Page 40 of The Way You Hurt Me

"Dimitri…"

"Yes, Willow?"

She looks at me like one watches a predator in the vicinity, with apprehension. Because she's one hell of a smart girl.

"Thank you," she croaks. "For the security. Without them, without you…"

"Please, finishes that sentence. Tell me what would have happened if I wasn't having you watched."

But she doesn't.

"You would have been raped. Taken against your will right here. And you know what they would have done after? There are two choices, really. One of them is you ending up as cold as they are. The second choice is worse. Do you even know what it is?"

She thinks she does, by the way her eyes go down, and her cheeks flush with shame. I have to rob her of that delusion.

"The other is lovely Tom here—his name is Don, by the way. Maybe check IDs next time you plan to lock yourself with two strangers twice as big as you—would have knocked you out, dragged you out of here, and dropped you off with some of his pals downtown. You'd be shot up with drugs, until you're so out of it you don't remember you own name, and don't even notice the many ways they all use you. And only then would he have killed you. You'd be one of the many names of the news. Twenty, pretty, smart, and gone."

"I don't…" She swallows back a sob. "I didn't think."

"That much is clear, petal." I don't think I'm a cruel man, as such, but I need her to understand quite clearly that what happened tonight can never happen again. "I am going to punish you now. Do you know why?"

She blinks up at me, shocked.

"Because you put yourself in danger. It's selfish. You're not allowed to risk your life without thinking of the people who would be hurt by your recklessness. And as you quite clearly aren't capable of that on your own, I will have to show you that actions have consequences."

"You're not my father."She's found her backbone.

"You don't have one of those, hence the laundry list of daddy issues you're clearly dealing with."

She moves to stand, which gives me the opportunity to take her arm and twist it behind her back, with ease. "What did you plan to do here, hm?" I wonder out loud. "Face me? Fight me? You have no power. You're vulnerable.Weak."

I draw my hand back and slap her ass on the last word.

She yelps.

It's not the first time I've done it to her. But last time, I barely touched her. Certainly not on her bare skin.

Now, I bend her to the mattress, holding her down with my knee, and lower her panties with my free hand, before slapping that ass again.

"If you're not counting out loud, they don't count as part of your punishment, petal," I grit between my teeth, with another resounding slap.

"One!" she screams.

"Good girl." I run my hand over the sensitive, fast-reddening skin of her plump ass, allowing myself to look at it for the first time.

Fuck,I'm so, so hard.

But this isn't about satisfying myself. This is a lesson.

"If someone had bothered to spank you then, maybe you wouldn't need it now, huh?"

"Fuck you!" she squeals.

I slap her harder, in the exact same spot I hit moments ago, and she winces, her body arching both toward and away from my touch.

I can see wetness coat her legs, and moans escape those lips between the sniffles, and the counts.

She counts to ten like a good girl. I reward her with a caress. Only after we get to ten do I remove my knee from her back.

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