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“Arms at your sides,” Mason said sternly. “You know better than to cover yourself in front of your Master.”
She did know better, in theory. If only she was twenty pounds lighter and, what the hell, as long as she was at it, twenty years younger. However, not wishing to compound whatever punishment awaited her, she forced herself to drop her arms.
Would he spank her as Lawrence had done on her first day of training? In spite of her trepidation, she couldn’t help visualizing herself draped over Mason’s muscular thighs. He would sit on his bed and pat the mattress, a sexy smile curving his mouth, his eyes glittering with lust…
Would he hold her down with his legs as Lawrence had done, her wrists caught in his large hand as he reddened her bottom? Would she feel the swell of his erection, hardening beneath her as she squirmed against him? The spanking would hurt—that was a given. But just the thought of his big, strong hands on her made her already swollen clit throb.
“Get down on the floor,” he ordered instead, his tone and his words like a pin popping the balloon of her fantasy. “I want you on your hands and knees, ass up.”
When she didn’t immediately flop to the ground, he took a step toward her, his brow furrowing. “Do as you’re told. Now.”
Not wanting to compound her infractions, Hannah hastily dropped to her hands and knees, glad for the cover of her hair as it hung down over her face. A firm hand pressed against her back between her shoulder blades.
“Forehead touching the floor,” Master Mason directed, forcibly guiding her down. “And spread those knees wide. I want to see your cunt.”
Her entire body flushed with embarrassment as she forced herself to assume the position. Not only her sex, but her asshole was now on full display. She had always been very shy about exposing that particular orifice. She nearly whimpered aloud with humiliation, even while her rational mind assured her this was nothing Master Mason hadn’t seen many times before.
She could hear him moving behind her. Then he said, “You’ve earned the paddle. Ten strokes.” He crouched beside her, showing her a large oval paddle made of wood, with a long handle covered in black leather.
Ice trickled down Hannah’s spine, her gut swooping unpleasantly as she stared at the terrifying implement. What had she signed up for? Should she have taken the out when he’d given her the chance? Was it too late to back out now?
Mason got to his feet, stepping out of her line of sight. “Don’t move out of position,” he said, now behind her. “Though I don’t mind if you scream.”
Hannah hiccupped with fear.
A calm, quiet voice spoke inside of her—it was the voice of Angelique, her alter ego.Be brave, Hannah.After all these years of living vicariously through the lives of the submissive heroines you’ve created, you have a chance to experience what you’ve only dreamed about.
Hannah managed to take a deep, cleansing breath. She let it out slowly as she willed herself to calm down. Yes. She would be brave and strong. She would get through this and make Master Mason proud.
The first blow came without further warning, smashing hard against both cheeks. The pain was all-encompassing, pushing all coherent thought from her mind. The second hit her right cheek, the third her left. She howled in pain, abandoning any thought of submissive bravery. It hurt. Fuck, fuck, fuck, it hurt!
Again and again the paddle struck. She grunted, yelped and tensed for each stinging blow. Sweat prickled in her armpits and hairline as tears flooded her eyes. She lost count. Gritting her teeth, she focused only on holding her position as the stinging oval crashed against her.
A particularly savage blow took her breath away. Before she realized what was happening, she had collapsed on the floor. She curled into a ball, the pain overwhelming her.
Strong arms lifted her with apparent effortlessness. Mason cradled her against his massive chest as he walked across the room. He deposited her on his bed, laying her gently on her stomach as she continued to whimper.
“You’re okay,” he said in his deep rumbly voice. “Just lie there and rest. You took a good paddling, all ten strokes before you fell out of position. I’m impressed.”
In spite of her tears, in spite of her pain, pride bloomed like a flower unfurling inside her. Mason was impressed with her. She was impressed with herself. She’d handled a full-on, blistering paddling, staying in that embarrassing position right until the very end. If someone had told her only a week ago that she could endure such pain, erotic or otherwise, she would have told them they were nuts.
She felt the give of the mattress as Mason got to his feet. She kept her head buried against the quilt, letting the tears flow, though her mouth had curved into a small, satisfied smile. A moment later, he was back, his weight making her roll a little toward him as he once again sat on the bed.
She sucked in a breath when his hands moved over her flaming bottom. He rubbed a cool and creamy ointment into her skin. There must have been something magic in the soothing balm, because, while her ass still felt tender, the worst of the stinging pain had simply vanished.
“Whoa,” she breathed. Then, quickly recalling herself, she added, “Permission to speak, Sir?”
He continued to stroke her ass, more of the soothing ointment on his hands. “Granted.”
“What is that stuff you’re using?” It had a lovely fragrance, too—eucalyptus, clove and something else—sage? “It’s amazing.”
“Mistress Aubrey, our resident doctor, developed this salve for impact play aftercare,” Mason said, still stroking her. She liked the feel of his hands moving over her skin. “There’s a compounding pharmacy in town that makes up large batches for our private use. I don’t know what all’s in it exactly, but I do know that medical-grade CBD oil is one of the key ingredients. Our slaves swear by it. As you might imagine, given our lifestyle and our training program, we order it by the case.”
Finally, he gave her bottom a perfunctory pat and got to his feet. Wiping his hands on a cloth, he said, “Punishment over. Slate wiped clean. There’ll probably be some bruising, but that’s to be expected.”
Bruising! Hannah wasn’t sure if she was horrified or thrilled. Maybe a little of both.
He held out his hand. “We need to head down to get lunch ready for the hordes. Up you go.”
