chance to confess and come clean, but perversely, I shake my head.
    He slaps my ass again.
    “Tell me the truth.”
    I wonder, fleetingly, if this new managerial tone will have the same effect on his employees as it has on me. By now I’m so aroused I can barely breathe.
    “I…can’t do that,” I stutter.
    “Then,” he replies, his voice calm, “we can both agree that you need serious disciplinary measures. Pull down your pants and lie on your stomach.”
    I’m his love slave, I have to obey. Hands shaking, I struggle out of my shorts and panties and position myself as instructed. He reaches under my T-shirt and takes my nipple between his fingers. In a perfectly timed motion, he tweaks my nipple just as the first smack lands square on my ass.
    I grind my pelvis into the mattress and groan.
    He spanks me again. A wave of heat rolls from my cunt tomy nipple and back again. The bed is already soaked and my ass cheeks burn, as if they’ve been baked under the glowing orange coils of a toaster oven.
    Instinctively I push my buttocks up for another.
    “Forget it,” Anton says. “No more until you tell me what you were thinking about while you were fingering your pussy. In detail.”
    I gulp. I’m too worked up to think of a good lie now. But what would he do if he knew what really went on in my head?
    “It’s kind of…kinky.”
    “All the more reason I should know. Girls who think about kinky things need a spanking to teach them a lesson,” he insists.
    Well, if he’s going to put it that way, what else can I do?
    “It was sort of a lesbian fantasy.”
    “You were doing it with another girl?” His tone is even, utterly professional. I have no clue what his