Page 43 of Releasing Reenie

The answer, to both questions, was yes. I didn’t have to think about it.

“Remember. You wanted this. This was what you asked for. And when you start to question yourself, I need you to think about why.”

Mira. Her image popped into my brain. Mira crying and confiding in me. Mira, asking me for help. Mira strapped to a bench, vulnerable and on display. Mira, taking everything I gave. Mira calling Red. Calling it again and again. Mira crying in shock, apologizing for wrongs that weren’t her own.

I calmed myself with a shaky breath. That was why I was here. That was what I needed to focus on.

As if he’d read my mind, or sensed the shift in my thought process, Trent began to spank again. The smacks felt different this time, like he’d changed the position of his hand. I focused on picturing what he might be doing, but I couldn’t. I never used my hand. It just seemed… too personal.

Personal. Intimate. That was what was scaring me about this. I rarely had my submissives naked either.

“Reenie.” His soft voice was full of censure. “I can feel you pulling away, going somewhere else in your head. Stop it.”

Damn. He was good. And he was right.

“You’re a Domme, Maureen. I have no doubt that you’re a good one. One who cares. I know you care about Mira. You owed her your focus. Your full attention.”

Fuck. His words brought me to the crux of the matter. The few swats he gave me with his hand felt harder again, then suddenly stopped. I heard movements behind me and knew the warmup was over.

I had no idea what implements he’d chosen. I hadn’t asked, and he hadn’t shared.

The first swat took my breath away. The surface of the implement was smooth. Wood? It felt stingy on impact, then followed with a deep thudding pain that seemed to embed itself in my backside. Definitely wood.

As soon as I made my assessment, it came down again, once more stealing my breath. It hit again and again, leaving me gasping for air, unable to focus on anything but the pain.

Good. That was what I needed. I needed to not be able to think. To not let my thoughts stray like they had in the Dungeon. To be able to remember why I was really here.

Mira. My reputation as a Domme. My pride in my job. Those were the reasons I’d asked for this.

“You’re a good Domme, Maureen Stahlbaum.” Fuck, how did he keep doing this? Reading my mind the way he was? Knowing exactly what to say exactly when?

I knew I was a good Domme. I believed it. But hearing him say it…

Tears pricked my eyelids. A combination of pride and shame roiled in my chest. I didn’t feel like a good Domme. Mira had been counting on me, and I’d let her down. And worse, she was a student, not an experienced submissive. I’d been her first encounter with using spanking outside of the classroom punishments, and I’d fucked up royally.

“Harder,” I whispered. Trent was too good. Each swat was evenly paced and with a medium amount of strength behind them. I could anticipate them, and the amount of pain they would cause. There was a rhythm that I’d let my body become accustomed to.

The next swat came at full force. Trent listened to my request even while he scolded me for it. “Don’t tell me what to do. You are not the one in control here, Maureen.”

CHAPTER 22

Trent

“Harder.” Her whispered request stopped me in my tracks. She was trying to control things again. Wanting this to happen at her pace, on her terms. It wouldn’t help her. It wouldn’t help me.

Still, I gave her what she wanted, just once, just enough to create a false sense of security.

“You’re not the one in control here, Maureen,” I reminded her, then dropped my aim, bringing the paddle down hard across her sit spots and the tops of her thighs.

“You’re the bottom tonight. You are the one who chose to put yourself in this position, and you do not get to attempt to take the reins back now. Your time for negotiations has long since passed.” I punctuated every couple of words with the paddle across the tender strip of untouched skin, then paused only long enough for my words to sink in.

I watched her body language, her muscles tensing with my words, her inner battle for control evident in every miniscule movement. I saw the moment the acceptance came when her shoulders fell and her body went limp against the hold of therestraints. I heard the sucking in of air as she tried to hold back the tears I knew were threatening to fall.

And finally, after all that happened, after her internal struggle had been lost, I began to spank in earnest. I let the paddle fly across her backside again and again, watching for the skin to bounce back up only to flatten it back down with the paddle.

I was hitting hard, showing no mercy. That was what she needed. Her breaths were coming in gasps of pain.

I couldn’t tell what she was thinking anymore, but maybe that was good. It meant the struggle for control was over.

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