Page 70 of Becoming His Perfect Daddy
Zander straightened his stance, pulling away from Joey. “Oh, you will be thanking me tonight. You earned every single one of these swats, and I intend for you to show me how grateful you are for them when I’m done.”
“Yes, Master.”
Zander nodded toward the bench. “Now get on. Ass up. Don’t make me wait a second longer.”
Joey scrambled to comply, nearly leaping into position. His creamy white ass shone in the spotlight, enticing as fuck.
Master chuckled as he pressed his hand at the base of the boy’s spine, ensuring he was in position. “Eager, boy?”
“Oh, please, Master. Please. I just want this to be over.”
He was lying. His Master knew he was lying. We all knew he was lying. But somehow, his pleading made this even hotter.
“It will be soon enough, boy, but remember, I make the rules, and I punish you how I see fit. Do you understand?”
Joey’s voice was muffled by the headrest. “Yes, Master.”
“Color?”
“Green, Master. Please.”
“Are you begging me to start?”
“Oh yes, Master.”
I heard a smattering of soft chuckles around me. Joey was a pain slut, just like me.
To build the anticipation, Zander circled the bench, casually assessing his sub. He lightly trailed his fingers across Joey’s light skin until the smaller man shivered. Zander smiled sweetly.
By the time he was back in position behind his lover, I could feel the crowd buzzing. Zander sure knew how to work the crowd. He started massaging his boy’s ass, warming it up. I squirmed in my seat.
Then he raised his hand.
I jolted at the first smack, but I couldn’t look away. This.Thiswas what I wanted from a Daddy. Someone to scold me, take care of my needs, punish me for breaking the rules, hold me when I cried, humiliate me in all the best ways, and give me both the pain and the love that I craved.
And the man beneath me was offering all of that and more.
Joey was whimpering loudly by the tenth swat, and I assumed he was somehow miked as well. Hearing his responses amped up the sexy factor tenfold.
At thirty, Zander paused, his hand stroking the reddened flesh of his boy’s ass. “Color, boy?”
“Still green, Master. Please.”
But instead of resuming his swats with his hand, Master leaned down to pick something up from behind the bench. I strained to see it, but I was careful not to move too much against Sam. It would be embarrassing if I came in Sam’s lap in the middle of the bar.
Zander pulled out a wide wooden paddle, one with rounded edges and a contoured handle. The paddle appeared to be about an inch thick at its widest part.
The thudding sound—and the cries it pulled out of Joey—was glorious. I was vibrating in my seat by the fiftieth swing, and bythe time Zander paused again at sixty, Joey’s ass and thighs were a bright red, and I was ready to burst.
I stole a glance at Sam as Joey caught his breath on the stage. Sam was staring at me, his pupils blown wide. Arousal was rolling off him in waves, threatening to pull me under. His body vibrated beneath me.
He swallowed but held my gaze, and even after the erotic spanking on stage had resumed—probably with a cane, given the sharp snaps I heard—I couldn’t look away. Time lengthened, but we just stared.
Until he broke the silence with a whisper. “Cameron . . .”
The pure need in his voice undid me. I jumped up, reaching for his hand and pulling him to his feet. I stalked past my friends, catching Tristan’s gaze for a brief moment to acknowledge my exit, and he nodded his understanding with a knowing smirk. Bastard.
I weaved Sam through the crowd of voyeurs paying absolutely no attention to us, loving the feel of his hand in mine, until we reached a side exit. We stepped out into the chilly but clear night, heading up the alley toward the entrance of the hotel next door. But before we went inside, I jolted to a stop.
