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I’m not going to be able to get her to be quiet unless I remove her ability to speak. So I stop spanking her for just long enough to shift my grip, one arm snugged tight around her waist, my other hand covering her mouth.
“Quiet down,” I tell her. “I’m explaining where you went wrong so you can go right next time. This is going to hurt like hell if I have to keep going, and you’re only going to have yourself to blame. Now, are you going to talk to me like a reasonable human? Or are you going to keep acting out like a wild thing until I break your will?”
I feel her shiver over my lap as she hears the words break your will. I think she would invite that. That’s an aspect of her personality I might have to start taking into account. Someone who doesn’t want to be good, but does want to be hurt won’t respond super well to spanking, at least not behaviorally.
“I’m going to move my hand away,” I tell her. “But if you don’t speak respectfully, I’m going to get two things, and one of them will be a gag. Do you understand me?”
She nods a little, so I let her have her mouth back, knowing all too well she’s going to use the privilege to get herself right back into trouble.
“I know what I did,” she snaps, landing herself right back in trouble with her irritated tone that amounts to a confession.
“If you know what you did, then you almost certainly know better,” I respond patiently. “Why don’t you tell me?”
“I was rude about the spaghetti.”
“You hurt Tinker’s feelings, and there was no reason to do that. She’s helping you.”
“She’s just sitting around soaking up all the adoration. Everyone thinks she’s so cute and sweet,” Fiona says. I think I hear a little note of jealousy there, which is astounding in so many ways. Fiona is beautiful, privileged, a completely one of a kind she-wolf, and Tinker, she’s cute and quirky but in the general scheme of things, I think most people would think jealousy would run the other way.
“She’s not your competition,” I say gently.
“Of course not!” Fiona sounds offended. “It’s not about competition.”
“What is it about?”
There’s a moment where she could be vulnerable and share with me what she’s really feeling. I can sense we are on the verge of a breakthrough here; the headstrong heiress might finally show some of her less armored side.
“It’s about you getting all the way fucked,” she says.
I guess not.
Our conversation has come to the natural end of its course, and now there’s nothing to do but keep spanking her sassy ass until she acquires some semblance of an understanding of either consequences or good manners.
“Ow! I fucking hate you!” she curses as I start spanking her again. It’s for her own good. As much as I love her, I know that her temperament leaves a lot to be desired, and it’s discipline like this that will help her develop some semblance of acceptable behavior. I was around Rick for long enough to know that his parents didn’t correct anything their kids did. They acted as if everyone in the family would have immunity from their actions forever.
Her ass is starting to get very red indeed, so I have to once again remind myself why I am being this harsh with her. It could very well be a matter of life and death. Her parents weren’t well oriented in the world. They didn’t know when they were under threat because they thought everyone was too far beneath them to hurt them. That proved not to be true.
That’s why they are dead, and Rick is not far behind them and it’s also why I have the murderous pup Fiona over my knee now.
* * *
Fiona
I am absolutely suffused with shame. I was a little ashamed when I was being rude to Tinker, but what he’s doing is making me feel new, deeply biological versions of the emotion I didn’t even know I was capable of experiencing.
Henry is so fucking strong, too. No matter what I do, I can’t wriggle out of his grip. I kick, I twist, I try to push off or away, and he just drags me back into position and lands more spanks directly on top of one another until I wail for mercy.
He’s such an asshole. I can’t believe he is doing this to me after the time I’ve had lately, losing my whole family and then being expected to play nice with a bunch of pretty much feral strangers he scrounged up from god knows where.
My ass is absolutely on fucking fire, and he seems insistent on completing this somehow. He wants me to act like I care about all of this. He wants me to be like oh no, I’m such a bad girl, I’ll be so much better, blahhhhh. I know if I want it to stop, I have to at least pretend to be sorry, but I’m not sorry and I’ve never been good at acting.
And then something happens.
He just keeps spanking me, his big strong hand making harsh contact with my cheeks over and over. But the longer the punishment goes on, the less I am feeling the pain as pain.
The first few slaps he gave me outraged me and shocked me. Then everything got hot and swollen and tender. But now it’s not that anymore. It’s sensation building on top of itself, sinking deeper, becoming something much more than discipline. Spankings are weird, I learn. They sting and there’s pain and there’s ache, but after a while it just becomes a sort of heat that all blends together.
I stop fighting it because I don’t need to anymore. He can keep this up and I can lie here and resist, and as the heat gets even hotter and the sting gets even stingier, I find myself starting to feel tingles in places I did not expect to experience them.
