She let out a wounded, shame-laced sob, her face burying deeper into Boone’s chest, but she didn’t protest. Didn’t argue.
Because he was right. She’d failed, and they were helping her succeed. Teaching her with pain, with love.
And with fire.
* * * *
Morning came like nothing had changed.
She went in Kenny’s door at 5:15, her eyes swollen from crying, her cunt still burning.
She turned the water on, stood to the side, and waited for him to enter. His face was the same as always when he shuffled in to pee, walked past her to the shower, returned, and pointed for her to kneel.
She was used to his preferred method of, as he said, draining his balls first thing in the morning. He used her mouth like always in the shower — slow at first, then building, fucking her face until tears welled again, until the pressure in her throat pushed at the edge of what she could take. His fingers curled into her hair, holding her still while he thrust deep and fast.
And once she’d swallowed him down, she stood, washed him thoroughly, and left when cursorily dismissed.
No one spoke, but that was normal, and shethrivedon normal.
By 5:30, she was waiting in inspection pose by Boone’s door, facing the wall. She entered when the door opened and he grunted her in, climbed onto the bed when he motioned where he wanted her, and she assumed his favored knees-and-chest position.
She’d had no idea they made condoms big enough for his dick, but he donned one this morning before driving into herpussy in a single shove. He fucked her with hard, fast thrusts, her hips snapping forward with the force of it. She was raw from the oil, and the ribbed condom made it worse, but this was just the morning routine.
He finished with a low growl, inserted her plug and egg, slapped her ass, and growled, “Dismissed,” before he left her panting on the bed while he headed to the shower.
Downstairs, she made coffee with shaking hands, the egg on high, the plug on low. The week before, during their scheduled check-in meeting, Kenny had told her he planned to lean into chemical use for fast punishments and major consequences, since he’d figured out she can’t eroticize that kind of pain. He wasn’t wrong, but she kind of wished he hadn’t figured it out.
She started the bacon, prepped the toast, and then Kenny and Boone arrived to finish.
When Kenny sat at the table, he reached for his coffee and looked at her evenly. “Training is about learning. Not just the coordination, but the muscle memory to go with it, so you can do something as habit without even thinking about it.” He took a sip, swallowed. “You haven’t been focusing during your coordination exercises.”
She dropped her gaze, shame welling like heat.
“You were going through the motions. Letting your body work without your mind in it.” He took a bite of bacon. “That’s not training. That’s just motion.”
She nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Now you’ll practice with intention. And you’ll improve.”
“I will, Sir.” She meant every syllable.
Boone kissed her temple, and the rest of breakfast was okay. Normal.
Goodbye kisses were deep and possessive.
Everything was going to be okay.
When Silas woke and texted her, she went to her bedroom, and her stomach dropped when he turned his phone towards her.The list.
Every option but one would hurt her cunt, clit, asshole, ass cheeks, or tits.
She’d been avoiding this one, but today, it was probably the lesser of all the evils.
His wording wasInner thighs caned in quick succession, one stripe per leg, a five-second pause, then again. Ends after two minutes.
The trick to these was figuring out how to reword it into a question. “Please cane my inner thighs in quick succession, give me a five-second pause, and then do it again — for two minutes. Sir.”
It would be brutal, but her inner thighs weren’t raw from the night before. Not like her pussy, asshole, clit, ass, back, and tits.
