Chapter 10

The first two swats surprised her. She yelped when the third one landed on her upturned bottom. It hurt. He was spanking her hard, each blow of his large hand enough to make her body lurch, her ass and thighs jiggle.

Her hands were scrambling for something to hold on to. She tried grabbing his leather pants with her right hand, but the material was too smooth and well fitted for her to catch hold of, and her arms were too short for her to brace her hand on the floor. She ended up grabbing his ankle, holding on for dear life as he continued to spank her. Her left arm was pressed between her side and his stomach.

Smack, smack.

He wasn’t doing some measured, controlled spanking. Back when Hach had been topping, he’d preferred a spanking bench, and only taken her over his lap a few times when they’d been roleplaying as naughty schoolgirl and headmaster. She hadn’t enjoyed that kind of role-play, so they’d moved on.

He’d never spanked her like this—hard and fast, so she barely had time to catch her breath between each blow. Her whole ass was starting to ache. He’d covered her from ass to upper thigh.

“Next time you wear your panties over the garters, so I can take them off while you still have your garters on. Understand?” His voice was a low, rough growl.

“Yes, Master—”

She yelped, toes lifting off the floor as he smacked the sit spot on her left leg, which he’d been paying particular attention to throughout the spanking.

She’d been planning to say “Master Dowell” but hadn’t managed the “Dowell” part before the spanking truncated her statement.

It felt good, calling him “Master.” Thinking of him as her Master.

When this game is over, I’m leaving Hach.

In the midst of the spanking, while the physical pain stripped away her mental excuses, she finally accepted what she needed to do, for both their sakes.

Sejal started to cry.

Master Dowell, Cort—it was nice to know his name—slowed, but didn’t stop the spanking. “Crying won’t stop the spanking.”

It was just the right amount of mean, scary Dom. Her pussy, which had started throbbing a while ago, clenched in desire.

“N-no, Master.”

“You need this, don’t you?”

“Yes, I…Yes, I do. Thank you, Master.”

“Thanking me won’t make me stop.” He grabbed the sides of her panties shoving them between the cheeks of her ass. He spanked the newly bared skin a few times, then rubbed her with his palm. She lifted up, pressing her warm, aching ass against his hand.

“You like this, don’t you?”

She rubbed her cheek against his knee. “I do. I want…more. But it hurts.”

“You have a safe word,” he reminded.

“I know, Sir.”

“Back to Sir?” He swatted her hard enough to make her shriek and jump.

A second, equally firm smack, cracked against her ass. Pain made her teeth clench and toes curl, even as her pussy throbbed. She moved her left arm, covering her ass with her hand.

He grabbed her wrist and forced it to the small of her back. “I was going to lick your pussy as a reward for being so good while you got your spanking, but now I won’t.”

“I’ll be good. I’ll be very good,” she panted.

“Too late. Now you’re going to have to earn it.”

“Please, let me earn it. Let me suck your cock.”

Spank, spank, spank. These ones were softer, but she squealed and wiggled against him. Her ass was on fire, her skin so sensitive and hot that she could feel the slight breeze being generated by the building’s heating and cooling system.

“That’s a reward too. Now, we finish this. Let go.”

For one moment she thought he wanted her to let go of his ankle, but then realized it was both more and less than that. He wasn’t asking her to let go physically, but emotionally. Earlier she’d started to cry, but not from the pain.

Pain, at least this kind of pain, was more than physical. It was an outlet—a way of dealing with stress. Or it could be, if she let it.

You’re going to leave Hach.

She closed her eyes, focusing on that thought, as Master Dowell continued to spank her, though much more gently than he had a moment ago. The idea of leaving her bound Master didn’t bring tears to her eyes as it had before. Rather, a mix of sadness and anger swelled over her. Sadness that a relationship that was so important to her, that had meant so much to her, was over. Anger at Hach for what he’d done. Or what he hadn’t done. Anger that he’d ignored her.

“He used me,” she said aloud.

The timing of her words was perfect, coming in the quiet lull between spanks.

Master Dowell released her wrist, his free hand spreading over her back in a comfortingly commanding way. “Tell me,” he said simply.

Sejal shifted, rubbing her cheek against his leg and hoping it wasn’t real leather. “He used me. He changed. He wanted different things. And he used me to get them.”

Cort slid one hand up her back, tangling it in her hair. His right hand landed one final, soft tap to her ass, and then he slid her panties back into place.

“Kneel.”

Sejal slid off his lap, onto the floor. He grabbed her under the arms, lifting her so he could drag her between his spread legs. She shivered in reaction to the casual display of strength. Cort bent forward so their heads were nearly level, keeping his hands on her.

“You deserve better. Better than to be used.”

Tears filled her eyes again. She started to tip her head back, so they would spill down her cheeks but he grabbed her chin.

“Let go.”

With his hands on her, his will and power and command surrounding and protecting her, Sejal was able to lower her internal walls, let her feelings free. She pressed both hands over her mouth and sobbed.

Cort jerked her up onto his lap. Pain lanced through her as her abused bottom landed on his rock-hard thigh, but she didn’t care, because he pulled her close, wrapped his big, heavy arms around her, and held her as she cried.

“Good morning.” Warm hands slid under the covers and along her naked skin.

Her alarm hadn’t gone off, and she wasn’t wearing her watch. That meant she didn’t have to work today, and wasn’t on call. She had no reason to get up. Therapy had taught her that it was okay to sleep in as a form of self-care, so Sejal rolled onto her stomach, burying her head in the pillow, her hair falling across her face.

Huh. That was odd. She must have forgotten to braid it last night.

“I said good morning; it’s time to get fucked by a big dildo while you ride a glider.”

The hands were warm as they kneaded her back, the words soft, foreign, and pleasantly masculine. She’d almost fallen back to sleep when the actual words penetrated. English. He was speaking English. She still dreamed in Hindi, and she been having a wild dream when the man first tried to wake her.

Usake bistar par ek aadamee tha.

There was a man in her bed. A man touching her.

That certainly wasn’t normal, yet she wasn’t alarmed. In the next second her brain caught up with her body—her body had recognized that touch, the sound of his voice, and known she was safe. Her brain was now up and running.

Sejal turned her head, pushing her hair out of her eyes. Cort was kneeling beside the bed, looking tousled and sexy in the mid-morning light.

“You’re wearing a shirt,” she mumbled.

“You sound disappointed.”

“It ruins the view.”

“If I promise to take off the shirt, will you get up?”

She rolled onto her side. His hands, which were burrowing up under the covers, slid along her skin. One hand came to rest on the side of her breast.

“You could order me to get up.”

He raised a single dark brow. “I could.”

Sejal took a deep breath, his hand now half an inch closer to her nipple.

A smile touched his lips.

Sejal wasn’t all that obedient, and she didn’t like to wait. She rolled onto her back, and his hand slid over her breast. She arched up, eyes fluttering closed as his palm rubbed her nipple.

“Naughty girl. I like it.”

Cort threw back the covers, and the cold air made her skin prickle. She threw her arms up, laying them on the pillow, crossing her wrists above her head.

Cort rose, planted one knee on the bed, and bent his head to her breasts.

Sejal arched her back, breasts aching with the need to be touched. Her ass was reminding her of how they’d ended the night, with a spanking and some intense after care that ended with him tucking her into bed. She waited, waited for him to suck her nipples. Or lick them. Bite them. Anything. She’d let this man do anything he wanted to her.

Cort planted a noisy kiss on her cheek, popped off the bed, and dragged the covers with him. Sejal yelped as the cold air hit her naked body. She sat up and glared at him through the tangle of her hair. He grinned at her.

“You’re a morning person?” she asked in disgust.

“Not normally. Not unless I have something to look forward to.”

He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans, rocked up onto his toes. The white shirt he wore hugged his arms and chest in that way that made her think it was either a very expensive shirt, or custom made.

“I’m guessing you’re not a morning person?”

“What I am is punctual when I have someplace to be. I used to get up at five am no matter what.”

Sejal swung her legs off the bed, then hopped off and started to stretch.

Cort retreated a few steps to watch her. “Up at five every morning to do yoga?”

“No, to study, or work, or read journal articles.”

“What changed?”

“I’ve learned to give myself time to rest both body and mind.” She dropped onto the carpet and into a cobra pose, looking up at the ceiling.

Cort came over and looked down at her. “I like the naked yoga, but you have twenty minutes to meet me in the playroom.” He tapped his watch. “This time I will be on time.”

He bent, kissed her forehead as if he’d done it every morning for years, and then walked out the door.

Sejal lowered her shoulders to the floor, and stayed there, a little stunned. The kiss had felt…intimate. Too intimate for something so simple.

She arched up into downward facing dog, held it for a count of twenty, and then abandoned stretching in favor of getting ready. Twenty minutes wasn’t much time to prepare for…how had he phrased it?

Oh yes, getting fucked by a big dildo while riding a glider.

Sejal smiled and snatched up her discarded garter belt and stockings.