“I’m not saying you should feel bad, but you’re trying to live two separate lives.”
“So, what do I do?” I ask. It’s only slightly weird that we’re having this deep conversation while I’m cuffed to the wall in my underwear.
“Take him with you. Don’t you think he’d go?”
I do think he would, but that’s half the problem. Am I ready to have that much control over Beau’s life? What if it doesn’t work out? What if he really does cheat on me or starts to resent me for taking him so far from his home?
“I think he would.”
“Then, you must be a good Domme. He trusts you.”
“We’ll see about that after this,” I reply, gesturing to the whips and paddles along the wall.
“Oh yes. Let’s get to it. Okay, I’ll do six of each, and you need to count.”
“Okay,” I reply.
Chills run down my spine as she presses herself to my back, her lips next to my ear as she whispers, “Yes, Madame.”
“Yes, Madame,” I reply with a gulp.
“Let’s get started then.”
It’s quiet for a while, a little too long, as I wait for her to do something. My body tenses, anticipating the first slap of the paddle. I struggle against the restraints, trying to see what she’s doing.
“Deep breath,” she says, and goosebumps erupt across my body. Then I force in a deep inhale. As soon as it releases from my chest, the paddle lands hard against my ass.
Holy shit.
That was worse than I expected, but I do my best to put on a brave face and keep in the scream that’s begging to come out.
“Count,” she barks.
“One,” I mutter through clenched teeth.
“Very good.”
Without warning, she delivers the second blow, and this time, I let out a squeal. My skin starts to prick with heat.
I don’t think I can do this.
“Two…” I say with a hint of fear.
As she inflicts the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth, I slowly start to lose my composure. She holds my attention by giving me little tips as the Domme in between the blows, but I struggle to focus because the pain is blinding. By the time she’s done with the paddle and asks for a color, I quietly whisper, “Yellow.”
“Very good,” she says, gently rubbing my back.
After a few minutes, she comes back and strokes my hair as I rest my forehead against the wall. “How are you feeling?”
“I hate it,” I groan, and she responds with a light chuckle.
“Do you think he’ll hate it?” she asks, and I consider Beau for a moment.
“No.” The word comes out without much thought. He’s so desperate for punishment, and whether or not he gets off on the pain, he seems to crave it. “I think he’ll love it.”
“I’ll do three hits with the flogger, so you can feel it, and one with the riding crop. How are you feeling now?”
I let out a moan. God, I hate pain, but if I want to do this to him, it’s only fair that I feel it for myself first. Swallowing down my fear, I lift my head.
“I can take it. Give me six of each.”
She laughs again. “You know you’re not supposed to be giving me orders, right? But you’re learning, so I’ll let it slide. And three of each will be plenty.”
As it turns out, three of each is more than enough. This pain is different and more intense each time. With each new device she uses, the blows are concentrated and sting about ten times more than the one before.