“I’ll use my hand first, blondie, then if it’s okay, I’ll paddle you too,” he promises between heavy breaths.
“Yes... Sir,” I croak.
There’s a gasp from behind me. Silence then envelopes the room, but before I can ask if that was the wrong thing to say, he hits me hard. With nowhere to go, my back tries to arch, but it’s useless. White-hot heat sears through my skin as he continues, his hand never stopping.
I don’t tell him to stop; I don’t say anything. I let him hear my screams, my whimpers, then my crying when the tears finally roll down my cheeks and hit the white carpet.
At that point, he checks in with me, rubbing my sore cheeks, praising me with kindness. He opens a large curio cabinet to one side of me. I can only just see out of the side of my eye as he selects something. I see skin, black lines, a dusting of light-brown hair, then he turns his attention back to me and out of sight.
“You okay, blondie?” he murmurs into my back as he places small kisses there. I fall further into the space where thoughts cease to form, and my body feels like jelly.
The paddle is nothing like this hand. I love it. I feel as if I’ve come home.
How can I feel like that when Jed inflicted so much pain on me? How can I feel this euphoric when he made me feel like nothing but a squashed bug under his boot?
When Arnie makes contact with my skin again and again, I bask in the pain, the heat leftover, and the ache that stays.
Time passes, but it doesn’t interest me. I want to stay here with Arnie forever. Take what he gives me and say thank you.
The bruises will be awful tomorrow, and a thrill surges through me at the thought of the purples, blacks, and blues that will cover me.
That tips me over the cliff’s edge. I can feel my come spout over my stomach and onto the expensive leather I’m strapped to.
“Arnie!” I call, unable to stop myself letting go and taking my pleasure in telling him beforehand.
He doesn’t seem to care though, as he stops his onslaught of blows, unbuckles me before rolling me over onto the floor, his entire mouth engulfing me. He sucks, licks and cleans me until I’m so sensitive that I beg for him to kiss me instead.
Crawling over me with his hot chest heavy on top of mine, we kiss, long and sensual. Eventually, he helps me up and places me on the gigantic bed in the room's corner, underneath the moonlight. He leaves, but not for long. Coming back to clean me, then the bench before rolling me onto my stomach to rub arnica gel into my sore backside. I send a silent thanks to Beau, who hasn’t scheduled me any shifts for the next few days.
I curl up on the bed, smelling the freshness of the bright white sheets and the distinct lack of Arnie’s scent on them.
Eventually, he comes back and kisses my forehead, praising me on how well I’ve done. Thanking me for listening to him and telling me to sleep. I try to argue; I try to ask if he’ll stay with me, but darkness takes over, and I’m asleep in seconds.
Chapter 22
Arnie
I watch him as he rests. He looks so innocent and at peace. His slow breathing tells me he’s left this world until morning. I check him over once more, making sure I didn’t do any damage to his skin that’s long-lasting. His naked form before me is otherworldly; I could caress it and stare at it forever.
If Jamie can truly accept me for who I am, then I’m on cloud nine. Over the years, I had doubts whether I’d ever be able to find someone who could accept every side of me.
Maybe after his meeting in the next few days, if all goes well, I’ll teach him to whip my thighs for his first time. I’m keen to jump into a new scene with him, but he needs a few days to process what we spoke about tonight and what being with me will entail. It’s not something you grow out of. Hell, I could barely push my desire to one side the moment I saw Jamie’s reddened rear. It’s been a long time since anyone at the club left their mark on me. I didn’t realise how much I missed it until I pictured Jamie as the one with the crop in his hand.
I jog back down to the kitchen, grabbing some water for him if he wakes in the night. Then check my messages; Simmons is the only notification.
Simmons: Bring your boy to Y2K Night ;)
It’s a great community at the club. Burt is always sending me texts asking when I’ll be back too. Maybe it would be fun to show Jamie off, if he wants to, that is. I’m not sure what will happen going forward. Jamie once claimed he was vanilla, but I think he was taught that was the default he should enjoy.
When I read his answers to the questions I had sent him back when we first met, he answered them as if he was writing what he thought the best answers should be rather than giving me the honest answers that described him. That’s why I then sent the kink list along with my own answers; I needed to know the compatibility. Sure, I rarely send students of mine my kink list, but with Jamie... he just did something to me right from those first couple of meetings that made me want him to like me or understand he wasn’t alone if he had thoughts he didn’t think were conventional.
After brewing some of my favourite tea, I head out through the back door to wander around my garden. I take my time in the cover of night with nothing but the low-hanging moon to guide me. I check my herb garden, dig up some potatoes and rhubarb, carefully placing them in the basket to take them back inside later.
I wander to the back of the garden where a wide, low wall sits drenched in overgrown vines. Hopping up and sitting with my teacup in my lap, I close my eyes and throw my head back. Inhaling the scent of the cold air. The light, smoky smell from the cottage chimneys nearby. The smell of rain mixed with dirt. It’s cold, but not so much that I need more than socks and my favourite black cardigan over my bare chest.
I hear a tiny mewl, then there is a swish of air before a hairy tail hits me, making my eyes open. “Hi, Johnny,” I tell the orange and white cat who lives in the neighbouring house. He looks up at me expectantly, as if saying his own hello back. My garden is full of delicious bugs and sometimes birds, making Johnny aregular visitor. Especially at night, when he knows I frequently choose this wall to relax and unwind on.
He jumps straight into my lap, making himself comfortable as my mind wanders back to Jamie. My non-mug holding hand gravitating to Johnny’s ears so I can give them a good scratch. His purrs vibrate through me, and I seek comfort in how trusting he is. Such a fluffy, fragile animal. One without judgement, unless you’re cruel to him that is or won’t cuddle him.
