“I feel fine, sir.”
“Faith—how do you feel? Tell me. What’s happening in your head right now?”
I pause to introspect. He clearly wants details and ‘fine’won’t cut it. I draw in several deep breaths before I attempt another reply.
“I feel vulnerable, over-awed. You’re fully dressed, in a sharp and sexy business suit at that. I’m naked, kneeling at your feet. I feel small, and maybe a little scared.”
“Better answer. Are you scared of me?”
“Of course. You intend to punish me.”
“I do. You’ll scream and you’ll beg me to stop. And I will stop, but not until I’m satisfied you’ve learnt the lesson I need to teach you. Then I’ll hold you, and I’ll take care of you. And I’ll fuck you until you scream again. Is all that perfectly clear to you, Faith?”
“Yes, sir.” My voice is barely audible, but still he hears.
“Why are you being punished?”
“Because I went to a BDSM club.”
“No, not that. I have no objection to you frequenting BDSM clubs, though if you decide to repeat the adventure, in future you’ll go with me. Let me make this clear. You deserve to be punished because you kept your kink to yourself. You knew I would want to know, but you didn’t tell me. There may be a certain grey area to all this, because I wasn’t your dom at the time you initially kept this information from me. This is the reason you are looking at a fairly innocuous spanking crop rather than a more demanding implement. The next time you lie to me, be prepared to accept a caning. I suspect you’ll think twice before exposing yourself to another.”
The blood drains from my face as the stark reality of a disciplinary relationship sinks in. Ewan means business, as I’m shortly to experience.
He crouches in front of me, again cupping my chin. “Don’t look so stricken, Faith. I would never do more to you than you can bear. This will soon be over, then we move on. What I have to offer you is intense, demanding, and painful. But pain can feel so good, and submission brings rewards far more often than it attracts punishment. You must know that, or you wouldn’t be here.”
I nod, wordless. I do know that. I remember the heady experience at Fairlawns, the exhilaration of the sharp sting of a paddle against my bottom. If an anonymous dom with a kind smile could draw out that response, how much more would I be aroused by this powerful dom who I already adore?
My pussy moistens still more by way of answer, as Ewan straightens. He picks up the cuffs.
“Your wrists, please.”
I lift my hands and he wraps a cuff around each wrist, buckling them in a snug fit. Then he clips one to the other, using fastenings attached to each. My wrists are restrained in front of me.
“Okay?” Ewan steps away, watching my reaction to being bound for the first time.
I manage a slight nod, unable to resist an experimental tug to test the cuffs. There’s no give at all, though they are not in the least uncomfortable. The leather is soft and supple. I suspect they have seen much use.
“Stand up, please, and lean over the arm of the sofa.” A two-seater leather sofa is tucked into an alcove. As I get to my feet, Ewan pulls it out into the room. It rolls easily across the floor, obviously on casters. Ewan gestures me to stand at one end. He reaches down the side of the cushion at the other end and flicks out a metal clip similar to that which now secures my wrists together. This is no ordinary sofa.
I do as instructed, leaning forward so that my stomach is balanced over the wide, solid arm. My feet are still on the floor, just.
“Stretch your arms out, please, so I can fasten this.”
Obedient, I reach across the sofa and allow Ewan to slot the fastener through a metal loop on one of my cuffs. I’m going nowhere now. Ewan gives my hands a quick tug, and slides his finger under each of the cuffs.
“Do these feel too tight?”
“No, sir.”
He nods, and seemingly satisfied returns to the bed to retrieve the crop. He drops it beside me on the seat of the sofa.
“I’ll warm you up first with my hand to help prevent bruising. This part will hurt too, but you can use it to help you get your head in the right place to cope with the crop. Then you’ll take twenty strokes. Just so you know what to expect, you’ll be screaming after the first three or four strokes, and you’ll no doubt beg me to stop. I won’t unless you use your safe word. For today a simple ‘halt’ will do. Use that exact word if you find what I’m doing intolerable and you have to stop. Do not use it lightly.” He pauses for a few moments, perhaps to let that information sink in.
I offer a brief nod to indicate I understand. And accept.
Ewan continues. “You’ll struggle, but you can’t get up or move to avoid the crop. You’ll hate what I’m doing to you. But you will survive it, and I’m confident you’ll find the spanking crop delivers a memorable lesson. Now, are you ready to start?”
“Yes.”No!
