Page 90 of Redline Baby

I actually check. My breathing. My head. The pain.

"No."

"Still want to continue?"

My face burns. "Yes, Daddy."

"Good boy."

Then he lowers my sweatpants and underwear.

No surprise. No question required. We agreed to this.

The next strike lands on bare skin.

I yelp. Actually yelp. Like a fucking puppy.

"Fuck, Daddy!"

The next one follows, then another.

"Ouchie—Daddy, fuck, that really hurts."

"It is a punishment, silly boy." The spoon lands again. "That's the point."

He's relentless. Not angry. Not erratic. Just strict. Consistent. Every strike arrives with the same awful certainty, and my body starts trying to escape even though my brain has no intention of stopping the scene. My legs kick. My hips twist. Soren hooks his leg securely over mine, holding me in place exactly the way I asked him to.

The realization makes something low in my stomach clench. I know how to get out. One word. Red. Three taps. Either one and his leg moves. Either one and the spoon stops. That certainty sits underneath everything. Safe. Solid. Which apparently leaves the rest of me free to be completely pathetic.

"Ow, ow, ow, Daddy, I'm sorry."

Another strike.

"Please."

Another.

"Fuck."

My face is wet now. I don't even know exactly when I started crying. The pain fills all the available space in my head. My backside feels like it's on fire. My body is impossibly aroused by the whole thing, which is humiliating and unfair, but underneath all of it there is a strange quiet.

No wondering. No guessing.

I know why I'm here. I know what I did. I know what happens when this ends.

Soren pauses again, his palm replacing the spoon.

"Kit."

I drag in a shaky breath.

"Yellow?"

I check again. "No."

"Can you keep going?"

I bury my face against my arm. "Yes, Daddy."