Alena scowled. Let? She and Raven were friends. She didn’t need to be allowed to do anything. In fact, she insulted herself by letting Raven give her orders. She’d come into this relationship as an equal, a human with dignity, and an adult who made her own decisions. Raven couldn’t take that away from her if Alena didn’t let her.
Alena threw the covers back and landed on her feet. Again, the room blazed with light. She lunged to the switch and turned it off, but a sense of foreboding seized her. She didn’t know how or why, but Raven must have the room bugged. Indignation swept through her. How dare she!
This time when Raven opened the door, she carried a slim wooden paddle, polished brilliant black with a matching black cushioned handle. Blackie, again. “You were warned, my dear.”
Alena stared in disbelief. They’d talked about spankings, played with implements, and giggled through fun and games. She didn’t want pain. Raven had agreed.
“I’ve let you get away with bad behavior for too long. Much of the blame is mine, for not putting a stop to this nonsense long ago. But blame aside, we have a spoiled little girl on our hands who thinks she can do whatever she wants.” Raven tucked the paddle underneath her arm and grabbed the tail of Alena’s nightgown.
“No!” Alena twisted and pulled away, but Raven flipped the nightgown up her back and yanked down her panties. “You can’t do this!”
“No, my dear. You can’t do this. It’s my job to teach you that you can’t, and I’ve failed. We’re correcting this now. Hold still.”
In the next few seconds, Alena screeched as solid wood connected with her unprotected skin. Raven pushed down on her shoulders, making her support her own weight on the bed. Alena kicked and wailed, writhing in the effort to get away. They’d played around, but she’d made clear her dislike of pain. Wood hurt too much! She jumped up, howling, and turned to face her tormentor.
“In position!” Raven snapped.
“No!” Alena yelled back, hopping in anger. “You can’t make me do anything!” Pain loosened her self-control and made her say things she should have kept to herself.
“Can’t I!” Raven planted a stockinged foot on top of the bed and hauled Alena across her knee.
Alena squeaked, in too precarious of a position to fight back. She ran the risk of being dropped on her head. When the paddle descended several times in rapid succession, this time the pain connected with her brain. Anything to make it stop! She yelped, more quietly this time. “Please,” she begged.
“To bed,” Raven repeated, slapping the paddle one last time before pointing to the bed.
Alena threw herself facedown onto the bed, sniffling as Raven raised the covers. She hated herself for giving in, but that blasted paddle hurt so much! She’d never thought Raven would intentionally hurt her. She mewled, hoping for a kiss or cuddle or sympathy. Something, anything, to make things better. She didn’t like this new, scary Raven. She wanted their happy, sweet relationship back.
“Disobey me again, and I’ll paddle you until you can’t sit down all day tomorrow.”
With that unsympathetic parting shot, Raven set the paddle on the nightstand next to the bed and banged the door closed behind her.
Alena rolled onto her side, glaring at the hated implement. Who did Raven think she was? She might have won this battle, but Alena wouldn’t let her win the war. She’d show her. The paddle hurt like blazes at first, but already the pain was subsiding. It was nothing to be afraid of. She could take whatever Raven dished out.
Doubt made her shiver. Could she? Maybe she shouldn’t poke the bear. At some point, self-preservation had to win over proving her dignity.
Then Alena caught sight of the hateful paddle again, and rage flooded her from head to toe. How dare Raven? Alena would show her. She’d put her clothes back on, demand to be taken back home, and refuse to come back unless Raven apologized and promised never to bully again.
Alena tried to sit up, winced, and rolled onto her stomach. She dropped her legs to the floor, banging a knee against the box spring. This time, she was prepared for the lights and turned off the switch. She fumbled in the dark for her clothes. She’d face Raven and tell her this wasn’t working. She picked up her sweatshirt, only to hear the coldest voice she’d ever heard in her life.
“Drop it.”
Alena froze. She meant to tell Raven off, but she couldn’t get her jaw to work properly. All of her saliva seemed to have dried up, and she couldn’t form words. A little squeak came out instead.
Raven’s breathing came unnaturally loud in Alena’s ears, and the older woman made no other sound until Alena let the sweatshirt fall to the carpet.
“Turn around.”
Slowly, painfully, Alena pivoted until she stared at the carpet near the door. The navy blue slacks covered slim feet that Alena loved to massage.
“Look at me.”
Alena struggled to lift her head, but she couldn’t do it. A cold sense of foreboding gripped her chest.
“Now.”
With a gasp, Alena ripped her gaze from the floor to the jet-black hair streaked with silver. Dark, intense eyes stared at her with anger, disappointment, and—was that sorrow? Why?
Raven tilted her chin downward. “Come to me,” she said, and Alena followed her voice as if a puppet guided by strings.
“Please don’t spank me,” she whispered, lips trembling. She hated herself for begging, but the mental picture of Raven’s disapproval was all too clear. If Alena thought she had been in pain a few minutes ago, that was nothing compared to the promise of these snapping, dangerous eyes now.
Raven held her gaze, staring without speaking until Alena lowered her head. She gave a gasp of relief at breaking such intensity, but Raven’s order came again.
“I said, look at me.”
With a cry, Alena covered her face with her hands. “I can’t!” She didn’t understand how everything had gone wrong, and there was no way out.
“Look at me. Now.”
Unsympathetic, Raven’s voice cracked through the silence. Slowly, Alena lowered her hands. Slowly, she raised her head again. Slowly, she forced herself to face the anger of the one who had spanked her without mercy.
Of course, Raven had spanked with plenty of mercy before. Alena was going to learn the difference now.
“I have allowed you far too much leeway. I have permitted you to dictate your whims, and I have structured our time together according to your convenience.”
“I’m sorry,” Alena began, but Raven’s eyes blazed.
“Did I give you permission to speak?”
Alena’s mouth snapped shut, and she whimpered as Raven continued.
“The fault was largely mine, of course. After our beginning, I was afraid of causing you more hurt. I was warned not to spoil you, but I thought you were unspoilable. Instead of teaching you discipline, I’ve allowed you to walk all over me. That your behavior has become appalling is my responsibility as much as yours.”
Alena didn’t know where to look for shame, but she didn’t dare look away.
“You agreed to one responsibility only, to come each Friday rested enough to spend time together. Instead, you stay up all night beforehand and can barely keep your eyes open. This ends now, Alena.”
In the silence, Alena searched for the right answer. “Okay,” she offered. “Yes, ma’am?” Neither seemed satisfactory. “I’m sorry?” Please, please let me go to bed. I swear I’ll go to bed if you just stop scolding me.
“From now on, you will obey any order to the letter. You will speak respectfully, show consideration, and treat your time here as your job for which you are paid.”
“Okay.” Alena licked her lips. “You’re right.” She prayed her answers would be enough. “I’ll go to bed now.” She moved toward the bed, but Raven stopped her.
“You were given the chance to go to bed, twice. You refused. Instead, we’ll have your first lesson in obedience.” Raven moved to the nightstand and picked up the paddle. “Bare your botto
m and bend over the bed, feet shoulder width apart.”
Alena gasped, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her bottom still hurt! How could she take any more? “Please,” she choked out. “I’ve learned my lesson. Please don’t do this.”
Raven waited, as impassive as stone. Alena gave a sob and crossed to the bed. Why didn’t I listen the first time? Why did I think I’d be more dignified by not obeying? Oh, if only I had the chance to go back and do things over! She hiked up her nightgown and bit her lip before pulling down her panties. She braced herself against the bed, crying bitterly before the first blow came.
And when it did come, she had hard work to stay in position. Her heart broke as pain after pain heaped onto her backside. She begged for forgiveness, the chance to obey, and swore she would never even take a breath wrong if only Raven would stop.
At last, Raven set down the paddle. Alena hugged the comforter, spent with tears and limp with exhaustion. She reached toward Raven, desperate for a token of affection. She’d never been quite this naked or raw, and she needed reassurance she was still loved.
Instead, Raven guided her into bed and pulled the covers up once more. Alena’s cries increased, and she held out her arms for a hug.
Raven switched off the light and spoke in a no-nonsense tone. “In this house, naughty girls are not rewarded for earning punishments. We will discuss in the morning, after you’ve proven that you can obey. You are to stay in bed until Clara gets you up. If you have a real reason to get up, you are to push the intercom buzzer on the bedpost to your left.”
In the heavy silence that followed, Alena fought for self-control. She couldn’t believe the transformation of Raven from kind, loving, and fun into someone cold and hard. She had never hurt so much in her life. Would Raven ever love her again? She curled up in misery, only just remembering to obey. “Yes, ma’am,” she answered, and Raven shut the door.
Once the door closed, Alena sobbed until she grew light-headed. Despite everyone’s warnings, she hadn’t understood. This was discipline. This! She never wanted it again, not if discipline meant submitting to this.
Why did Raven have to change? Why couldn’t everything have stayed fun?
As Alena turned over and over, trying to find comfort, she lost her fight to remain silent. The minutes passed, and she willed herself to find self-control. She wanted to hate Raven, but she couldn’t quite muster the energy. Raven had warned her, after all. Lorelei had warned her. Everyone had given warnings, but Alena hadn’t understood.
Sobbing, Alena called out one name again and again. “Raven! Raven! Raven!” It was foolish, but she couldn’t help herself.
A cool hand took her hot one, and Raven’s sweet, dark eyes met hers. Alena blinked, wiping tears from her own eyes to make sure. Yes, those were tears in Raven’s eyes. Why was she crying? No one had spanked her.
Alena pulled away, confused yet again. “You said I was spoiled.”
“My sweet girl,” Raven crooned, cuddling Alena. “You’ve been punished, and now you are forgiven.”
The ache in Alena’s stomach loosened. “Really? Why are you being nice to me now?”
Raven kissed her hair. “Because, my dear, you are mine.”
Alena gulped, fighting hard to speak. “Even after I ruined everything?”
Raven stroked Alena’s cheek and giving her a tiny kiss. “How can you ruin anything? You misbehave, I spank, and life goes on.”
“But you were so mad…”
Raven shushed her. “Mad enough for you to take me seriously. Which you did, correct?”
Alena gulped. “Um, yeah. I don’t think I’m ever getting out of this bed.”
Raven gave a tinkling laugh. “That suits me.”
There was a catch to Raven’s voice, and Alena glanced at her. She took a deep breath, scooted over as best as her soreness would allow, and patted the mattress next to her.
“Maybe you shouldn’t get out, either.”
As the flush swept through Raven’s cheeks, Alena reached up and unhooked the older woman’s top shirt button.
Chapter Fifteen
“Yes.” The soft, reluctant syllable disappeared into Alena’s throat.
“Ma’am.” When Alena flinched, Raven opened her mouth. I’m sorry, she wanted to say, but that was ridiculous. She should teach Alena her role. After all, overindulgence had brought them to this point. She, Raven, had bent over backward to cosset and keep Alena comfortable. A new girl did need kid gloves, but discipline shouldn’t go out the window. A night of pleasure did not cancel out that discipline.
Should not cancel out, at least.
Staring at the tense figure trying to disappear into the corner of the sitting room, Raven blinked several times. After the bedtime incident, and after Raven had laid down the law, things had gone well.
And yet, as Raven watched her girl shift weight from one foot to the other and wriggle her bottom in an unintentionally seductive dance, a tiny voice struggled to be heard above the disappointment. She had planned their weekend, had been excited about it, and had allowed herself to get carried away. Last night, after the power struggle over bedtime, Raven had ignored her sterner instincts and gone to comfort the girl. Except comfort had led to more, and the morning had begun with another power struggle over setting an ongoing bedtime. When reasonable discussion failed, Raven sent Alena to the corner with the threat of punishment to follow.
If Alena didn’t need any correction, what kind of submissive would she be?
You signed up for this. No, you paid her for this. You wanted a newbie, a fresh girl without bad habits or false arrogance. You can’t catch a wild horse and complain it doesn’t know how to carry a rider.
Raven cupped one hand in the other and lowered lips to the tops of her knuckles.
If you’re going to throw your toys out of the pram, as the British say, you’re not fit to discipline her. Get a grip, Raven!
Alena lowered her head, and a muffled sob escaped. She sounded unhappy, of course, but the cry contained a note Raven hadn’t heard before.
Fear.
Sure, when they had played their obedience games, Alena had protested or argued or flat-out balked at orders she couldn’t understand. She’d sulked, wheedled, and grown petulant at not getting her way. She’d never shown actual fear, though.
Until now.
Raven pulled down her glasses and set down her pen.
“Turn around.”
Raven could have softened her voice or added a note of encouragement, but she chose not to. If she let herself feel pain at Alena’s pain, she’d lose control. She was the objective one, the disciplinarian who meted punishment richly deserved. She didn’t have to enjoy it. In fact, punishment by definition meant neither would enjoy it. As Alena’s mistress, she had the right to spank that little bottom to a toasty glow several times in a row if she chose. She could dress Alena in a uniform, give her instructions, take away privileges, and keep the girl sore for the contracted twenty-four hours plus a day or two after she went home.
She loved to spank Alena.
But she hated to punish.
Punishment meant, after all, that she had failed. Alena, yes, but Raven even more. If Alena submitted her will to Raven, who bore the responsibility?
The top of Alena’s head greeted Raven, and the older woman bit back a sigh. “Look at me, please.”
A red nose and watery eyes appeared as the girl obeyed without speaking.
“What am I supposed to do with you?” Careful. She’d meant to sound resigned, calm, and pragmatic. Instead, the rising intonation of the last few words sent a shiver through Alena’s body.
“Sp-sp-sp-spank me?” Alena’s teeth chattered, and she wrapped her arms around herself.
Spank. It should have been a glorious, pleasurable activity, walloping the sweet bottom until the girl squealed with wild, ecstatic pleasure emerging from the pain. For the whole morning, Raven couldn’t keep her hands off Alena’s backside. From a tap in passing to an out-of-the-blue cr
ack complete with sound effects, she’d kept that adorable, lascivious bottom in constant giggly squirminess.
She’s going to hate me.
If Raven took her loopy johnny and whipped Alena the way the girl needed, she would run away in terror.
How else will we get past this? How can I make her obey without terrifying her?
That was the lesson Raven had so desperately tried to teach. When she made Alena kneel blindfolded or present herself for spanking far more severe than Raven would actually administer, she had learned to trust.
To believe.
To have faith.
To know, deep down, that Raven held her life more sacred than her own.
That Raven would sacrifice anything, including herself, to keep her girl safe, happy, and cared for.
One-time naughtiness, that was to be expected. In honesty, a small amount was welcome. How delicious to scold and punish! How sweet to forgive! But something like this cracked the foundation of their relationship.
How could Raven punish a girl who had said, in deed if not word, that she would not give Raven authority to govern her?
How could Raven put these thoughts into words?
How could this girl understand, if Raven herself could not?
She could whip Alena until she screamed, cursing the day she was born.
She could draw angry welts across the pale buttock cheeks, striping Alena from the waist down. She could inflict pain on each palm of the girl’s hand, wash her lying mouth out with soap, and restrain her to the bed in a humiliating pose.
She, Raven, could use every tool at her disposal to bring Alena to her knees, literally and figuratively.
But she could not make Alena trust her.
Without trust, what was the point?
And how could she know that punishing Alena wouldn’t fall into the trap of allowing the girl to dictate the terms of their relationship? Alena craved discipline. She needed it the way ordinary girls needed to breathe. She growled like a rusty motor when she hadn’t been spanked enough, and she purred like a kitten when she had. She needed limits, security, structure, and discipline.
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