She gazes ahead and pulls her soulders back, breathing deeply to manage the flash of heat acros her ass. "Where has your big bad attitude disappeared to, sweetie?" His breath is hot against the nape of her neck and his fingers rake a trail of goosebumps up the back of her thigh, past the cleft of her cheek, rumpling the pleats of her skirt. "Hmm? Answer me." He demands, smacking her exposed cheek hard, once, then rubbing firm, slow circles on the sore spot, making her flinch.

Her reply is muffled by the ball gag and he laughs. "Oh yes, you can't right now." He chuckles and stroking her hair. "It's probably better that you can't speak right now, because we both know you'd only say something provocative," he clenches the hand in her hair slowly to a fist, pulling, her back into an arch.

She fights to keep her palms flat on the desk, to avoid further punishment. "So, tell me, Princess, are you ready to be a good girl for me?" He asks. She nods, straining against his grip. "Good. Now, was that so hard?" He lets go of her hair and plucks the ball from between her lips, releasing a single trail of saliva.

She takes a deep breath, "no, but you've gone soft, if you call that a spanking..." she says sweetly, smiling wickedly. He places two fingers under her chin, turns her head to face him, making her look him in the eyes, and kisses her softly on the lips. He lets go of her chin, picks up the ball and presses it to her lips, daring her with his eyes, to resist.