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“Yes,” she whispered.
“Good. Come over my knee.”
She hastened to do as he commanded. At least face down he couldn’t see the flush of humiliation warming her cheeks. She stared at the wood of the floor, concentrating on the whorls of a knot within the grain. Cold lubricant dribbled in the furrow between her bottom cheeks. She clenched then relaxed as he’d taught her to do as his hands parted her. There was pressure against her anus as he pushed in a finger, pumping in and out, preparing, stretching her. She moaned. Then all too soon the cold glass plug pressed against her sphincter. She pushed back and the feel of something cold and solid slid inside her rather easily, seating its weight deep inside her bottom hole. She groaned, she had a definite love-hate relationship with anal plugs, particularly the unforgiving glass variety.
“Good girl. Up again.” She clambered upright. He pointed to the floor between his knees. Down she went. “Now, I ask again. What could you have done differently yesterday?”
“I shouldn’t have turned my phone off in the shop. I should have checked it when I arrived at the bar and phoned you to arrange an E.T.A. home time,” she muttered.
“Yes, you should have, but you didn’t. What could have happened to you after you passed out last night?” His eyes were steely.
She shuffled, her knees were beginning to ache on the unforgiving floor. “I could have had my money and phone stolen after I blanked out,” she whispered.
“What else?” he queried.
“Um, my new clothes could have been stolen as well.”
“What else?” he demanded. She guessed from his icy clipped tone that he knew that she was prevaricating. Giving a sigh, she told him what he wanted to hear.
“I could have been taken and raped.”
“Yes, you could. D’you know how I’d feel if that had happened?”
She shook her head.
“No?”
She shook her head again.
“A failure, because I would never have forgiven myself for not having protected you; or for not being there to save you.” His voice was husky and low with emotion.
Tears filled her eyes. “I am so sorry, Max. I just didn’t think. I don’t know why two drinks knocked me out like that. It has never happened before.”
“I have a theory that your drink was spiked. I suspected the barman but after talking to Ted, I don’t think it was him. We will never know what actually happened but Ted at least reassured me that you didn’t leave that couch all evening, even after Sandy left. I shall want a word with that young woman too. Why in hell didn’t she call me?”
“She hasn’t got your number.”
His steely gaze fixed on her. “Why. Not?”
She flushed at the tenor of his voice. He was mad at her. “I-I forgot to give it to her, I guess,” she stammered.
He pointed to the corner of the room. Hastily she scrambled to her feet and scuttled back into the corner. This was not a good sign. She knew that he only returned her to the corner in a discussion like this when he was furious and didn’t trust himself to punish her. She heard him move into the kitchen and switch the kettle on.
After about ten minutes she heard him walk through the room and rummage in his cupboard in their bedroom. He appeared in the doorway.
“Come into the bedroom.”
She followed him. He pointed at the bed.
“Sit. I am going to punish you but you already know that. What I want to hear, is do you understand why?”
She sat on the bed in front of him and met his gaze square on. “You’re going to punish me because you love me enough to want to keep me from making the same bad choices next time I am out with a friend.”
He nodded. “Good. You do understand. I love you, Josie. I want you as my wife and my submissive. You are too precious for me to allow you to risk any harm coming to you. I am going to give you a spanking to warm you up then I am going to cuff you to keep your hands out of the way and I am going to give you thirty strokes with my belt. Do you have anything to say?”
She nodded. “Yes, Sir. I want to say I am very sorry that I worried you and it won’t happen again.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “Good girl.”
