Page 98 of Lucky's Trouble

He laughs loudly. “Many who were much smarter and stronger than you have already tried. Yet I’m still here.”

I grunt, still struggling but not getting anywhere. “You don’t know who I am.”

“Maybe not, but I know your type. Settle down now, or I’ll make it twenty.” He opens a drawer under the tabletop. I don’t have to wonder why for long because he lowers the object for me to see. “I find this one gives a little more impact for my especially naughty pets.”

The long and narrow black leather paddle is studded with little metal spikes. I immediately stop trying to get away. Ten swats with this will leave me bleeding and unable to sit for days. Twenty would be absolutely unbearable.

“See? It’s already having more of an impact than my words or threats.” He scratches the paddle up and down my left ass cheek. Even with the gentle touch, the spikes sting. “After each swat, I want you to count and thank me. Do you understand?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir.”

I brace myself, squeezing my eyes shut as I hear the whir of the paddle moving through the air before it strikes me. Pricks of shooting pain sear their way through my ass and up my back like little bee stings. There’s no hope in remaining silent, so I don’t even try to hold back my pained sob.

“This is the last time I’ll remind you to count,” he warns.

“One. Thank you, Sir,” I cry out.

Again, my only warning is the sound of the paddle breaking through the air before it lands on the other cheek. After the immediate sting comes a rush of warmth, like a sunburn, only worse, and all I can do is take it.

“Two. Thank you, Sir.”

He lands eight more blows, never in the same spot, covering every inch of space and ensuring I won’t forget his lesson any time soon. I’m in full-on hysterical sobs by the time he’s done and tucking the paddle back into the drawer.

“Hush, Pet. It’s all over.” He maneuvers me until I’m sitting in his lap. I’m beside myself, unable to fight back or care that he’s now trying to soothe me. “And the best part is now that you’ve taken your punishment, your transgressions will never be mentioned again. Completely forgotten in my eyes.”

I want to scream and yell and remind him that I’m not a willing partner in his twisted games, something he seems to have forgotten, but I can’t risk further torture. Now that I’ve experienced a taste of what he’s already planning to do tonight, I’ll do whatever I can to make it as easy as possible on myself.

“Excuse me, Sir. Is now a good time for your breakfast?” a woman asks from behind me.

“Excellent time. Thank you.” He meets my gaze. “Would you like to remain on my lap or sit next to me?”

Without answering, I get up and move to my own chair. He really is delusional if he thinks there’s any part of me that wants his touch. When my ass meets the leather, I wince.

Plates are set in front of us containing fluffy scrambled eggs, a bowl of fruit, and two sausage links. I eye the gold utensils, wondering how I could hide the knife. Unless I could somehow stick it inside me without him noticing, there’s no way. Maybe that’s why he’s keeping me naked.

“This looks delicious. Can you bring my guest a cup of coffee and a glass of juice, please?”

“Of course.” The woman walks out, returning at record speed with both beverages.

“There,” Sir says, placing his napkin over his lap and looking at me expectantly. I follow his lead and drape the gold-trimmed white napkin over my thighs. “Please, eat up.”

I pick up my fork and stab a piece of egg. I hate that it’s the best scrambled eggs I’ve ever had, airy and seasoned just right. Not even my upset stomach can reject such a delicious morsel. It pisses me off.

“Tell me about yourself.” Sir takes a stab at a hunk of cantaloupe and places it in his mouth.

“What do you want to know?”

“Where are you from?”

“Utah.”

“Ah, the Beehive State. I’ve spent my fair share of time in Park City. Where did you live?”

“Small town down south.”

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