Bare Bottom Over The Kitchen Table

In the sunlit kitchen, Iris leans over the wooden table and twists a lock of hair around her finger while the unopened probate envelope sits beside the task list. The fragile partnership they have documented demands that their private discipline remain hidden from outside eyes, yet the pull of his authority threatens the defenses she has built around her heart.

Felix moves behind her, his broad shoulders and corded forearms a solid presence as his hand settles at the small of her back. His low command to stay still hangs in the morning light, and the hem of her skirt begins to lift, the bare bottom spanking discipline he delivers over household surfaces promising to reach the parts of her she has always kept hidden.

How long can she guard her heart when every command makes her want to surrender more?