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“Humiliation can also be a tool. A means to an end.”
“What end, Sir?”
“Submission.”
Her mouth formed a cute little “O” shape that immediately made him think of how good it had felt to fuck her face.
“The way I’m choosing to use the severe pain checklist item will be to push your submission.”
Mal looked away, shifting her weight from side to side. “I’m surprised you’re willing to try that…with me.”
“This time you’re going to be honest about what’s going on in your body and brain.”
“That’s not fair, Benson. It wasn’t dishonesty—”
“Fine, then you were lying to yourself—”
Mal was shaking her head in a quick little jerking motion. “I didn’t know, hadn’t processed—”
“The results are the same,” he snarled.
That put an end to the argument.
Mal dropped her head, shoulders tight. He wasn’t sure if that body language was shame or resignation.
“This is why I want you to punish me,” she whispered. “I can’t… I can’t stand that you hate me.”
Benson sat back, rubbing his lips with two fingers as he processed her words.
She’d said something similar weeks ago, when they’d first argued about playing the game. But it hit differently tonight.
“Mal, I don’t hate you. I never did.”
“You have every right to,” she whispered.
The guilt in her tone reaffirmed his decision to go through with this. The punishment wasn’t necessary, but it was needed. A good punishment wiped the slate clean.
“The punishment is the last thing we’re going to do.” Benson sat forward once more. Taking her throat in his hand, he stroked the side of her neck, his thumb playing with her earlobe. She tipped her head back, eyes half closed.
It was time to ease into the scene, assuming she was ready.
“What color?” he asked.
“Green, Sir.”
“Good.” He gave her a neck a little squeeze, watched her expression morph to pleasure. “What’s the focus of this scene?” He needed to be sure she was fully in the moment.
“Severe pain.”
He choked her just enough to make her moan. He knew exactly how much pressure she liked. This was going to be hard for her, so he made a slight adjustment to his plan. “From now until I tell you otherwise, we’re in high protocol.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You’ll address me as Master Benson. Every time you speak, I expect to hear those words. You need my permission to do everything except breathe. Understand?”
“Yes, Master Benson.”
High protocol wasn’t his preference, but his Dom instincts said she needed the structure in order to get through this.
