Page 7 of Silver

Am I a hostage? Would he let me go if I asked? Part of me wants to find out, but some dark, perverse part wants to know how this plays out. My pussy is dripping wet. The more fear he instills in me, the hornier I get.

Does he know it? I’m not sure.

“If you’ve never been punished for making bad choices, you don’t understand how freeing it can be,” he continues. “I’m going to show you now.” He says this like he’s doing me a favor. Like normal people make mistakes and then erase them from their subconscious through physical atonement. How would I even obtain that? Self-flagellation?

I nearly laugh at the thought, but I sober quickly. This isn’t funny.

“Tell me you understand, Daphne.”

I squirm.

He grips my thigh harder and presses down on my back. “Stay still,” he barks. “I want you to use your words. You’re a college freshman. I know you have verbal abilities. Ask me to spank you.”

I start panting. This is madness. My head is spinning.

“Ask me, Daphne,” he repeats. “‘Please spank my naughty bottom so that I’ll make better choices in the future.’”

I can’t do this. I can’t.

Silver slides his hand from my back to my neck and presses my forehead into the mattress. My mouth is lifted off the bed, but my eyes are covered now. His grip is firm. “You need this, Daphne. You need the release you’ll get from being punished for your misbehavior.”

His tone is deep, solid. He’s totally in control. He’s not angry. He’s simply performing a service. It makes no sense, and yet at the same time, it makes perfect sense.

I take a leap of faith, my curiosity getting the better of me. That and my pulsing clit. “Please spank me, Sir.”

“Good girl. I know that was hard.” His hand moves to the small of my back again, and my breath hitches when he lifts the T-shirt to tuck it under his palm, exposing me.

Suddenly, he slaps my ass so hard my teeth rattle in my head. Before I have time to fully process, he does it again and again, switching back and forth, punishing my butt with far more force than I expected.

Instinct causes me to struggle, but I’m no match for his strength. He plants one foot between mine and pins my leg against his torso. His other hand applies so much pressure to my back that I’m trapped. And he keeps spanking me, over and over, until the sting turns into a deep burn.

I cry out, it’s nothing but noise. I can’t form words.

He covers every inch of my butt and even the backs of my thighs.

Emotions well up in me, shifting from frustration to anger to total fury until suddenly something breaks inside me, and I start crying. Huge, ugly sobs that erupt without warning, infuriating me.

Silver stops immediately, and I get the feeling this was his goal. He was waiting for me to cry. Why? Does he get off on making women cry? Apparently.

But even worse, it’s also obvious that I get off on it, too. He just totally humiliated me, and my pussy is soaked and throbbing. Every slap of his hand seemed to vibrate my clit, which is totally exposed. I can’t even close my legs to alleviate the pressure.

I’m trapped in this position. My ass is on fire. I want to rub it, but when I try to move my arms, Silver grabs both of them, hauls them over my head, and holds my wrists together with one huge hand.

“You may not rub your bottom, Daphne. Endure the burn. It’s part of your punishment.”

I think I’m going to pass out. This can’t be happening. I’m sobbing so hard I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to stop. Snot is running onto his comforter. Good. I don’t care. I hope it’s gross. Drool is running out of my mouth because I don’t try to stop that, either.

Two hours ago, I was about to start a job that would have paid well enough for me to afford a studio apartment and maybe a mattress. I would have been able to live a very basic life with a roof over my head and a mattress. I’ve done the math. With the addition of electricity, my phone, and gas, I could have scraped by this first year, maybe even saved enough money to afford a desk by the summer. Food was going to come next. I know I can’t study and learn without proper nutrition.

I can’t believe I was standing in the wings of the stage, about to embark on that scary adventure, when this buff math god yanked the option right out of my hands. And now I’m in his bedroom, sobbing like a baby because he just spanked my ass so hard I won’t be able to sit tomorrow.

Good thing tomorrow is Saturday. I have the weekend to sort out my shit.

Silver finally lets up on his grip and releases me. “Go wash your face and blow your nose, Daphne. You need to get into bed. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

I feel like I weigh three hundred pounds as I rise, tug the T-shirt over my throbbing ass, and head toward the bathroom. I don’t look at him. I can’t.

“Do not touch your naughty bottom, Daphne,” he warns. “The afterburn is part of your punishment. Let it linger.”