Gabe strode to the balcony doors. Throwing them open, he took in a gulp of the cool air. They didn’t have punishment as part of their D/s. But he wanted to get through to her, needed to remind her that she was his while he was gone.
He closed the doors. Ivy walked towards him with his fibreglass cane held out in her hands, her gaze down.
“Thank you.” He took the cane from her. She stood with her arms behind her back, her gaze on the floor. Damn, she looked gorgeous. He spotted the small smile around her lips.
“I hated you weren’t there tonight. Why is work taking up so much of your time lately?”
“It’s nothing new,” Ivy mumbled.
He flicked the cane through the air. She jumped at the wispy noise, then he laid it across her breasts. She crumpled forward.
“You usually share with me what’s going on. You at least check in with me, and the last few weeks, you haven’t.”
Her eyes flashed with annoyance. “You don’t share the details of what you do at Axis Management.”
He flicked his wrist. Her face scrunched up, and a red stripe appeared across her breasts.
“Enough talking, sub of mine. Now, get your face to the wall, hands above your head.”
Ivy huffed as she walked by him but took up position beside the balcony door. She put her hands above her head.
“Thank you. Count these for me.”
Gabe sent the cane flying across her ass.
“One, Sir.”
Ivy standing still, her gaze on the wall, her legs spread, her arms stretched, by his command, was so damn gorgeous.
“Two, Sir.” Her voice caught.
Gabe brought the next three down hard and fast, not giving her time to recover.
“God! That hurts. Six, Sir,” Ivy moved her legs close together.
Gabe tapped the back of her calves.
She got the hint and spread her feet.
Gabe struck her ass again, keeping a steady rhythm of the cane, watching as the red stripes appeared over each other, pushing aside all thoughts other than this, of giving her a break, of helping her find a submissive headspace, to turn off her work gear.
The cane swished through the air, her ass a picture of angry red stripes.
“Twelve,” Ivy whimpered out.
Gabe paused, running his hand along her shoulders. “Are you okay with continuing?”
“Yes, Sir,” Ivy whispered.
He rubbed her shoulders, then stood back, throwing the cane on her left ass cheek.
“Thirteen, Sir.”
Her tone had lost the snark, her voice slightly above a whisper.
The next stroke of the cane landed right across the top of her thighs.
“Fourteen, Sir!”
