Page 37 of Savage Games

She needed to learn her subservience to me was for her own good. Needed to remember she was happier when she simply obeyed me. When she fought my orders, when she questioned my motives, it only caused trouble and pain, for her especially.

Obviously, I had become too lenient with her.

Too relaxed in her daily discipline routine.

She had become wild and uncontrolled.

Well, that all stopped.

Tonight.

Taking another deep breath, I stared down at her trembling form. Without saying a word, I reached for the belt of her robe. Pulling it free, the already loose robe opened and revealed the rest of her naked body. I realized how vulnerable she looked. She was so small, so delicate.

So breakable.

Elizabeth reached up and tried to close the robe.

“Don’t,” I warned.

With a slight whimper, she lowered her head and let the robe fall to the floor.

“You know what I want to hear, Elizabeth.”

Her shoulders shook. Her face hidden behind a curtain of still damp hair.

“Say it,” I commanded through clenched teeth.

The longer she delayed, the thinner my patience… and my control… became.

Inhaling a shaky breath, she sniffed. “I’ve been a bad girl and need to be punished.”

“Louder.”

“I’ve been a bad girl and need to be punished.”

“Louder,” I yelled.

Elizabeth fell to her knees. Clutching at my trousers, she looked up at me and sobbed, “I’ve been a bad girl and need to be punished.”

Motioning with my head, I ordered, “Get on the chair.”

Using the bedpost for leverage, Elizabeth rose on shaking limbs and took a reluctant step toward the punishment chair. She was intimately familiar with it since I had an exact copy back at my estate. Not a day went by she wasn’t strapped to it one way or another. I had become slack with her discipline over the last week and it had led to nothing but chaos and disruption in our lives. I wouldn’t be making that same mistake again.

Sizing up the two padded platforms, one bracketed on top of the other, Elizabeth climbed onto the higher platform, the one with the stirrups. Wisely remembering that was the one I preferred for her more severe punishments, my smart little girl knew there was no hope in angering me further by placing herself on the lower platform in the hopes she would get away with a simple, forceful mouth fuck as her punishment.

As she sat on the platform and was about to lean back and place her feet in the raised stirrups, I stopped her.

“On your stomach.”

Her face crumpled as her mouth opened on a silent sob.

She knew what being on her stomach meant, knew the pain she was about to endure.

Flipping onto her stomach, Elizabeth placed her knees in the smooth cups at the base of the stirrups and pointed her toes high before stretching her arms high above her head.

Circling the chair, I tightened the leather restraints around each ankle before moving to her wrists.

“You should feel honored, my love. Prince Albert first designed this chair specifically for a brothel in Paris. You are experiencing history in its original locale with this punishment.”

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