Her yoni leaked moisture. She did not know how he meant for her to show him, but she turned around and folded her body over the arm of the sofa again, reaching back to lift up her skirt and offer her bare bottom. “Okay!” she sang out.
The belt swung before she expected it, and she yelped, jumping. He no longer held her in place with her wrists behind her back, leaving her on her own to hold the position. “One, Master! Thank you, sir, may I have another?”
His hand pressed into her back and he delivered three more in rapid succession. “Do not get lippy with me.”
“Sorry! I’m sorry, Master!”
“We’ll start over again from one.”
“All right,” she squeaked, her legs beginning to tremble, her composure in danger of crumbling.
He whipped the belt across her bottom.
“One, Master.”
Again the leather licked her bare flesh.
“Two, Master.”
Three more times he applied the belt with precision, striping her bottom mercilessly as she counted to five.
“Stand and turn around, Faye,” he said.
She obeyed, keeping her chin tucked and her eyes down. He cupped her chin, lifting it until she looked at him. “Your spanking is over.” He kissed her forehead.
Tears sprang to her eyes, and embarrassed, she tried to duck her head, but he opened his arms and wrapped her up in them, providing the stability she needed to quiet her shakes.
“That hurt,” she complained when the trembling settled.
He tipped her face back again. “Yes, it’s meant to. Did you learn your lesson?”
She wanted to smart off and say “no”, but she was afraid of any more spanking, which meant, in fact, she had learned the lesson. “Yes, Master,” she admitted.
“Come sit down at the table again. I’ll reheat your food.”
As when he had warmed her after the motorcycle ride, she found his attentiveness incongruent to his tough “master” act. Incongruent and sweet.
“I’m all finished, but thanks,” she said.
“I’m sorry that had to ruin your dinner,” he said. “But I believe in instant consequences.”
Embarrassed, she restrained the urge to kick him in the shin for his instant consequences. Or at least for talking about them.
CHAPTER 8
JILLIAN
“Thanks for helping me with this, Jillian.” Cindy took another dirty dish off the table.
Jillian looked around at the recently vacated dining room and all the dirty tables. “Of course. I didn’t have much else to do besides eat, sleep, and wander around and try not to get in the way. Redd keeps giving me the evil eye.”
“She’s just jealous,” Cindy said.
“Jealous of what?”
“I have nooooooo idea!” breezed the sweet blonde.
Jillian decided to let the subject drop. “All right, well, this sure looks like a lot of work. Do you always have to do this yourself?”
