Page 43 of Cherry Auction

“Number ten,” he says, and then, with no more preparation, I hear the slightest whirring noise and then?—

I see white and scream. Not from pleasure. This is pain, only pain. It explodes across the very bottom of my ass cheek, barely above where it meets my leg. Like a burn more than a blow. Tears immediately burst out of my eyes and down my cheeks.

“Now,” he says, sounding short of breath even though I’m the one weeping in pain here, and all he did was whip me. “Thank me and ask me for the next.”

How? I doubt if I can find my voice. I suck in a hiccupping breath. Though I suppose, as I finally do manage the breath, endorphins rushing in and the pain ebbing away with each heated pulse of blood towards the spot, I feel a little more back in control after the moment of absolute panic. My voice still wobbles as I make out, “T-thank you, Sir. Nine.”

“You don’t have to go in order,” he snaps. “Choose a lower number to spread out the pain.”

“Nine,” I say stubbornly through my tears. I’ll get through this my way, dammit.

Almost immediately there’s only the barest noise of air being displaced, not nearly enough warning before my opposite ass cheek lights on fire. Again, it feels like all the breath I’ve only just barely gotten back is knocked out of me. More tears spurt from my eyes. My whole body shakes, and I go limp in my constraints, knees weak.

“Stand up,” Domhn says ruthlessly. “If you ask for it, you take it. You’ve done this to yourself. It’s much better if you build up with the lower numbers. You still can. Now thank me and be wise when you ask for your next number.”

“Thank-you-Sir-eight,” I say all at once before I chicken out, then suck in a deep breath and hold it, readying myself.

I’m still not prepared for the strike of what has to be one of the whips across my bare shoulders. The bite comes in such an unexpected place that again my knees go out from underneath me.

I swore to myself nothing could make me say “red”, but I’m not sure if I can take much more, even if it’s true that each blow isslightlyless painful than the last.

But right as I’m about to say the words that will free me from this ridiculous pain, the warmth of Domhn’s forehead is there again, pressing against the top of my spine as his voice comes back in a guttural whisper.

“You’re doing so beautifully, love. I’ve never seen anyone take their first caning with such grace. Try not to stand so tense. Give yourself over to it. Go loose and give in. You’re close to subspace. You’re so savage, you got me banjaxed jus’ like you always did.”

His brogue comes on thick suddenly. “This is how it always coulda been between us, Mads. You an’ me givin’ in to our darkness t’gether. We coulda done aright, Mads. We coulda been jus’ fine if you hadn’a run off ‘n leff me like ya did. So give in now. Give in an’ let it turn to ecstasy. Listen to me voice and give in. Take me marks like the good lass I know ya can be. Go loose, love. Go loose.”

His drugging voice has me doing exactly as he says. I stand on my own two feet but go loose at the same time. I let go of all tension in my body.

“Tha’s me good lass,” he whispers, voice still musical as he backs up and another strike falls, again a whip, I surmise as a different spot on my butt cheek lights up with fire. But to my shock, while yes, there’s pain, and more tears… it feels… it feels…

“Thank you, Sir,” I say in slow wonder as a buzzing warmth flushes through me. My head goes fuzzy as if it fills with helium, lifting off from my body.

“Number?” he asks, voice heavy and thick.

I blink, still in my warm balloon lift-off. It takes me a moment to focus on his ask. “Seven,” I finally drawl.

I blink again when a narrow, stingingpaddle smacks across my ass. My lift swings even higher. The rush of heat is incredible, and I wonder vaguely as my buzz lifts even higher, oh shit, is this what it’s like to do drugs? Sweat beads my brow at the intensity of everything I’m feeling.

“Thank you, Sir,” I say breathlessly. “Six.”

I don’t know what comes next but I’m excited and yearning in a way I shouldn’t be considering how I was feeling at the start of this. But it’s transformed, somehow. I can’t tell if it’s the power of the pain or Domhn’s words or Domhn himself. I can’t worry too much about whys right now. Especially not when the next thudding paddle against the round of my buttocks lifts me high again, the happy buzzy haze settling over me like a cloud.

“Thank you, Sir! Five.”

There’s a pause now before another, thuddy paddle thwacks the other butt cheek. There’s a sting where it intersects some of the previous marks and it still fuckinghurts.But overall, it’s just this jiggle that resounds up and down my backside and it feels…good. And not enough, almost.

We’re spiraling down in intensity even while I’m still up in the clouds and I’m starting to regret my choices. I wish I’d kept some of the higher numbers for the occasional lifting spike.

But there’s nothing to do now except keep on the path I’ve chosen.

“Thank you, Sir,” I swallow hard. I should try to get mywits back about me. I really should. But I’m such loose jello, I can’t quite manage. “Four.”

Then he spanks me with his bare hand, and it stings and feels wonderful at the same time.

My voice clogs a little as I whisper, “Thank you, Sir. Three.”

It’s almost over. I’m not crazy enough to say I’d want to start over from the beginning, but some lunatic part of me isn’t ready for it to be over, either. This unthinking, nonjudgmental fuzzy place is such a relief, and it’s about to be gone. I’m not ready yet.

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