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“You do, Sir.” Her voice was a quiet whimper as her eyes filled with tears. The third swat fell, breaking open the floodgates. “Three!”
She was beginning to get the point that this was to be a semi-serious spanking, and that Pax had a point to make about who had which role in this relationship by the time she counted out the fifth one, and answered the question that followed it, with a teary “Yes, sir.”
“Do you understand that you made a commitment to be my submissive, and that implies that you actually attempt to be submissive, even when you don’t agree, and that it’s not all fun and games and experimentation? Is that getting through to you now?”
“Yes, sir! Six, seven!” She cried out quickly as the two swats fell in quick succession.
“Good. I’m going to make these last three count.” He declared, even as she wailed her remorse.
“Who’s the submissive in this relationship?” he asked, changing it up slightly. As promised, the eighth swat fell directly in the middle of her sit spots, and her entire crease felt as if somebody had set fire to it. She screamed, a long loud scream that ended in a distraught wail, and she still had to answer his question.
“I am, Sir! Eight!”
“And who’s submissive are you?” The ninth fell in the same spot as the one before it, and the fight completely left her.
“I’m yours, Sir,” she sobbed into the bed sheets. “Nine!”
“That’s right,” he affirmed, raising the brush once more, preparing for the final blow. “You’re my submissive. You belong to me. Now, who do you belong to?”
The final swat landed across the tops of her thighs, as it always did, and she was prepared for it. “I belong to you, Sir! Ten!”
Pax’s large hand came to rest across the middle of her throbbing backside, and she squirmed as she heard the side drawer open once more. He wasn’t putting the brush away, he said he would brush her hair afterward. She heard the hiss of air as a small tube of cooling gel opened and a dime size dab of the cold liquid hit her flaming flesh. Arnica. Thank god for small favors, she thought, finally relaxing as Pax began massaging the gel softly into her welted flesh.
“Do you think you’ve learned a lesson tonight?” Pax’s voice was soft now, a gentle cooing, that could have easily lulled her to sleep, if not for her throbbing ass and the fact that he expected answers to his questions.
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re mine,” he said, as his large hands continued their soft kneading exploration of her bottom. “Being my submissive has many perks, and it probably has an equal amount of downfalls as well. You know, people always talk about how submission is a gift, and it is, and I get that. Your submission to me is a gift that I will strive daily to be deserving of. But you know what people don’t talk about? Dominance is a gift too. Being a dominant is a lot of hard work and self-sacrifice, just as being a submissive is—if the dominant is doing it right anyway.” He added the last part as an aside before continuing. “Being your dominant means I will always strive to make sure you are safe and well taken care of. I will spoil you when you are good, and I will punish you when you are naughty. I’m not the kind of dominant who relishes in making arbitrary rules just because I can. And because I don’t do that, I expect my rules to be obeyed, as giving you rules for your health, safety and well-being is how I do my job of making sure you are taken care of in all aspects of life. Your job as my sub is to follow my rules.”
The beautiful description of the dynamic brought a fresh wave of tears to her already wet eyes, and made her feel ten times as guilty over her earlier naughtiness, even though she knew that wasn’t his intent.
“What about your pleasure?” she whispered thickly. “Isn’t that part of my job as your submissive as well?”
“Sweetheart,” Pax said with a grin, helping her off his knee, and into a sitting position on his lap. “If giving me pleasure feels like a job to you, we’re doing something wrong. It gives me great pleasure to bring you pleasure, both in and out of the bedroom, and I hope that it’s the same for you.” He softly wiped the tears that were still making tracks down her flushed cheeks, and helped her to her feet, patting her bottom as she stood.
“Woo-ee. That is one torn up bottom, my love. I’d suggest you be on your best behavior the next few days, and give yourself some time to heal. You know the drill. Off to the corner you go.”
As she wrinkled her nose, and padded off to the corner to serve the time out Pax always required after a spanking, something niggled at the back of her brain. She felt as if she was forgetting something important, and she didn’t know what it was. It was probably just a heady combination of guilt and exhaustion. Role play and a hair brushing could take a lot out of a girl, she was learning.
The corner that Pax had dedicated as her “naughty girl corner” was nearly directly below the overhead fan, and she relished the cool breeze drifting down to fan her scorched backside. As she stood silently with her hands behind her back, and her nose to the wall, she could feel Pax’s eyes boring into her, watching to make sure she followed protocol. If she so much as moved a muscle without asking his permission first, he’s be over there in a heartbeat, applying his hand to her already heated backside as she stood, and her time in the corner would start over once he was finished. It was a lesson she had learned the hard way. Pax was a bit of a hardass. He ran his own life with military like diligence, and he had equally high expectations for his submissive, but she didn’t mind. He could be equally as gentle, and was quick to offer a hug of forgiveness, a word of encouragement when it was needed the most, and to bring her to her knees both literally and figuratively with an eloquent reminder of what submission and dominance really were about, as he had done earlier, and did often.
Pax cleared his throat loudly, her signal that it was time to come out. Head down she crossed the room to where he still sat on the bed, and kneeled at his feet. She didn’t look at him, but forced her voice to ring loud and clear enough for him to hear. “I’m sorry, Sir, for my mistake. I won’t argue with you again. Please forgive me.”
“Look at me, Diamond.”
Only then, with his express permission did she dare to meet his gaze.
“You’re already forgiven. Now get on up here, and sit between my legs,” he instructed moving his body fully onto the bed so that he now faced the door instead of the window, propped up by a giant pile of pillows behind his head, he sat with his legs in an Indian style fashion, open wide enough for her to sit comfortably between them, and picked up the hairbrush that had only minutes ago, been used as a weapon of assault on her not so innocent bottom.
She sighed in contentment as the soft bristles caressed her scalp and worked their way through her fine blonde hair. She hadn’t had her hair brushed by someone else in years, and never by a man. It had always been her sisters. Having Pax pamper her head with the same brush he had previously used to punish her bottom was an exquisite experience, fraught with delicious contradiction.
She leaned into him, relishing every stroke of the brush that she had earlier cursed. They sat in silence, no words needed. The whisper of the brush, her naked body leaning against his, and the dull ache in her bottom against the down comforter told a story of its own.
Her eyes began to close, and Pax, patted her shoulder, softly. “Time for bed, little one.”
She caught a glance of the clock, as she rolled over into her spot and smiled as she snuggled against him. “I got to stay up after all,” she boasted with a tired but satisfied giggle.
“Yes, you did, but it’s going to have to go on your weekly report. This is why it’s not a good idea to disobey the boss or your dominant—especially when they are one and the same. You get punished twice over.”
“It was worth it,” she replied happily, just before she drifted off to sleep.
