I couldn’t find words, though. I knew I had to reassure him. In a way, he’d been the Dom in this, and checking in after was part of aftercare I’d owe him.
My throat clogged up.
“Color, Ev?”
“G-green.”
The whimper that fell out of my lips after uttering the word had more to do with my shame at not being able to speak up than anything else.
“Is it okay if I stay with you while you have your call?”
At first, the words didn’t make sense. It took a few seconds to remember. I had to call Sir Ismael after I’d gone through my punishment.
Could I talk to him, though? Could I send him the video? Danny placed the phone in my hands.
It bothered me that I didn’t know what he was thinking.
Maybe I should’ve taken my chances with Santos. At least I’d feel comfortable snuggling up to him now, and he could kiss it better, and I’d still feel bad about crying, but not as bad. I wouldn’t be fighting against myself not to shed a single tear.
“Yeah.” I didn’t know that it would help me, but I understood that he needed the reassurance, and I wasn’t selfish. If he needed to stay around, for whatever it was that he was thinking, it would be the responsible thing, the right thing, to let him have what he needed. I’d just remember to brave up and ask Santos next time, even with the risk of making him uncomfortable. At least Santosknew more about Sir Ismael. I wasn’t sure that he was his biggest fan, but it had to be better. “Okay.”
“You’ll need lotion for that, by the way.”
“I know.” He had said it before, but I’d read about it first. Sometimes I worried that the people at Plumas thought I just threw myself headfirst into stuff, but I didn’t. I did my research. I was just not the best at talking about it with everyone the way they were.
I shook it off.
My fingers were trembling when I curled them around the phone. Shame curled in my gut. It would be better alone, but I was with Danny, who did this for fun on a regular Tuesday. He must be thinking…
No. Not going there. I had to focus on getting my heart rate under control. On stopping my chest from heaving up and down as if we’d just run a marathon, and stopping the focus on my dick, and…
And figuring out what I was going to say when Sir Ismael picked up the phone, and it was confirmed that I was a mess. Well, he already knew I was a mess. He had said that he didn’t mind if I didn’t have a lot to say, or if I wanted him to fill in the silences and guess what they meant. He checked in, of course, and I knew to safeword if he took things in a direction that I didn’t, but…
This felt more intense than usual. More overwhelming.
“Hello, piggy.”
My breath hitched. Was the volume loud enough for Danny to eavesdrop? Did I want him to? If he did, maybe he’d stop being worried, but…maybe he wouldn’t.
“Hello, Sir.”
“You took your punishment.”
No sound. I moved a hand to my chest, pressing against the racing heartbeat.
“How did it feel?”
“I…” Deep breath. I was still shaking, but it was better. “Did I do good?”
Before Sir Ismael could answer, and before I could overthink the answer, a hand moved to my hair.
Danny. He trailed his fingers down my scalp, brushing through my hair. I bet it was one of those things he wouldn’t admit to, but it helped, so I took advantage and leaned into the touch. He had moved close enough that I could lean against his leg. Maybe it was weird, and I was way more touch-starved than anyone suspected. I’d take it, though.
“You did.” Sir Ismael took a deep breath. “Did it hurt a lot?”
I shivered at the mocking tone. “Yes, Sir.”
He just hummed in acknowledgement. “Would you do it again if I asked?”
