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There—the first trace of trepidation in her tone.
“I want to send you a lesson about what happens when you keep me waiting…” Pausing, I allowed my words to hover over her before I went on. “That there will always be consequences for your choices.”
If anyone should already know, it was Tiffany.
“I understand, Master.” Turning, she rested her face toward me on the cool wood. “I won’t ask for mercy.”
Good, because you won’t be granted it.
“Eight then.” Our gazes locked briefly before my attention returned to my target. “Count them for me.”
Bringing the paddle smashing down against her upturned ass, I waited as the noise of the strike reverberated through the air. Her gasp drew my focus to her face and triumph raced through me as I acknowledged her knitted brow. The paddle had done its job.
“One, Master.” She blew out the breath she’d been holding.
“Yes, that was one.” Yet already a delicate pink hue was visible where the implement had impacted her delicate skin. “Are you ready for the next?”
“Y-Yes, thank you.”
Good enough. Taking aim, I landed the second swat, putting a fraction more effort in than the first.
“How many?” I demanded.
“Two, Master.”
Tiffany’s eyes were squeezed closed, her fingers balled into small fists by her face. Evidently, she was finding the blows difficult to manage, which was precisely the point.
“Good girl,” I offered, although my tone was clipped.
She would receive all my praise once the deed was done, but caught in the midst of her rapture, all I could think about was how best to make each remaining strike count.
“The next two are coming on your right cheek, little girl.” Shifting closer to take aim, I lifted the paddle, and spanked the delicious orb hard in fast succession.
“Oh God,” she panted, burying her face on the wood between her hands as her feet danced below. “Three and four, but that hurts, Master.”
“Yes.” Removing the paddle, I stroked her reddening flesh. “That’s the crux of this, Tiffany. Now, the left side.”
Turning my attention to her other cheek, I smacked her with the same intensity, relishing the desperate cry that bled from her mouth.
“Five and six.” Face down over my desk, her words were muffled. “Master, please!”
“Don’t even think about begging me for compassion, little girl.” I shook my head in silent disgust. “You knew what you were getting into.”
“But they’re so painful,” she mewled, once more adjusting her feet in a futile attempt to assuage the onslaught.
“It’s a short, sharp shock.” Resting my palm on her ass, she inhaled, clearly struggling to keep still. “You’ll thank me for the final two, and if you take the swats well, perhaps…” My hand slid between her legs, cupping and squeezing her pussy. “You’ll be rewarded.”
“Master…” Her croaky tone suggested that even the promise of pleasure might not be enough. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Oh, you can, little girl.” I’d told her it often enough, yet still she needed to hear it. “You’ll take the strikes, and if you delay me further, I’ll add two more for good measure.”
“Please.” Her body stiffened at the threat. “I’ll be good, but no more.”
Leaning over her, I brushed my lips over the cooling skin of her lower back, ignoring the eager thrum of my cock. I would have to wait for satisfaction, just as she would.
“Stick that gorgeous ass out as far as you can,” I commanded as I straightened, watching as she shifted her position to please me. “Now, stay that way. No moving between strikes.”
“Oh God,” she moaned, clawing at the desk. “Master, I—”
