Page 23 of Savage

Hunter sighs and makes a hand motion. “Stand up.”

“N-no,” I say quickly. “I mean. I’ll do it.”

“Stand up,” Hunter repeats, much harsher this time. “And bend over my lap.”

I swallow hard, slowly getting to my feet, and I wish I’d just done what he’d asked—told—me to do. I give him a beseeching look, but he ignores it, looking pointedly at me, then his lap. My shoulders slump, and I slowly bend down over his lap. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I just…”

Hunter places one hand on my back to keep me in place. It feels oddly warm in comparison to his cold attitude. He places his other hand on my ass.

“Still bony,” he says with disapproval. “Regardless. The punishment is for not obeying me, and to show you that there are indeed consequences. I will be lenient this one time. Don’t test me again.”

I shudder, and I find that his disappointment somehow hurts. I don’t know why. I don’t understand it. It’s not like I want to kiss his feet, or thank him for taking me in, but I don’t want this either.

“Ten blows,” Hunter says. “Count them and thank me for them. If you forget, it won’t count for the total.”

Tears spring to my eyes, but I nod. “Y-yes, sir,” I whisper. I brace myself, not knowing how much pressure he’s going to put behind his blows.

Hunter squeezes my ass once, then raises his arm up. I tense up, and the first blow lands hard on my ass. I gasp at the pain, the way it spreads across the area.

That wasn’t a warmup blow at all.

I don’t know if I can stand ten of these. Either way, I say, “One. Sir. Th-thank you.” My vision is blurred from the tears that I’m barely holding back.

He huffs quietly, then brings his hand down again on the opposite ass cheek.

“Two. Thank… thank you,” I say. How am I going to handle eight more of these? My ass is already burning, and I’m dreading the feeling of his hand coming down on me again and again. It’s not the worst pain I’ve ever felt—or so I have to remind myself—but that doesn’t mean it’s easy to handle either.

The next two are the same, landing on unblemished parts of me. I thank him for them and sniffle to hold the tears back.

The fifth blow lands right on top of the first. I startle, because the pain of it is even worse, and tears start to flow. I still thank him, even though I can barely get the words out. By the seventh, I’m having a hard time keeping track of the blows, and I don’t even think it’s because of the pain. It doesn’t even hurt that much.

It’s just something about him spanking me in general, not giving me the chance to even hesitate for a moment. I can’t be eager for everything he wants all the time, always ready for something that sounds disgusting and horrible to me. Can I?

I brace myself for the next blow, expecting it to be harder or faster.

Instead it’s a much lighter tap. It still stings as it lands against my tender ass, but I’m so surprised by the change that I almost forget to count it.

“Eight. Thank you?” I say, confused.

The ninth is similarly light, on the opposite ass cheek. I thank him and relax a little.

The tenth lands right in the center, catching both sides at once, but like the preceding ones it’s not nearly as hard of a blow.

It’s a relief, and it almost makes me feel like he’s a little less mad at me. Like maybe I’ve done a better job, somehow. I promise myself I won’t hesitate again, but… I know that isn’t exactly true. I can’t stop myself from hesitating from things that sound so unappealing.

“Good,” Hunter says, guiding me upright. I feel wobbly on my legs, but it doesn’t matter because he pushes on my shoulders to let me know he wants me on the floor.

I kneel in front of him, my ass burning in pain, and stare up at him with my tear-stained eyes.

“Let’s try again. Kiss my feet, and thank me for taking you in.”

I swallow hard, but nod. His feet are probably clean, even though they’re bare. I look down at one of his feet, then the other, before slowly leaning down to kiss the top of the left one. “Thank you for taking me in,” I say before kissing the right one as well.

“‘Thank you for taking me in, Master,’” Hunter corrects. “Do it again.”

I hate calling him master. It seems so ridiculous, and sir is so much easier. But I nod, not wanting another spanking from him. I kiss the tops of his feet then say quietly, “Thanks for taking me in, Master.”

“Good girl,” Hunter says, and for the first time I notice some hint of positive emotion in his voice.

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