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stare at him, her mouth open in surprise. “No you're not,” she shook her head emphatically. “I might not be as old as you, but I'm not a child for you to discipline.”
    “Incorrect,” he snapped. “You're in my care and you're under my roof. I want you to have something to remember next time you decide you know what's best.”
    “I do have something to remember. The Russians!”
    “They didn't dissuade you in the morning, why should they dissuade you now?” He sat down next to her and began unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves. She watched with stunned horror as he rolled his shirt sleeves up, exposing powerful forearms covered with thick, dark hair. “Over you go,” he said, patting his knee.
    “No, you can't be serious,” Eve shook her head and shrank away.
    “I saw the look in your eye when I found you in that apartment, Evelyn. I saw how proud of yourself you were at the idea you'd gotten away with disobeying me. You need to learn that there are consequences for crossing me.” He spoke in even, measured tones, holding her attention with his slate gray eyes.
    “But this... this is ridiculous,” she spluttered. “This is what you do to children when they misbehave.”
    “And to grown women when they behave like willful brats,” Kirk nodded, taking her by the wrist. “Come along, time to go over my lap.”
    “No!” She tried to resist, but she did not have the strength to do so. He was so much larger than her. So much more powerful. He managed to wrangle her over his lap in one smooth movement, settling her over his hard thighs.
    “Don't worry, little Evelyn,” he purred. “If it is such a childish punishment then a big girl like you should be able to take it without any trouble at all.”
    She was not afforded an opportunity to argue the validity of the point he'd made, for he immediately began slapping his open palm across her bottom. The skirt she wore offered far less protection than she'd imagined, and the slapping hurt much more than she thought it would. Each slap stung her cheeks, making her buck her hips in a way that made her blush with its lewd overtones. He had her firmly in his power and he was making sure that she knew it.
    “I don't like being played with, Evelyn,” he lectured her as his hand fell in a rhythmic tattoo against her bottom. “You will always be honest with me, and that means telling me what you really think and feel, not hiding your intentions behind a pretty facade of cooperation.”
    “Okay, I want you to stop hitting me!” Eve gasped, grasping at the leg of his suit trousers as his palm smacked her bottom with an especially hard blow that jolted her forward into his thighs.
    “I bet you do,” Kirk said grimly. “But you earned this, little girl. You disobeyed me and you thought you'd get away with it. Well in this house there are consequences. In this house, you obey me.” He was hammering the point home both in word and deed as he picked up the pace of the spanking, giving her no chance to reply in between her squeals of pain.
    Eve was mortified. She'd never been subject to this kind of discipline before. Indeed discipline had always been lacking in her life. What little self discipline she'd managed to scrape together had been funneled into her native talents of trickery and subterfuge. The fact that Kirk saw through her demure act and addressed her behavior rather than her portrayal of her behavior was most disturbing to her.
    He did not spank her for very long, in fact only thirty or so swats landed on her bottom, but his point had been made. He was a ruler absolute. When she was finally permitted to scramble free, her face was flushed, her hair mussed and falling into her eyes. She tried to right herself, to regain her lost dignity, but no matter how much she smoother her hair and straightened her skirt, it wasn't possible. He'd done something irrevocable. He'd held her down and shown her that he truly was in control. Games and disobedience would not