His hand held her head to the wall, hard. His other hand pulled sharply at her short cotton skirt, jerking it down from her waist, down her hips, and leaving it to fall to the floor at her ankles. White skirt. White tile floor. White stilleto’s now hidden. Red wall. Red face. Red ass, as he began spanking her. Same cheek. Same force. Not anger. Not moodiness. Just steady, rhythmic slapping.
God it hurt. Tears began to swell and fall, even as her asscheek swelled. Her cheek, pressed so tight to the wall felt hot and red as well, both cheeks, same side, both reddened by his hand.
When he was done, he turned away. Went back into the living room, taking his cooling cup of coffee with him to watch the morning news.