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Chapter Thirty-Three:
Keep Counting
My knees ached againstthe cold, hard ground, but even that pain wasn’t enough to change my calm state. I welcomed the pain, basked in it and the sea of green swirling around my mind as my Dom ate his dinner above me. He fed me bites every so often, gave me sips of water like I was someone unable to fend for themselves, and I fucking loved every single second of it. I knew what was coming when he had his fill, knew that no matter how much he ate, it wouldn’t be enough to truly satisfy him.
Nothing could but me.
As soon as I heard his plate slide across the table, my heart began to pound in my chest, anticipation burning a hole through me as that familiar feeling of being branded took hold of me, and I was completely at his mercy.
I always would be.
“You were a good girl,” he said quietly, reaching over to touch my face. “How are your knees? Did you get enough to eat?”
The tenderness had me weak, even if I knew it would be short-lived. “Yes, Sir. Green.”
“Good. I want you to pick two more numbers. The first will be how many times I edge you, and the second will be how many times I make you come for me after.” He pulled me in by my chin and leaned down to kiss my lips. “The second number had better be higher than the first, but other than that, I have no requirements.”
I thought about it for a few moments, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle too much after being punished. “Are two and three okay then?” I asked.
“Yes. I’ll be spanking you thirteen times, I’ll edge you twice and make you come for me three times. Tell me you understand.”
“I understand, Sir.”
“Good girl. Up, sweetheart. Bend over my lap.” He slid his chair back and I instantly got into position. I’d never felt more exposed in my life, but I knew he’d take care of me — and I wasn’t disappointed.
He started slow, trailing his fingertips up and down my spine to relax me. He explained that not all of them would be hard, that he’d take breaks in between, check on me often and that he’d done this enough times that he knew what he was doing ... but I didn’t want to listen to that. I didn’t want to think about how many times he’d done this or touched someone else or had someone else at his mercy like this.
How many other people he’d punished.
While he spoke, he pulled my lace panties down below my ass and rubbed the skin, sometimes gently, sometimes squeezing, sometimes rougher. “Just warming up your skin,” he said. “Tell me what your safeword is so I know you remember.”
“Squirrel,” I breathed, trying not to move too much as those erratic, perfect touches made me want to squirm. “It’s Squirrel.”
“Good girl. I’m going to have you count them, and if I sense in your voice or your body language that you can’t handle any more, I’ll stop. This is the first time I’m punishing you so I want to make it clear that I will not hurt you. Do you understand?”
“Y-Yeah.”
The first one took me by surprise — he hadn’t told me we were going to start and it wasn’t hard at all, but the growl he let out explained it nearly as well as his words. “Yes, Sir,” he corrected. “That one was extra. Try again.”
Godfuckingdamnit, if the first one is making me wet, I can’t imagine what I’ll be like at the end.
The thought had me dying for it. “Yes, Sir. I understand.”
“Good girl. Much better. Now ... count.”
Slap.
It jolted through me, making my cheek bounce from the upward swing. “One, Sir.”
Slap.
This one landed on the other side, making me twitch and let out a soft moan. “Two.”
Slap. Slap.
Two quick ones, both softer than the last but just as effective. I counted them out as my clit throbbed and I felt arousal and need and heat pooling in my gut, and Sterling gave me five seconds of reprieve as he rubbed the reddening, heated skin.
“Color?”
