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Dahlia felt calmer as he let her go. She nodded, still nervous, but now determined. “Yes, okay. Yes, Sir. I’m ready.”
“Good girl.” His smile of approval warmed her to her bones.
He led her to the bench. It consisted of a high metal sawhorse with a wide, padded leather-covered plank affixed on top, padded arm and leg rests on either side.
He helped her to straddle the bench so her shins rested comfortably on either leg rest, her forearms settled against the armrests. Her legs were spread forcibly wide by her position, her ass perched at the end of the bench, her sex on full display.
She felt incredibly vulnerable as he secured thick cuffs over her wrists and ankles. This is just a reminder A reminder to do better. Despite her fear, a shivery thrill of anticipation moved through her.
The last spanking had ignited something deep inside her, and its flame still glowed. It was as if she were suddenly the heroine of her own bodice-ripping romance. She was strong and brave, and she would take her punishment with courage and grace.
Despite her promise to herself, she startled when Hayden’s large, warm hands moved over her ass. “Thirty swats,” he informed her. “To keep yourself focused, you will count them aloud.”
Unlike the first spanking, when he’d eased her slowly into it, this time the first smack was quite hard, the sound of his palm against her flesh cracking the air. Dahlia yelped at the stinging impact, and then, recalling herself, called out, “One!”
Without pause, he struck her again, just as hard, on the other cheek. “Two,” she gasped, tears springing to her eyes.
“Three. Four. Five, ouch!”
No way was she going to get through thirty swats.
“Flow with the pain,” she heard Hayden say from behind her. “Embrace it. Welcome it. When you resist and tense, you just make it harder.”
Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one bound to a sawhorse getting smacked!
His hand cracked against her bottom again and again. She cried out the numbers, squeezing her eyes shut as she struggled to process the pain. On and on it went, each blow pressing her against the bench with its force.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. Beads of sweat dotted her upper lip and forehead, and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Her hands were clenched into fists, her thighs gripping the smooth leather of the bench as she struggled to hang on.
Several times her safeword rose to her lips, but she refused to let it out. She was glad for the restraints, as they prevented her from involuntarily covering her ass to avoid the blows.
Then, at around the twentieth blistering smack, something odd happened. Maybe it was because her skin was numbing to the pain, but it no longer stung. She still felt the impact of every blow, but the sensation was different now, almost pleasurable. While she continued her chanting count, the urgency had ebbed from her voice.
“That’s it,” Hayden urged from behind her. “Accept it. Embrace it.”
A strange kind of dark, fierce joy rose inside her. She was right where she needed to be, and it was perfect.
When he delivered the last blow, she barely managed to whisper, “Thirty.” She was light as a feather, floating in some kind of altered state. While she was fully conscious, she was unable to speak or move. She didn’t even feel the need to breathe. She just drifted in a dreamy, deeply relaxing semi-consciousness, a sense of complete wellbeing soothing her spirit…
She opened her eyes to see Hayden crouched in front of her. “There you are,” he said, smiling as she focused on his handsome face. “You took your punishment beautifully, Dahlia.”
A goofy smile spread over her face without her permission. She felt loopy, almost drunk. “I feel kind of strange.”
“Just take it easy,” he soothed as he helped her from the bench. He must have removed the cuffs when she’d been floating in la la land. She swayed a little as she stood, and Hayden’s steadying arm came around her shoulders.
He led her across the hall to the bedroom and directed her to the bed. She collapsed against the mattress with a sigh. Sensation was returning, and pain crackled along her nerve endings. Her ass was on fire. The skin was hot and painfully tender.
Real life crowded its way back into her head. She had no idea what time it was, but it had to be pretty late. She had to be at the hospital early the next morning. She needed to get up, get dressed, and get home.
But when Hayden appeared at her side a moment later and stroked that wonderful balm into her tortured skin, she melted into the mattress, her body limp, her mind emptying.
“That feels nice,” she murmured, giving in to his ministrations with a contented sigh. In spite of herself, she surrendered to a deep, overwhelming fatigue as it wrapped its arms around her and pulled her down, down, into its warm embrace…
