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Chapter 10
Professor Rogers stared befuddled at Emily as she jogged the perimeter of the dungeon. He watched her pace get slower and her breathing more ragged. Still she continued to lap him. Not that he could blame her. When she finally stopped and submitted, she was going to be in for one hell of a punishment.
All weekend she had been a near perfect submissive. A totally different person from the woman he worked with in the library. Besting her and using her, punishing her and pleasuring her had been fun. He’d enjoyed every second, but none of it had given him the same thrill that he got when their banter in the library ended with her bent over, getting her ass plugged and spanked. The difference hadn’t been a bad thing. It had allowed them to separate their relationship for the weekend from their working one, something that they had both needed at the time.
Once they had gotten past the initial shock of being paired together, they’d settled into an interesting and all-encompassing dynamic. Truthfully, they had gone a little bit all over the place at first, but eventually they had found their footing, and figured out the roles that worked for them. And now their weekend was coming to a close.
The truth had been heavy on his heart and mind since the second his eyes had popped open this morning. He had planned to continue as they were and give her some nice marks and a plethora of orgasms to remember him by. But apparently, Emily had the same weight about the weekend ending and an altogether different plan for coping. She had gone into full brat mode, the likes of which he had surely written about but never seen so up close and personal. This made all her previous brattiness while they’d worked together seem mild in comparison. Not that it mattered at this point. She wanted to play the brat, so be it. He had no choice but to default to brat tamer mode.
Emily finally stopped, hunched over with her hands resting on her knees, and her eyes on him while she tried to catch her breath. She scanned the room and then looked back at where he waited, as if deciding whether it was time to give in, or if she had a few more laps in her still.
Chuckling to himself, he lifted his hand and waved. He could wait her out. This sort of brattiness looked good on her, although it confused him. Brat and age play tended to go hand in hand, or so he had always thought. But Emily held hard and fast to age play of any kind being a limit she wasn't ready to soften. He would respect that, but it would be more difficult to give her what she needed right now without it. And he intended to make his conundrum known, without pressuring her to submit to something neither of them were ready for. He was just as determined that she would call him Daddy though, over and over again, until her throat was hoarse from her cries. And she would like it. They both would.
He watched as Emily made it about a hundred more steps before giving in to the exhaustion. With a heaving sigh, her shoulders wilted, and her body seemed to deflate. Her steps were short and slow as she made her way to the center of the play space where the spanking bench was.
When she reached him, neither of them spoke. Emily's eyes were filled with shame as she eyed the pile of implements he had collected from the cabinet. She chewed on her bottom lip as she met his eyes. Clearing his throat, he raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms over his chest and waited. By now she knew him well enough to know his expectations. And just like her little sprint around the dungeon, he would wait this out. This wouldn't work until she was ready to submit. She had to be there mentally and physically. Mind, body and soul. He wouldn't settle for anything less.
He could see the warring of emotions inside her playing out on her face. Nervous, resigned and finally, ready, her gaze dropped to the floor and she scuffed her bare feet on the dark wood.
"I'm sorry I locked you out of the bathroom and disobeyed. I'm sorry I ran away when it was time to be punished. Please will you punish me now, Sir?"
"Daddy," he corrected. "Please will you punish me now, Daddy?"
Her lips fell into a straight line and he could tell that every word was forced. "Please will you punish me now, Daddy?"
"Yes, I will, kitten. Or should I call you brat?" He couldn't help but tease as he helped her onto the spanking bench and began to fasten the restraints that would hold her in place. The bench of course was the finest state of the art, cushioned with handcrafted black leather padding in all the right places and designed to hold a sub securely in place while also providing comfort. The pain they experienced would be intentional and not from kneeling on hard wood for long periods of time. There was a thick padded table in the middle, with restraints for wrists and thick straps that went across the subs back and midsection. There were lowered padded appendages for a sub to kneel on. The end result was a perfect ass-in-air position with a clear view of the submissive’s privates.
He finished tying her in place, then stepped back to admire his work. Her ass, stuck up for his admiration and attention, bore his marks from their earlier weekend sessions, but they were fading. Those had been serious but short. This would be different. These marks would last well beyond their time together, leaving a tangible reminder for days to come. It was evident that this was what she needed, and if he were being honest, he wouldn't have it any other way.
Looking down at the implements at his feet, he picked up a small leather riding crop and flicked it in the air to get a feel for it. It landed across the fleshy part of her bottom with a satisfying snap and left a small red splotch on her skin. He nodded to himself. It would work for a warmup before he moved on to other things.
A flick of his wrist and another snap on the opposite cheek. He repeated this action in silence for several minutes until her bottom was a solid pale pink.
He flicked the crop against her sit spots, watching as she tried to squirm when he hit that sensitive strip of skin where the bottom meets thigh. She was too securely tied to manage more than a bottom wiggle, and it honestly looked more adorable than anything.
Snap. Snap. Snap.He created a line of matching marks on the undercurve of one cheek and then the other.
When he finished, he stepped forward and lay the length of the crop against her back.
"Are you ready for your punishment, brat?" he asked, menacingly.
"I…" she faltered, and he could hear her gulp in the quiet room. "Is that not what that was?"
"No, kitten. That was just the warmup."
Emily cringed. Of course, she knew that this punishment would be a bad one. She had known that there was no way it could be close to over. But hearing him confirm that out loud was a different beast entirely.
Especially when she was tied to a spanking bench with her ass in the air, her pussy exposed and a pile of implements he hadn’t yet used still waiting within arm’s reach.
This morning, her little prank had seemed like such a good idea. Now it seemed less so.
"Let’s see, brat," he mused from behind her. "What implement should I use on your naughty little bottom next?"
The word brat twisted her stomach and made her feel a little nauseous. She knew it fit. Her actions had been totally brat like, going far past the usual smart-assed banter they enjoyed when working together. She wasn't entirely sure where it had come from, either. Brat wasn't a word that had ever been used to describe her, or one she would have ever used to describe herself. She knew it was fair. She just wasn't sure how she felt about it.
"There's a nice switch here," he continued, “and a sturdy wooden paddle. A lovely thick strap that looks like it could leave some nice welts…"
She whimpered. No matter what he chose, it was going to be painful and hard to take. Couldn’t he just pick something and get on with it?
