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“Or they just don’t say anything,” I say. “Maybe they’re scared of you. I’m not.” Lie. It’s a brazen lie, and he’s going to know it as well as I do. But I’m not going to back down, not this easily.
“No?” Victor lifts the brush away and pats his lap. “Bend over my lap now.”
“What? No,” I say with more certainty than I feel.
“Lucia, bend over my lap. I’m going to spank you with this hairbrush, and you’re going to thank me for it.” He smirks at me. “Unless you’re truly not afraid of me, in which case you can spend another day or so locked up in the dark.”
I glare at him, but we both know he’s already won. I hadn’t expected him to call me out on it quite so blatantly, though now I wonder why. I should’ve known better. I slowly get up, berating myself the entire time for my weak will, but there’s nothing else I can do if I don’t want to end up locked up again.
I lay down awkwardly over his lap, feeling like a child, helpless and unable to fight what’s to come.
Victor pushes the towel up my back to expose my ass. I suddenly wish I’d dropped it before bending over, because I feel even sillier like this, pretending to be clothed but my ass exposed to the world.
“See? It really doesn’t matter if you know.” Victor runs the brush over the backs of my thighs and on my ass, only tapping lightly. I tense up anyway, anticipating the hard blows. I still remember what his hand felt like, and I know the hairbrush will be worse. “Ten blows, and you’ll thank me for each one. Unless you think you deserve more?”
“No,” I say quickly. I want to say that I don’t even deserve ten, but I have no doubts that he’ll just raise the number arbitrarily because I argued with him.
He’s right. I may understand the game he’s playing with me, but that doesn’t mean I can win, and that thought is a bitter one. We’re just not on an even playing field, and even if I fight back, any victory would be a hollow one.
Even though I know it’s coming, I’m still shocked by the first hit, by how much force he puts into it. The pain makes me gasp and my eyes tear up, and I automatically cling to Victor’s leg to steady myself. My instincts are telling me to get off his lap before the second hit can land, but the threat of being locked up again keeps me locked in place. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for the next blow.
But nothing happens. “This is your only warning,” Victor says cryptically.
Warning? For what?
It takes me a moment to sort through my thoughts, and I remember he wanted me to thank him for each strike of the brush against my already-protesting ass. “T-thank you,” I manage to get out, though inside, I’m screamingfuck youas loudly as I can without saying the words aloud.
Almost as soon as the words are out, Victor strikes me again, with just as much force.Tenhadn’t sounded too bad, not compared to last time, but the hairbrush is so much harder than Victor’s hand. There’s no give, no warmth, and the wider surface spreads the pain out over more of my ass.
“Thank you,” I say quickly, because I don’t want to risk Victor adding more strikes.
“Good girl,” he says, and I hate that I’m relieved for his praise.
The brush comes down again, and I yelp as he goes back to my other ass cheek. He doesn’t hit the same spot, but he’s hitting me so hard that I’m reeling. I thank him anyway, even as tears well up in my eyes, and on the fourth blow, I’m openly crying.
“I can’t,” I sob. “Please stop. I can’t take ten like this.”
Victor pauses to lay the flat end of the brush against my burning ass cheeks, and it’s surprisingly cool. “You can, and you will.”
I whimper. What does it say about me that I’m grateful he gives me a few seconds to recover before the fifth strike? I have to force thethank youout with my ragged breaths.
The sixth and seventh blows make me feel like my skin is peeling off, but the eighth one—he brings the brush down hard on the same spot as the previous one, and I can’t stop my pained cry. “Th-thank you,” I sob. “Please. I’m sorry. I can’t. Please.”
“If you keep complaining, I’m going to add more,” Victor admonishes.
I immediately shake my head and clamp my mouth shut.
Just two more. Just two more.
I can do this. I’ve dealt with pain before, haven’t I? The spanking wasn’t exactly gentle, but… This is worse, so much worse, and he wants me to deal with two more.
But it’s only two.
Again, the brush comes down, and this time I scream before I wheeze out thethank youhe wants in barely audible tones. I brace myself for the tenth, but it burns like fire as he hits a spot he’s hit so many times before.
My last “thank you” is barely even a whisper. But it’s over. My head is dizzy with pain, my face is disgusting with sweat and tears, and my ass burns like fire, but it’s over.
Victor drops the hairbrush and gently guides me up. The towel falls to the floor. I feel so weak, and the thought of having to stand on my own makes me want to cry even harder. But Victor keeps his hands on me and directs me to straddle his lap—with my bruised ass directly on his thighs. When I attempt to lift up a bit to spare myself the pain, he pushes me right back down.
