by Loki Renard
“Oh, yeah? How? You gonna sit me down and talk therapy me?”
He snorts. “I’m going to tie you up and whip your ass until you cry.”
He must see the look of shock on my face. “With your permission, of course.”
“You want me to tell you it’s okay to whip me?”
“I want you to tell me you want to feel fully forgiven. All the way to those toes that curl so fucking sexily every time I’m inside you. You need to be punished, Briarlee. And not for me. For you.”
Maybe he’s right. Maybe the reason I’ve been bumbling my way through life, never really achieving anything of any merit is because I didn’t think I deserved it. A shrink floated that idea past me once. I changed the subject.
This new, improved Daniel probably won’t let that trick work.
I feel my face flushing with embarrassed heat. In all the time we’ve known each other since the accident, he’s never so much as mentioned that I deserve punishment—but I’ve always known I do. How long has he known what I craved?
He comes over to me, stands me up with him, and tips my chin up so I meet his eyes. “It’s what you want, isn’t it, Briarlee. More than that, it’s what you need.”
I give the smallest of nods, barely perceptible. But he sees it. Daniel knows me better than any other person on this planet. He knows what I want, what I need. He knows what I think. He knows what I dream, and somehow, all that knowing makes it worse. If he knows what I need, and he plans to give it to me… even thinking about it makes me shiver where I stand. I’ve been a very bad girl.
I avoid his gaze, and in doing so, find myself distracted by his shirtless torso. His muscles ripple powerfully beneath his skin in a way I’ve only seen on men in movies, and I’m pretty sure they were CGI. But he’s real. Every day, it seems like he gets a little taller, a little broader, a little more muscled. He’s transforming before my eyes.
He says he’s got a whole lot more to take before he’s done with the treatment, so this isn’t even his final form. What will he be like when he’s done? And what will he do to me along the way? Even trying to think about it makes me quiver.
“Briarlee…” He growls my name and brings my attention back to him and what he’s saying. Wait. What was he saying?’
“Hm?”
“You need to be punished like a bad girl, so you can feel like a good girl. Don’t you.”
I squirm. He makes me feel so small. He makes me feel as though he can see right through me. Maybe he can. He’s smart enough to take me apart mentally, and he’s known me for long enough to have an instinctive understanding. Like I thought I had of him, except I didn’t, because I never really paid half as much attention to him as I did to myself.
“Tell me, Briarlee.”
“I mean, I don’t know.”
“You were crying last night,” he reminds me. “You said I was too good for you. You said you didn’t deserve this. Or me.”
“Well, uhm…”
I don’t know what to expect from him. He’s different after he comes. Much less aggressive, but still utterly ultra-masculine.
“You want me to let you get away with everything?” His voice is low and gravelly. It makes my heart skip a beat.
“No,” I whisper.
“You want me to teach you a lesson like the naughty girl you are?”
“Yes,” I say, even more quietly.
“I need to hear you, Briar…”
He’s going to make me ask for punishment. I can’t believe I’ve gotten to this point in my life. This is humiliating. But it’s also an opportunity to get what I need so badly. Maybe it’s okay to ask for it.
“Please,” I say. “Uhm, punish me.”
“Good girl,” he purrs.
He takes me by the hand and draws me over to the couch. Again I find myself over the back of it. This time he’s not going to fuck me. This time he’s going to punish me. Even the thought makes me blush as I squirm in place, naked and vulnerable.
“Let’s start with the getting fired from job after job because you don’t want to follow anyone’s rules,” he says, letting the belt drape over my bottom.
“Rules suck,” I pout.
Crack!
The belt meets my ass in a wicked snap. Heat and pain bloom on my skin. I gasp and reach back, but he pushes my hands up and holds them at the small of my back.
“You’ve just never been made to follow any,” he says. “You’re spoiled, and it’s not doing you any good. I’m as much to blame as anyone else. I let you get away with things over the years. I never pointed out when you were being a brat.”
“Because you were my friend!”
Crack!
“I’m not your friend anymore, Briarlee,” he growls down at me as I gasp for air. The way the belt lands against my tender skin hurts like hell. This isn’t hot. I am actually in trouble. I can hear it in his voice. This man who has known me all my life. This man who has fucked me in the back room of a club, and across this very couch. Daniel knows me. He knows me to my core. And that also means he knows what a bad girl I am.
“You’re not my friend?”
“I’m a lot more than that,” he rumbles. “You’re mine now. You’ve always been mine, but I was too nervous to claim you. I let you run around. I let you give this cunt to men who didn’t deserve it…” He runs the belt down between my legs. I feel the leather against my pussy, which is wet as hell. Do I like this? Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. I seem to like everything he does, no matter how sinful, humiliating, or painful it is supposed to be.
What he’s saying touches me somewhere deep. Somewhere I’ve never been touched before. It finds the little closed-off part of me that makes me think I have to do everything alone, and it opens that door.
The belt lands again, three swift cracks across the middle of my ass. He’s giving it to me hard. This isn’t a pretend punishment. He’s not playing. He is dominating me. He is showing me what he knows about me. He is making me understand in a physical way that things are different now.
“Owww! Danny! That hurts!”
Another three strokes land. They hurt. My ass is blazing. My legs are kicking. I want to buck up from the couch, but he keeps one hand on the small of my back and he makes me lie there and feel the pain he is inflicting.
“Breathe, Briarlee,” he says, his voice calm and resonant. “Deep breaths. Good girl.”
I gasp a breath.
“Why? This hurts!”
“You need it to hurt,” he says. “You need to know I mean this. You’ve been throwing your life away out of guilt. That stops today. You don’t have to feel bad for what you did as a drunk fifteen-year-old girl. You don’t have to feel sorry for me anymore.”
The belt lands again, a hot stroke that sets my ass on fire. I shriek, but he keeps holding me there.
“You needed a good spanking back then,” he says. “And you’re getting it now. So you can put that whole event behind you. Alright? You’ve been punished, and more important…”
He eases his grip and helps me stand up, turning me to face him. There are tears in my eyes as I look into his handsome, strong, kind face.
“Most important of all… you’ve been forgiven. For everything.”
I burst into tears against his chest. He drops the belt and holds me close, letting me wet his skin with the misery I have been holding onto all these years. I have never understood why it was him who got hurt, and not me. I have never comprehended why I always seemed to skate through, while Daniel took the brunt of the consequences.
My ass hurts, but my conscience does feel more clear. I feel physically lighter than I have in a long time. As silly as it might seem, having him whip my butt actually makes me feel better.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For everything.”
“I’m going to look after you, Briarlee,” he murmurs in my ear. “I’m going to make sure you’re okay.”
“I know you will.”
Chapter Nine
Da
niel
I leave Briar’s place feeling the best I’ve ever felt. I have my health. I have my woman. What else is there? Oh, right. The final piece of the puzzle. Letting the people who said I couldn’t do this see how wrong they were. Once the company realizes I’ve developed a medication with truly life-saving effects, they’ll have to put Regenermax into production. Sure, the sexual side effects are something to consider. Maybe it will need to be given under medical supervision for the thirty-day treatment period. We can do that. We can probably even find ways to relieve the tension. Maybe robot prostitutes.
I laugh to myself. Did I really just think of robot prostitutes as a medical aid? I wonder if we can get insurance to cover them. Hmm. Maybe we can. Increased libido is no joke. The energy has to go somewhere. I’ve probably got about four, maybe five hours before I have to come again.
The drive for sex has become more like the drive for food. Start getting rumblings three or four hours after the last meal. It’s possible to ignore it and skip, but as time goes on, the hunger only grows.
I go back to Edison Enterprises. Not to the lab. To room 42 A. To find the man who tried to crush my dreams. I find him in his office, being mediocre. He looks up, surprised to see me and mumbles something about not having any appointments.
“Remember me?”
“Can I help you, sir?”
He doesn’t remember me. Being healthy is as good a disguise as any superhero costume.
“I’m Doctor Daniel Knight. I developed Regenermax. You were telling me my treatment wouldn’t work on humans. Well, it does. And I’m the proof.”
I expect him to stammer some kind of stunned apology and promise to put the drug into trials. That turns out to be a seriously naive expectation.
“Shut the door.”
I do as he says, not entirely sure why I’m taking orders from this guy. He takes off his glasses and gives me a sharp, pitying look. God, I hate pity.
“I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake, Doctor.”
“What do you mean?”
“We said we weren’t prepared to deal with the side effects. That no human trials could take place. You had no legal right to take that preparation, Doctor. You’re going to need to be quarantined.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You’re under the influence of a powerful sexogenic compound.”
“Sexogenic? You just made that up.”
He sighs.
“You think you’re the first researcher to come up with a compound like the one you made? You’re not. There are a dozen patents on drugs that enhance growth across all human systems. Regenermax isn’t even unique. What you’ve stumbled on is a compound first synthesized in the sixties.”
“Then why isn’t it on the market? Why aren’t people being treated?”
“The military own the patent. Because you’ve taken the drug, I’m required to inform them. And you’ll be required to go into quarantine in one of their facilities.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“The drug is their property. You took it. Therefore, you become their property.”
“That is not how the law works.”
“Tell that to the men with guns.”
My mind races. Can they do this?
I can’t actually think of a reason why not. The truth is, law only applies when the people responsible for enforcing it want it to apply. When your military decides you’re their property, there is no due process.
“It might not be so bad,” he says. “If they determine what you have is something they already have, they probably won’t keep you any longer than a year or so. Of course, they might want you to progress your work through them too. Who knows. Maybe this will turn out to be a net positive for you, Doctor Knight.”
“A year?”
“We’ve already forwarded them your research information,” he says. “We did it around the time we were considering the clinical trial. They would have been interested in meeting you anyway. Now they more or less have to. Can’t have a man running around in general civilization under that kind of influence. You’ll be a danger to yourself and others.”
This is my fault. I didn’t have to come here and tell him this. I didn’t have to rub it in his face. I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I considered that there could be some kind of legal consequences, but I figured they might try to sue me, which wouldn’t get them very far because they don’t pay us enough for it to be worth suing us over. I did not expect this.
“I’m not interested in working for the military.”
“You might get interested,” he says. “The confinement could become quite tiresome if you don’t.”
“I’m leaving.”
“Good luck, Doctor Knight,” he says, picking up the phone to betray me.
I leave Edison Enterprises in a rush, trying not to panic. I do not want to be involved with the military. Their historical treatment of scientists and test subjects suggests I will regret it. I have two choices left to me.
I can stay, and wait for the military to come find me. Bad choice. Or I can get the hell out of here while I still can.
It’s not even a difficult decision to make.
I rush home, pack what I need. The rest of the Regenermax, and not much else. I go to the ATM, cash out my savings. It’s enough to get by if I stay in cheap motels. Then I remember Briarlee. Fuck. What am I going to do about Briarlee?
I decide to tell her the truth.
I was going to call her, but it’s safer to just throw the phone away. They can track that. Fuck. I don’t want them getting into it, so I take a hammer and I pound it until it’s just plastic dust on the bench.
My laptop, I’m taking. Turn the wireless off and they can’t find me. I need the data on it. I’d need a laboratory to synthesize Regenermax again, but I could never do it without my research notes.
I walk out of my apartment. I don’t bother to lock the door. That will save them breaking it down later.
I head straight to Briarlee’s place.
“Hey,” she smiles as she greets me at the door. “Ready for dessert?”
God, she looks good. I fist her hair and pull her in for a deep kiss. She sighs into my mouth, a perfect little fuck angel.
Before I know what’s happening, I have her on the floor, legs spread, pussy wrapped around my cock. The front door isn’t even all the way closed. I don’t care. With her legs wrapped around me, I’m in heaven, plunging in and out of that perfect pussy that is mine, all goddamn mine.
“Wow,” she pants when she’s once more filled with my cum. “It gets hotter every time. I think I have rug burn though.”
“Sorry,” I rumble, turning her over onto her stomach. She does have a little red rash on the crowns of her cheeks. It’s kind of cute. “Nothing to worry about,” I tell her with a little slap that makes her yelp. I deal with that by kissing her thoroughly until all complaints turn to soft little breathy moans.
“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” she smiles up at me. “Used to be a day or more before you’d come to ravage me.”
“I had to come,” I say. “I…”
Oh, god. I had almost completely forgotten why I came here.
“This is serious,” I say, sitting her up in my lap as I sit cross-legged on the floor. “The company is sending the military after me. They say my treatment is owned by them.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“They wanted me to wait and be picked up. Told me I was property of the government now, because of the treatment and, shit, I don’t know, Briarlee. But I’m heading out of town. I’m not going to tell you where I’m going because they’re probably going to work out that you know me and they might ask you some questions. I don’t want you to get caught in the middle of this. You should go and stay with your mom and dad.”
“What?” She scowls. “I’m not going to my mom and dad’s house. I’m coming with you.”
* * *
Briarlee
What he said sounds like bullshit. I don’t know if I even believe him, except for the fact that Daniel, in any form, has never lied to me. Not even when we were kids. He looks serious too. Not scared, just determined.
“The military aren’t going to know what hit them if they take you,” I smirk.
“I’m stronger than I was,” he says. “But I’m not bulletproof. I don’t know what they’d do with me once they took me, but I don’t really want to find out. It doesn’t feel good to be referred to as property.”
“Well, sometimes it does.” I smile up at him.
“You’re different,” he smirks, kissing me again.
“I’m yours, so take me with you.”
“This could be dangerous, Briar. Really dangerous. It’s not just the military. It’s me. The treatment still isn’t at its peak. I could be your worst nightmare. And they could arrest you for criminal conspiracy, or something, I don’t know.”
I don’t care.
“I’ve spent the last fifteen years wishing you hadn’t sacrificed so much for me,” I say. “That drunk driver would have hit my side if you hadn’t turned the car. You took the impact for me.”
“I was fifteen, I panicked. I wasn’t brave or…”
“Yes, you were,” I say. “You knew exactly what you were doing. You looked at me and you pulled the wheel.” I remember everything that happened that night. I remember how brave he was. I remember how I teased him when he picked me up because he’d had to sneak out and was still in his superhero-themed pajama pants. He was a real hero that night, and he’s been heroic every day since. It’s my turn to be brave.
“Briarlee, I am not going to let you put yourself in danger. I’ll be in touch.”
“How?”
“I’ll call you.”
“And give yourself away? If the military is really after you, they will tap my phone. They’ll read my emails. They’ll see you interacting with me.”
His expression darkens. He knows I’m right.
“If you want to go on the run, let me go with you. Let me be the Clyde to your Bonnie.”
“Bonnie was a woman.”