“T-two, Daddy,” I whimper, blinking hard and fast.
The third one is worse. It lands lower and harder. It makes my spine curl and bends me backward. I leap up, hands clamped onto my ass like a magnet. Desperate to rub the burn away but inadvertently making it worse. I squawk loudly. Rubbing my ass and then jumping on the spot, trying in vain to shake the pain out. For the first time since I met Stuart, my dick is confused. Messages are jumbled. Horny, not horny. Good sore. Bad sore. It starts to soften, dangling almost limp between my legs.
“Back in position, or I’ll give you extra.”
I hear a clear threat and all but throw myself back over the desk, landing with my cheek kissing the smooth surface of the calendar.
The last thing on Earth I need are extras. I’m hanging on by a thread here. Believe me, I can’t handle more.
I react the same way to the fourth and the fifth strokes. The same but worse. More pathetic. More simpering. I howl when the cane makes contact. Loud and terrible. Mouth wide open, face twisted in an ugly grimace, body arching off the desk. Dancing on the spot, stiff-legged and skittish. Jumping up without any intention from me, only to dive back over the desk to wait, heart thudding, for the next one.
“Five, Daddy,” I sniffle.
“Last one.” Stuart’s voice is firm but encouraging. A threat and a promise laced with pure pain. My dick hears it and twitches, staggering into a base form of attention as I assume the position.
He touches me. Lightly. Cane caresses scorched skin. A whisper. A trace. Just a suggestion of where it’s going to land. My ass cheeks quiver like jelly. No, not like jelly. Worse. Worse than jelly. I’m shaking from head to toe. Knees knocking, teeth chattering, terrible somber sounds pouring out of me freely. I paw at the calendar, turning it upward and biting down on it hard, groaning around it as I wait for the last stroke.
It lands with such precision that I’m almost impressed. At least, I would be if I wasn’t howling. A clear, crisp cut slices into me right where my cheeks and thighs meet. I jump up and spin around the room. Hands reaching for my cheeks but too frightened to touch them lest it make them sting worse. I jump up and down, kicking my legs jerkily as the pain builds.
Stuart stands stock still, watching me without judgment. Eventually, his stillness finds me, and I stop moving. I face him. The cane hangs loosely at his side. His eyes are passive and kind, his mouth a straight line. His shirt is white with a pale-blue check. His pants are tented with a massive erection.
He puts the cane back in the drawer, takes a few things out of a lower drawer, and places them on the desk where I’ve just been. Lube, a strange-looking syringe, and a short black leather strap with a silver buckle.
My heart punches like a fist.
What?
Yes. Pleeeease.
I’m instantly breathless. I hardly dare hope that this is what I think it is.Please, please let him remember.
“Your punishment isn’t over,” he says, reaching down and stroking his erection brazenly, making his intention perfectly clear. “Do you remember what I said about this kind of fucking?”
Oh God. He remembers.
He reallyisperfect.
I nod rapidly, “Yes, Daddy. You said bad boys don’t get to come.”
“That’s right. And I meant it.” He cocks a stern eyebrow at me. “This is for me, not for you, so if you come while I’m inside you, you’re going to get another dose of the cane.”
I gulp and nod again.
Jesus, I can’t take that. My ass is on fire.
I’m gonna need to get my wits about me in a very big way.
“Now, do you know what these are?” He motions to the items on the desk.
I shake my head.
He picks up the strap and shows it to me. “This goes around your balls. It’s to help you. To stop them from creeping up close to your body. It will make it harder for you to shoot. It will help you be good.”
“Will it hurt, Daddy?” I ask hopefully.
“No, baby. It will be a little uncomfortable, but it won’t hurt. Would you like me to put it on you?”
“Yes, please.”
