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“Answer me.”
“Yes, sir, please, sir.”
“Good girl.” He gestured behind me, and I turned to find a rack full of fucking toys. Canes and floggers like the one I’d seen on stage. Flat wooden shapes too, that looked a bit like ping pong bats. “I think we should start with the paddle,” he said. “Good for close contact, easy to read the sub.”
“You want me to hit her with that?”
“Only if you want to.”
“If you’re sure, like.” I took it from the wall. It was heavier than it looked. The handle felt nice in my hand, like it was made for my grip.
“If you’re playing nice, with a decent build-up, you want your submissive’s ass to be well adjusted. The longer the warm-up, the easier she’ll manage the pain. Ever heard of the frog in a pan being warmed slowly?”
“Heard that, yeah.”
“I’m not sure whether the frog would sit it out that long, but the analogy works. Of course there are times you may want a quick, sharp punishment. The rules are there to be broken, but it helps to know them.” He slapped Cat’s arse, steady thwacks over and over. “See the way her skin blooms, Callum? Isn’t it fucking beautiful?”
I nodded, lost for fucking words again.
“Come over here, she doesn’t bite.”
I shuffled over, still unsure, like he’d flip out any second and swing for me. “Feel how warm her skin is.”
I reached out slowly to her arse, brushing her skin with my fingers. My dick fucking jerked, and I stepped away quick sharp. “Yeah, nice.”
“Are you ready for some proper pain, Cat?”
“Yes, sir,” she hissed. “Please, sir.”
“I think you should be asking Callum, not me.”
She turned her head over her shoulder, gorgeous green eyes on mine. My dick twitched again.
“Please, Callum. Please hurt me.”
Masque moved away, gesturing that I should take his place. I approached slowly, warily, out of my fucking depth but really fucking horny. I wished this was Sophie, wished it was her asking for pain. Soon. It would be soon.
I took a breath, looking again to Masque for confirmation.
“Short, sharp smacks,” he said. “Feel her pain, Callum. Her body will show you what’s right.”
Shit. My knuckles were white around the paddle, heart like a fucking steam train. I was too fucking gentle with the first thwack, it hardly made a sound. I didn’t make the same mistake with the second, and she flinched under me, breath heavy.
“That’s it,” he said. “Feel when she’s ready for the next, her body will tell you.”
When I felt her relax at my side, I hit her again, harder this time, and she clenched her muscles, letting out a groan. I found my groove, watching and feeling, and landing that fucking paddle on her skin whenever she felt ripe for it. She rocked against me, breath fucking ragged, the softest fucking moans from her lips.
“Harder,” Masque said. “She’s not made of glass.”
I did hit her harder, and this time the thwack was fucking loud. She yelped, and it got me straight in the dick, the scent of her pussy teasing my fucking nostrils. Her groans encouraged me, instinct taking over. I hit her fucking good, listening to her breath, feeling the tension in her legs as she jumped under the paddle.
It felt fucking awesome.
I felt like a king.
“Make her beg,” he growled. “You’re in control here, Callum, let her know it.”
“Beg for me,” I grunted. “Now.”
