That skin was just begging to be pinkened.
SALLY SPLAYED HER hands on the floor, trying to stay balanced on Vance’s very muscular thighs. Her pulse had sped up; her skin felt overly sensitive, as if even the air was scraping across it.
When she shifted uncomfortably, he ruthlessly arranged her position so her bottom rose higher in the air. “You know why you’re being punished. Do you have any questions?”
Had she ever seen the guys doing a punishment scene? How bad was this going to get? She turned her head so she could see Galen’s face. “What are you planning to do?”
His expression hardened with disapproval. “I’m not impressed with Z’s lessons for the trainees.”
God, no trainee would ask a question like that. Why did she keep forgetting her self-discipline with these guys? “Sorry, Sir.”
Galen leaned his hip on a corner of the table and regarded her with a grave expression. “Is obedience too much to ask of you?”
The question took her breath away. “No, Sir.” Knowing she’d disappointed them created an ugly feeling in her chest. They’d been kind to her, she’d asked them to be her Doms, and then she kept smarting off. And deliberately disobeyed a direct order.
Did they even like her anymore? She swallowed past a tight throat.
After a minute, Vance laid his hand on her bottom. The warmth sank into her cold skin. “Pretty little ass, don’t you think, Galen?”
“Ayuh.” Galen pulled the empty chair out from the table and moved it so he could rest his injured leg on the bed. Obviously settling in for the show.
She gritted her teeth and prepared for the worst. At one time, she’d thought Vance was the easygoing one. That assumption might have been incorrect.
He stroked and massaged before slapping lightly all over her bottom. She closed her eyes as a kernel of worry sprouted. The care he was taking meant he planned a longer session.
Slap, slap, slap. He worked his way up and down her bottom in sets of three, pausing briefly before hitting harder. As he established his rhythm, the mild sting turned to a burn. To the beginning of pain. But he stopped and returned to rubbing her bottom.
She started to smile. That wasn’t bad at all. Almost erotic. She’d been right after all; Vance wasn’t into dispensing pain. She relaxed, enjoying the slight scrape of his calloused palm over her tenderized flesh.
He leaned forward, reaching toward the table. But the surface had been empty except for…that narrow wooden paddle.
No!
The paddle smacked her right in the sweet spot, the rise of her cheek from the crease of her thigh. The sound was startling, the bite meaner.
She gasped, and her fingers curled, finding only cold wood to hold.
Smack, smack, smack. “You disobeyed us, Sally.” Smack. Smack. Smack. “Didn’t you ask us to take you on?” He paused.
Oh God, he really did plan to punish her. Her breath shuddered into her lungs as his words registered. She’d been the one to ask them. “Y-yes, Sir. I did.”
Smack, smack, smack. “Where we come from, submissives obey their Doms. Is it different in Florida?”
The pain crept in; the blows blurred together, leaving the burn and pain behind. He’d paused so she could answer. What could she say? She hadn’t even tried to obey them. She closed her eyes, feeling like a failure. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad…please. I didn’t mean to make you mad. “No, Sir. I should have obeyed you.”
Smack, smack, smack. “Since we’re just getting to know each other, I’m not all that upset. Or disappointed.”
Her relief actually overcame the pain for a second. Don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me.
“We try not to give many orders. But you’ll learn that we take obedience seriously.”
Smack, smack, smack.
Tears prickled at the back of her eyes. He’d been so good to her. Caring for her after she’d been hurt. “Ready to get off the floor, sweetie?” Holding her so gently after the nightmares. So patient. And look how she’d rewarded him.
Smack, smack, smack.
“If you disobey, you get punished. And not in a sexy, fun way. Is that clear?”
Fire bit into her skin. She tried to blink the tears away; the pain was coming from her heart as well as her skin. “Yes, Sir.”
After setting the paddle on the table, he rubbed her bottom. His hand felt cool against her burning skin.
With a long sigh, she let herself relax. That was it. Not so bad—except for the shame simmering deep inside her. The worry that he’d find her too much trouble.
He could easily find someone who’d work hard to please him. A good submissive.
She let out a breath. She should be relieved that this hadn’t been so bad. Not a deterrent at all. Was that good? Some submissives worried about upsetting their Doms, knowing they’d get an ass walloping nasty enough to make them think twice about—
“Up you go, sweetheart.” Vance helped her stand. Rather than pulling her into his arms for some after comforting, he rose. With a cop’s grip around her upper arm, he led her across the room to Galen.
“Warm-up finished. All yours.” Vance’s words didn’t register for a moment, not until Galen stood up.
Warm-up? That was a warm-up? And Galen would… She shrank back against Vance.
The corner of Galen’s mouth tipped up. “This is the difference between playing at the club and actually having a Dom. Your own Doms will take disobedience a bit more seriously. Because they care enough to make you obey.”
Your own Doms. The phrase ran like liquid sunshine over Sally’s soul before her mind scrambled back behind her defenses. “Are you saying you’ll beat on me because you care?”
Galen’s black gaze softened. “Actually, yes.” He stroked her cheek with his fingertips, holding her gaze with his.
Her breathing stopped. He cared. For me?
And then he took a step back. “Bend over the bed. Rest your weight on your forearms.”
Oh fuck fuck fuck. As she complied, her arms sank down into the puffy blue quilt. The bed was low, positioning her bottom higher.
“Move your feet out.”
She inched her bare feet outward. The position lowered her butt slightly but put more weight on her arms and made it more difficult to stand. More helpless.
He picked up a thin rattan cane. “All right, pet. I’m not going to count. I will continue until I think you’re properly repentant.”
“But I am. I—”
His sigh was loud. “Don’t bother to talk to me. I’m not sure you even know what true remorse means.”
The first slash of the cane struck her bottom and it hurt, blasting across her skin like fire.
No! She tried to stand and realized Vance sat at the foot of the bed. His hand curled over her nape, holding her in place.
Blow after blow smacked into her flesh with a nasty stinging pain. And suddenly, shockingly, she was crying. Hard horrible choking sobs that hurt her throat. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t—didn’t mean to disappoint you. I’m sorry.”
“There we go.” Galen’s voice was rougher than normal, raw as the pain of her skin. “That was repentant.”
Vance released her.
Hard hands mercilessly pulled her onto a lap. Her bottom scraped on the harsh material of jeans, and she tried to jump up—and was pulled back down, secured with muscular, adamant arms. His hand—Galen’s—tucked her head against his shoulder, holding her as she cried.
Her face pressed against his chest, wetting it with her tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again.
“I believe you, pet.” She felt his lips against the top of her head, and the jagged glass fence around her heart began to thaw.
His scent, masculine and rich, wrapped around her, confirming his presence with each breath she took. As the burning subsided, she could feel, even more than his strength, the controlled gentleness with which he held her. How his hand cupped the back of her head. His slow breathing. His patience.
Gradually her crying changed to hiccupping sobs.
Vance sat on the bed and took her hand. “All done, Sally.” He stroked her head and tried to release her hand, but her fingers closed around his.
Stay. Somehow she needed him there—both of them. Their presence was as comforting as having a man in the house if opening the door after dark. Knowing, despite the monsters in the night, that they’d keep her safe.
GALEN FELT THE tightness in his chest ease as Sally clung to him. A true submissive, she wasn’t fuming at her punishment but had let the tears wash away her shame and free her from guilt.
When he checked Vance, his partner made a small rotation of his shoulder. No trouble interpreting that unhappy movement.
Galen too, had been surprised at how long it had taken to break through her defenses. This one didn’t cry easily. And he hadn’t liked administering the last few strokes needed to push her there. He liked erotic pain—and maybe a touch beyond—but this had gone past his comfort level.
But apparently she’d forgiven them both, and damn, she was wonderful to hold.
As Sally’s breathing evened out, Vance rummaged through the fridge to get bottled waters. He drank one and set Galen’s on the table. After handing Sally one, he plucked her out of Galen’s arms and sat down with her on his lap.
SALLY SPLAYED HER hands on the floor, trying to stay balanced on Vance’s very muscular thighs. Her pulse had sped up; her skin felt overly sensitive, as if even the air was scraping across it.
When she shifted uncomfortably, he ruthlessly arranged her position so her bottom rose higher in the air. “You know why you’re being punished. Do you have any questions?”
Had she ever seen the guys doing a punishment scene? How bad was this going to get? She turned her head so she could see Galen’s face. “What are you planning to do?”
His expression hardened with disapproval. “I’m not impressed with Z’s lessons for the trainees.”
God, no trainee would ask a question like that. Why did she keep forgetting her self-discipline with these guys? “Sorry, Sir.”
Galen leaned his hip on a corner of the table and regarded her with a grave expression. “Is obedience too much to ask of you?”
The question took her breath away. “No, Sir.” Knowing she’d disappointed them created an ugly feeling in her chest. They’d been kind to her, she’d asked them to be her Doms, and then she kept smarting off. And deliberately disobeyed a direct order.
Did they even like her anymore? She swallowed past a tight throat.
After a minute, Vance laid his hand on her bottom. The warmth sank into her cold skin. “Pretty little ass, don’t you think, Galen?”
“Ayuh.” Galen pulled the empty chair out from the table and moved it so he could rest his injured leg on the bed. Obviously settling in for the show.
She gritted her teeth and prepared for the worst. At one time, she’d thought Vance was the easygoing one. That assumption might have been incorrect.
He stroked and massaged before slapping lightly all over her bottom. She closed her eyes as a kernel of worry sprouted. The care he was taking meant he planned a longer session.
Slap, slap, slap. He worked his way up and down her bottom in sets of three, pausing briefly before hitting harder. As he established his rhythm, the mild sting turned to a burn. To the beginning of pain. But he stopped and returned to rubbing her bottom.
She started to smile. That wasn’t bad at all. Almost erotic. She’d been right after all; Vance wasn’t into dispensing pain. She relaxed, enjoying the slight scrape of his calloused palm over her tenderized flesh.
He leaned forward, reaching toward the table. But the surface had been empty except for…that narrow wooden paddle.
No!
The paddle smacked her right in the sweet spot, the rise of her cheek from the crease of her thigh. The sound was startling, the bite meaner.
She gasped, and her fingers curled, finding only cold wood to hold.
Smack, smack, smack. “You disobeyed us, Sally.” Smack. Smack. Smack. “Didn’t you ask us to take you on?” He paused.
Oh God, he really did plan to punish her. Her breath shuddered into her lungs as his words registered. She’d been the one to ask them. “Y-yes, Sir. I did.”
Smack, smack, smack. “Where we come from, submissives obey their Doms. Is it different in Florida?”
The pain crept in; the blows blurred together, leaving the burn and pain behind. He’d paused so she could answer. What could she say? She hadn’t even tried to obey them. She closed her eyes, feeling like a failure. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad…please. I didn’t mean to make you mad. “No, Sir. I should have obeyed you.”
Smack, smack, smack. “Since we’re just getting to know each other, I’m not all that upset. Or disappointed.”
Her relief actually overcame the pain for a second. Don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me.
“We try not to give many orders. But you’ll learn that we take obedience seriously.”
Smack, smack, smack.
Tears prickled at the back of her eyes. He’d been so good to her. Caring for her after she’d been hurt. “Ready to get off the floor, sweetie?” Holding her so gently after the nightmares. So patient. And look how she’d rewarded him.
Smack, smack, smack.
“If you disobey, you get punished. And not in a sexy, fun way. Is that clear?”
Fire bit into her skin. She tried to blink the tears away; the pain was coming from her heart as well as her skin. “Yes, Sir.”
After setting the paddle on the table, he rubbed her bottom. His hand felt cool against her burning skin.
With a long sigh, she let herself relax. That was it. Not so bad—except for the shame simmering deep inside her. The worry that he’d find her too much trouble.
He could easily find someone who’d work hard to please him. A good submissive.
She let out a breath. She should be relieved that this hadn’t been so bad. Not a deterrent at all. Was that good? Some submissives worried about upsetting their Doms, knowing they’d get an ass walloping nasty enough to make them think twice about—
“Up you go, sweetheart.” Vance helped her stand. Rather than pulling her into his arms for some after comforting, he rose. With a cop’s grip around her upper arm, he led her across the room to Galen.
“Warm-up finished. All yours.” Vance’s words didn’t register for a moment, not until Galen stood up.
Warm-up? That was a warm-up? And Galen would… She shrank back against Vance.
The corner of Galen’s mouth tipped up. “This is the difference between playing at the club and actually having a Dom. Your own Doms will take disobedience a bit more seriously. Because they care enough to make you obey.”
Your own Doms. The phrase ran like liquid sunshine over Sally’s soul before her mind scrambled back behind her defenses. “Are you saying you’ll beat on me because you care?”
Galen’s black gaze softened. “Actually, yes.” He stroked her cheek with his fingertips, holding her gaze with his.
Her breathing stopped. He cared. For me?
And then he took a step back. “Bend over the bed. Rest your weight on your forearms.”
Oh fuck fuck fuck. As she complied, her arms sank down into the puffy blue quilt. The bed was low, positioning her bottom higher.
“Move your feet out.”
She inched her bare feet outward. The position lowered her butt slightly but put more weight on her arms and made it more difficult to stand. More helpless.
He picked up a thin rattan cane. “All right, pet. I’m not going to count. I will continue until I think you’re properly repentant.”
“But I am. I—”
His sigh was loud. “Don’t bother to talk to me. I’m not sure you even know what true remorse means.”
The first slash of the cane struck her bottom and it hurt, blasting across her skin like fire.
No! She tried to stand and realized Vance sat at the foot of the bed. His hand curled over her nape, holding her in place.
Blow after blow smacked into her flesh with a nasty stinging pain. And suddenly, shockingly, she was crying. Hard horrible choking sobs that hurt her throat. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t—didn’t mean to disappoint you. I’m sorry.”
“There we go.” Galen’s voice was rougher than normal, raw as the pain of her skin. “That was repentant.”
Vance released her.
Hard hands mercilessly pulled her onto a lap. Her bottom scraped on the harsh material of jeans, and she tried to jump up—and was pulled back down, secured with muscular, adamant arms. His hand—Galen’s—tucked her head against his shoulder, holding her as she cried.
Her face pressed against his chest, wetting it with her tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again.
“I believe you, pet.” She felt his lips against the top of her head, and the jagged glass fence around her heart began to thaw.
His scent, masculine and rich, wrapped around her, confirming his presence with each breath she took. As the burning subsided, she could feel, even more than his strength, the controlled gentleness with which he held her. How his hand cupped the back of her head. His slow breathing. His patience.
Gradually her crying changed to hiccupping sobs.
Vance sat on the bed and took her hand. “All done, Sally.” He stroked her head and tried to release her hand, but her fingers closed around his.
Stay. Somehow she needed him there—both of them. Their presence was as comforting as having a man in the house if opening the door after dark. Knowing, despite the monsters in the night, that they’d keep her safe.
GALEN FELT THE tightness in his chest ease as Sally clung to him. A true submissive, she wasn’t fuming at her punishment but had let the tears wash away her shame and free her from guilt.
When he checked Vance, his partner made a small rotation of his shoulder. No trouble interpreting that unhappy movement.
Galen too, had been surprised at how long it had taken to break through her defenses. This one didn’t cry easily. And he hadn’t liked administering the last few strokes needed to push her there. He liked erotic pain—and maybe a touch beyond—but this had gone past his comfort level.
But apparently she’d forgiven them both, and damn, she was wonderful to hold.
As Sally’s breathing evened out, Vance rummaged through the fridge to get bottled waters. He drank one and set Galen’s on the table. After handing Sally one, he plucked her out of Galen’s arms and sat down with her on his lap.
