He pinched her nipples, hard. She moaned and arched her back toward him, pressing her rear into his jumpsuit. She felt him. He reached an arm around and squeezed her throat, not choking, just controlling. He pressed his face up to her ear, “Don’t you embarrass me again,” he muttered. She stiffened, reached back and grabbed his manhood.
“I won’t,” she promised, her voice quiet. Her breathing grew heavier. He focused his attention on her breasts, inflicting his pain there, while he bit hard on her shoulder. “Aaaah!” she muttered.
O’Conner pushed back then, as if he snapped out of the erotic moment, and attacked her ass with a flurry of new blows, smacking her bottom open-palmed again and again without slowing down or stopping. “Oh God, O’Conner!” Steph pleaded. He eased up, rubbing her cheeks. Then he grabbed a handful of her flesh, squeezing the sweet spots, digging in with both hands, his carefully trimmed fingernails digging in. “Owwww…”
He grabbed her by the waist then and pulled her away from the wall, the two floating in the compartment. He twisted beside her, facing away from her, and said, “I want you to count how many strokes I give you. Can you do that?” There was a pause, then a quiet, “Yes.”
He began swatting her again, sometimes with his middle finger striking exactly on the sweet spot, sometimes open-palmed, sometimes cupped, sometimes thuddy, sometimes stingy. He varied tempo. Paused. Launched into a high-speed flurry. Stopped. Then methodically hit like a metronome. He stopped.
“How many?” he asked.
“Uh…” Steph thought, her mind panicked. What if I get it wrong? “Uh… 48?”
“No,” O’Conner replied. “52. You were waaay off.”
“What happens now?” Steph asked, sniffling.
“We do it again.” O’Conner launched into another volley of spanks. This went on for a few minutes until he asked her again. “Oh shit,” Steph replied, mind racing. “Uh…65?”
There was a long pause.
“No, Steph,” O’Conner said, and Steph openly sobbed at that. “It was 66.”
“I was only one off! Only one!”
“True, but not right.” And he went at it again. Steph thought she was going to really lose it. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. A few released and floated in front of her face. O’Conner’s torque from the spankings had sent them into a sort of spin in the cabin and he bumped his back into a protruding set of knobs, hard. “FUCK!” he yelled, stopping.
Steph turned and looked at him. “What?” He grabbed his back and she saw his face contorted in pain and couldn’t help but laugh through the streaming tears.
“What the fuck are you laughing at!?” he yelled.
“Nice to see you in a little bit of pain,” she said, wiping her eyes. She felt the scene had ended somehow.
O’Conner laughed then. “Okay,” he said, rubbing the spot on his back. “Touché.” Grabbing a hold, he repositioned himself to face her and she turned to face him. “You deserved that,” he said. She wrapped her arms around him.
“So did you,” she said, motioning to his back. He glared at her, then his look softened. He pulled her toward him and kissed her on the mouth, not for the first time this mission. “Are you okay?” she asked, concerned.
“It’ll be fine,” he replied.
“I won’t embarrass you again, Commander,” she said, pushing away from him so she floated slowly, her breasts pointing at him playfully. “By the way, when do we get to test that new gravity unit?”
“Scheduled for 0900 hours,” he said.
“Want to give it a go a little early?” she said, a raffish smile creeping up on her lips.