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“Do you deserve to be punished?” Mason asked when at last the plug settled into place.
It took her two tries to get out, “Yes, Master.”
“Does the plug help you remember what a bad girl you’ve been?”
Another whimper. “Yes, Master.”
He brought his hand down five times in the center of each cheek, hard enough to make her cry out. Waiting for her to settle back down, he rubbed a gentle hand across her punished flesh until she relaxed.
Without warning, he started back up, ten hard smacks on each cheek this time. By the time he finished, her skin glowed a soft pink. He examined the rosy color, comparing it to her usual fair complexion. Excellent. He had her exactly where he wanted her.
He couldn’t fucking wait for her ass to be red hot and throbbing beneath his hand.
“That will do for a warm-up.”
Her soft sound of distress was like music to his ears.
Stretching out one long arm, Mason wrapped his fingers around the handle of the paddle he’d placed on the ottoman. For their first scene, he didn’t want anything too severe—a medium-sized paddle coated in black leather, eight small holes evenly spaced across the rounded business end. This paddle was designed to sting rather than truly punish.
“This is going to hurt,” he assured her, letting the paddle rest across the center of her ass. “I know you can be a good girl and take it.”
“Please remove the plug, Master,” she said, a whimper threaded through each word. “Please. I’ll take whatever else you want, but please take it out first.”
Mason frowned down at the sub draped over his lap. “We’ve already discussed this. I have nothing more to say on the matter.”
She squirmed for a few seconds, her ass clenching and unclenching. With a hefty sigh, she settled down and murmured, “Yes, Master.”
With that, he raised the paddle and slammed it back down, hard enough that she jerked and cried out. He did it without any sort of warning on purpose, wanting to see her reaction.
A warm, soothing sense of pride spread out from his chest when she didn’t try to pull away from him, cover her bottom, or even protest. She merely got herself back into the proper position and waited.
“Good girl,” he murmured, then got right back into it, landing hard strokes around different parts of her ass and thighs with such quick succession that she stopped breathing partway through.
Mason drew the paddle away, waiting for her to draw in a slow, ragged breath, then another. Before she truly caught her breath, he went again, longer this time, pushing her further. He kept this up for some time, changing the location and the level of force of each stroke at random, varying the lengths of her reprieves.
Most of the Doms he knew—and certainly the others at the Manor—tended to be more systematic. Hell, Rafe even liked to make patterns whenever he used a cane. There was a time and place for that kind of punishment.
Not now . . . not with Addison.
Mason had long since discovered that the submissives who placed themselves in his hands were much more open, more honest, if he stayed unpredictable.
He wanted her honesty.
For reasons he couldn’t explain, he wanted all of her. More than he ever wanted any sub he worked with.
After several minutes of this, she started to cry. Not the deep, wracking sobs of a person in a great deal of pain. That wasn’t the goal of this exercise. No, her tears were those of a woman overwhelmed by both the thoughts swirling in her mind and the confusing sensations coursing through her body.
Soft, quiet, and utterly beautiful.
“Lovely,” he said, brushing tears from her upturned cheek with his thumb. “You’ve been such a good girl, Addison. You’ve earned a reward.”
Placing the paddle aside, he took his time removing the plug, easing it carefully out of her. Even with his attempted gentleness, every muscle in her body tensed up, her hands again forming tight fists around the edge of the sofa cushion.
“Thank you, Master,” she said, sagging with relief as the widest part came free. “Thank you so much.”
Setting the plug aside, he let his hand rest on her bottom, loving the warm red color and the heat of her skin. He found himself imagining how she would look and act and feel the first time she earned a severe punishment. He couldn’t wait for that day. “Since you took your punishment so well,” he said, gently rubbing her disciplined flesh, “I’m going to give you a choice. You can come on my hand right here, and then I’ll fuck you.”
She shivered. It almost made him smile.
