by Livia Grant
He didn’t let her get away with it. “Head up. I need to see your eyes.” She liked staring into his eyes, too. She sensed he was hiding nothing from her, and felt privileged that he allowed her to see him this exposed.
Stepping close enough to press against her from the side, he started the punishment with his hand. He was not striking particularly hard, and took time to massage her ass every ten smacks or so. It felt oddly comforting. It was especially nice when he dipped his finger through her folds, inspecting her wetness.
“You’d better be careful, Lukus. You’re not making me feel very sorry for being naughty.” Her wicked smile was an attempt to entice him into giving up the punishment for more mutually satisfying activities.
“This is just the warm-up, baby. This isn’t the part you’re supposed to hate. I want to make sure I don’t bruise you when the real punishment begins.”
Shit. That sounds ominous.
Lukus picking up the nearby ping-pong paddle was her first clue the warm-up was over. “We’ll start with this. It’s the lightest weight paddle I have. It’ll sting more than hurt, but it does cover a larger area, so it tends to sneak up on you.”
Something in her brain flipped with the first connection of the paddle to her pink ass. “Thank you, Sir.”
She was embarrassed by her impromptu comment, but Lukus seemed pleased. “Good girl.”
He set a steady pace with the paddle. It made a loud crack as it connected with her bare bottom. Each smack was not painful on its own. It was after what felt like a solid minute or two of paddling that Tiff could say it was actually starting to hurt. She wiggled her ass, trying to get away from the steady stream of swats, but managed to keep her feet planted firmly on the floor. After what seemed like an eternity, but in reality had been more likely another minute or two, Lukus stopped the onslaught, and set down the lightweight paddle.
He took time to gently caress her back, giving her a minute to regroup before she saw him pick up the next implement. “This, as you know, is a wooden spoon. It’s a heavy duty one. Notice that while the area it connects with is much smaller, it’ll deliver a much deeper sting where it touches.”
He started in on her ass again, this time with much faster strokes. “Oh…”
“A little different, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir. Not sure I like it.”
“Good. This is a punishment, after all.” His sly smile was not comforting in the least.
“Yes sirrr… ooohhh. That was a really hard one. Ouch!”
Lukus increased the intensity of the spanking, and her bottom felt it. For the first time since he started, she was fighting back tears. Several long minutes later, she lost the fight to not cry. He seemed unbothered by the tears streaming down her face and dripping to the marble below. Only when a sob wracked her body did she notice his clenched jaw. It was her only indication he may not have been enjoying this as much as he’d made out.
He finally stopped the onslaught on her ass long enough to put down the spoon and reach into the drawer, coming out with a large, heavy wooden hairbrush. For the first time, Tiff’s crying eyes showed real fear. Lukus took a minute, caressing her back again to soothe her. He reached for a tissue, and helped her blow her nose before continuing.
With a determined look, he pushed forward. “We’re going to end with the hairbrush. If I do my job right, you’re going to learn to hate this hairbrush.”
“I think I already do,” she whispered.
He must have heard her, because he was losing the battle to hide his smile. “Well, then, I’ll have to make you hate it worse. Let’s get this over with so we can go have dinner.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The first firm strike of the hairbrush had Tiffany standing straight up, rushing to cover her tender ass with both her hands.
Holy shit! That hurts.
“Tiffany, back into position. We aren’t close to done.”
“No way. That’s too much, Lukus. It hurts like a mother… well, it hurts.”
“Yep. Now bend over. Don’t make me get the ropes out. I know you like to be tied down, and I don’t want to ruin that for you by making you associate it with pain.”
What a nice guy. A real prince.
Even as she thought her sassy retort, she felt ashamed. She reminded herself that she was supposed to be feeling sorry right now. She’d entered this relationship with her eyes wide open, knowing Lukus was a hardcore Dom. More importantly, while she may not have liked the pain, she couldn’t deny that each punishment session had brought a deeper intimacy between them.
She cautiously resumed the position. Lukus stepped close, alongside her, holding her body still in a tight grip with his left arm while his right lit into her ass with the heavy implement. He began his lecture. “Why are you being punished, Tiffany?”
She couldn’t form the words through her tears. The strokes were spaced out perfectly to make sure they delivered the most pain possible. The sting just began to wane slightly, when the next butt-blistering swat arrived. She must have been at least a dozen swats in before he repeated himself. “Answer me, baby. Why are you being punished?”
Through a sob, she squeaked out, “I defied you, and went into the club when I shouldn’t have.”
“Yes. That upset me very much, but what was the worst part of you defying me?” The steady stream of loud smacks continued connecting with her ass, and she knew she must have been beet red by now.
“Please… Lukus…”
“I’m ‘Sir’ during a punishment. I’ll add on a few extras to help you remember.”
“Yes, Sir. I’m so sorry, please…” Tiff tried valiantly to pull her body free, but he was holding her too tightly.
“Why else are you being punished?” he went on.
“Because I put myself in danger and embarrassed you in front of club members.”
She’d been fighting against accepting her punishment mentally, gritting her teeth to try to power through it. The best analogy she could come up with in her precarious state was that getting this punishment was equivalent to eating her vegetables. Few people really loved broccoli, but they ate it because they knew it was good for them.
The strangest thing happened as he moved lower, spreading the heat to the tender sit-spot of each leg. Her tears were constant now. She wanted to hate him for doing this to her, but a small part of her felt the tension that had built to a crescendo level finally dissolving as he got closer to absolving her from her mistakes
He must have felt the same way, because he finally threw down the hairbrush. He hugged her from behind, pressing against her, only his jeans between them. Their eyes met again in the mirror, and she knew she was about to be fucked… literally. Her heart rate skyrocketed.
Lukus pulled back just long enough to quickly unzip his fly, pulling his ready-for-action cock free from his jeans and boxer briefs. He slid a quick finger through her folds, making certain she was wet enough for him. His chuckle at finding her dripping wet should have embarrassed her. It didn’t. She just wanted him inside her… now.
His fast insertion, going balls deep in one stroke, was exactly what she’d wanted. “Oh, my God. Yesss! Thank you, Sir.”
“Fuck, you feel so good, baby. You took your punishment like such a good girl. I think it calls for a bit of a reward.”
Through her panting, she asked, “Whose reward is this, anyway? You look like you’re having fun.”
He was pounding her so hard and fast, she was thrown forward against the bathroom counter, laid out before him. “This is when we get to have our make-up sex.” Grabbing her hips to pull her back to meet his forward thrusts, he grunted out, “Derek says… it’s some of the best sex.”
“Well… so far… he might be right. I think… I’ll reserve… judgment until…” Her voice trailed off as her first orgasm hit. Lukus didn’t slow down. He continued to ride her hard, extending her climax. Her tender ass was taking another beating, this time from the slapping of Lukus pounding her hard fr
om behind. He was about to come, when he pulled out completely, shooting his hot cum all over her ass and lower back.
“Damn it. I forgot to use a condom.”
She wanted to argue that he didn’t need to use a condom, but they’d already had that debate several times this week. She was not going there again.
After taking time to catch his breath, he decided to taunt her. “I don’t know. That was good, but I’m thinking we should make our own rule.” He was assisting her to stand on her wobbly legs, before guiding her to the massive shower.
“What rule is that?”
“From now on, we need at least two make-up sex sessions before all is forgiven. Deal?”
“Deal… Sir.”
Lukus grinned.
Chapter Five
Lukus
“I ate too much. I feel fat.” Tiff groaned.
“Baby, you’re absolutely perfect. Don’t you dare call yourself fat.”
“If you keep taking me out and making dinners like that, I’ll be fat soon enough.”
Lukus grabbed the plates and took them to the dishwasher. “Never fear. I have an excellent exercise plan to help you keep the weight off.”
“Let me guess. It involves bedroom exercises.”
“Bedroom. Living room. Kitchen. We already took care of the bathroom portion before dinner.”
Tiffany’s joyous giggle was music to his ears. For a brief moment, at the height of her punishment, he’d been gripped with a fear that he was pushing her too far, too fast. For a man who had punished wayward subs on a near-daily basis for years, Lukus was still not used to the foreign emotions her tears evoked in him. He had never before been as aware of a sub’s vulnerability—so in tune with her internal struggle between submission and strength. Maybe that was because he’d never met a woman with the kind of inner strength Tiffany had, unless you count her best friend, Brianna.
Finishing up the post-dinner clean-up, Tiffany broke their easy silence with a surprising question. “So, when are you going to tell me why you don’t want me to go to the club?”
He took a few seconds, gathering his thoughts before turning to face off with her. Even after all the times he’d seen her now, the sight of her still knocked him on his ass. She was the perfect vision of his dream woman; at least, physically. At five-six, her curvy body was the perfect mix of soft and toned. He could lose himself in her expressive, ocean blue eyes. Her long blonde hair was so sexy, whether it was up or like now, flowing down her back, framing her tanned face…
Or grasped tight in my fist as I fuck her hard from behind.
True, he’d never dreamed of being with a woman with her intelligence and spunk—with her ability to challenge him. Like now. She didn’t shy away from a topic that less than an hour ago had been the spark of a disagreement which led to her sitting on a cushion at dinner
Her expectant look reminded him she’s waiting.
“It’s not a simple answer,” he said.
“I sort of guessed that.” As if to make sure he knew she was still waiting, she crossed her arms and leaned her hip against the kitchen counter as if to say, “I’m waiting, buddy.”
“Careful with that tone. I’d hate to have to add another punishment on for sassiness.”
Her face softened, but she kept holding her ground.
The woman is fearless.
“It’s not that I don’t want you to go to the club. On the contrary, if we keep seeing each other, I’m going to want you to spend as much time as possible here with me. Let’s face it. I own the place. I live here. I work here. It’s gonna make it hard to be together if…” He’ was not sure why he stopped. She had him off base.
“If I run screaming from the building.” Her grin told him she was teasing, yet her answer wasn’t far from where his thought process had been heading.
“Not exactly, but close enough. This is all your fault, by the way.”
“My fault? How so? I haven’t freaked out yet. Well, except when you turned all Neanderthal man on me here tonight,” she said.
“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll talk about the club more if you tell me why you won’t go through the D/s contract with me.”
At the mention of the contract, her annoyance was obvious. They’d gone around and around about it daily since they first met, and he was as clueless tonight as he’d been every other day as to what her problem was with reviewing the contract. She finally broke their stare down to look away nervously. He forced himself to wait patiently for her answer. When she connected with him again, she looked confused.
“It’s hard for me to put into words,” she admitted. “I know it seems like a normal thing for you, but most relationships don’t start with a piece of paper—with lists of do’s and don’t’s. It just feels so… stilted. Fake even. Like we’re too lazy to put the work in to talk to each other and communicate.
“Baby, nothing could be further from the truth. The paper is just that. A piece of paper that’s meant to spark our conversation. To help us understand what turns us on and off. Without it, I feel like I’m flying blind.”
“That’s such bullshit, Lukus. You already know me better than you think you do.”
“Maybe, but like it or not, you’re still a newbie. There are so many hard-core kinks you haven’t even dreamed of, let alone tried. I know you and Bri used to go to clubs years ago, but the members of The Punishment Pit live at the far edge of BDSM play. It’s a smaller, more intimate club than any other one you may have gone to before. Where you might have gotten away with just blending in and being a voyeur at the clubs you’ve been to downtown, that isn’t gonna fly here. You got a small taste of that tonight with Robinson,” he told her.
“What? No one can come here alone? And just showing up means you want to get your ass wailed on?”
“No, of course not. But, we do have a lot of club rules that the other clubs don’t have. The vast majority of the members join as couples. We do have a singles group that likes to meet and play together safely, but we don’t have any street traffic. Everyone who’s here has gone through a rigorous membership process to make sure they are a good fit for our, shall we say, unique activities. The membership fees alone keep the clientele limited. We have a couple of switches, but the vast majority of the members are issued a leather cuff for the Masters and Dommes, and all subs must have a collar on at all times to show who they belong to. Unattached subs are given a pink house collar which will identify them as a single. It allows them to come and mingle without fear.”
“So the fact that I had no collar on at all—”
“Meant you were fair game. It’s part of the game that’s played. There is a lot of what to outsiders might look like non-consensual play here, but for those of us who know the rules, we know it is part of the game; the show. Come without a collar, and you’re saying you need to be taken in hand and punished. Believe me, there are plenty of Doms who are more than happy to help.”
The color had left her cheeks. He could tell his words were starting to sink in. He hated the idea of scaring her, but she had to understand the rules for her own safety. Tiffany was getting a little shaky on her feet; he stepped up to wrap her tight against him. They took a minute to let things sink in before she pulled back enough to look up at him, unshed tears threatening to fall. “I am so sorry. I had no idea.”
“I know, but that’s why we can’t just ignore talking about the contract. It is a critical part of being here at the club. I want to know how you’re going to handle a fire play scene, or even a blood play scene.”
“Holy shit. Blood? There could not be anything sexy about blood. Period.”
Lukus wasn’t surprised. “Honestly, it doesn’t float my boat either, but we have quite a few members who are into it, and many clubs don’t allow it. Being on the far edge, it means The Punishment Pit attracts a lot of those members. The play is edgier. It’s often portrayed as non-consensual. An outsider might call the play abusive. The sex… rape.”
“So how do
you know it’s not? Who keeps people from crossing the line?”
“Don’t forget, my other business is security, which includes security here at the club. The members themselves self-regulate very well. The Doms are very good at reading their subs, and since most come here as couples, they know each other intimately. But, safewords rule. We have house safewords, and most couples have their own codes for their own play. All play stops immediately. No exceptions.”
“And I was stupid enough to not only go in without a collar, but I have no clue what the club safeword is.” She looked horrified.
“Well, let’s fix that now. You already know yellow and red. Those will work just fine, but we have a universal ‘all stop,’ and that is snowball.”
“Snowball. Odd.”
“That’s why it’s perfect. No one will accidentally say it in the middle of a scene.”
“So how does it work? Is there a show every night?” she asked.
“Most nights. The club is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. On the weekends, we usually do an early and late show. Members can sign up in advance, and we talk about what they are looking for. Some members want to watch their sub being punished by the Master Dom. Others like to participate, or lead the scene. We usually work with them in advance to plan it out.”
“The Master Dom. That means you.”
“Not necessarily. Tonight it’s Derek.”
“Who was it last Thursday?” Tiff asked him.
“Me.”
“The Thursday before that.”
“Me.”
“And before…”
“No need. It’s always been me,” he admitted.
“Until?”
“I met you.”
The surprised look on her face was adorable. “Really?”
“Really. I told you, baby. You’ve rocked my world.”