Page 10 of Master Key Resort

Cordell led Tiffany to the playroom he’d reserved for their scene. While they still had the no-sex contract in place, that didn’t mean he couldn’t take things further than they’d ever gone before. He knew his submissive’s limit list backward and forward, inside and out, but he’d stared at it for about a half hour that morning, deciding which limits of hers he’d push during tonight’s scene.

Locating the correct room, he checked the schedule posted on a tablet attached to the wall at the left of the door. It indicated whoever had used the room earlier had left and everything had been diligently cleaned by the submissives who worked for the club. Cordell picked up the attached stylus and scribbled his signature and member number next to his name on the digital list. He liked the system and made a mental note to tell Mitch and Ty to consider using it at the resort. That way, a Dom didn’t have to worry about someone walking in and interrupting a scene or that some bodily fluids had been left behind by the previous occupants. It occurred to Cordell that he’d been mentally keeping a checklist, since they’d first walked through the front door, of things he liked about Club Domain that he’d wanted to see implemented at the resort. He was also tracking things he’d like to do differently, since he now had a say in how Master Key Resort would be run.

Opening the door to the playroom, he gestured for Tiffany to enter, then followed her in, shutting out the rest of the club. He turned a dial on the room’s sound system, and the noise level dropped dramatically. “Let’s get your punishment over with first, pet.” He took her hand and led her to a leather couch on the opposite side of the room.

Usually, Cordell would put the sub on a spanking bench to dole out a punishment, but he wanted to try to start building a closer rapport with her. He still hadn’t told her he planned to have her stay in his cottage, and in his bed, when they reached Florida. They would be driving his truck, with an attached U-Haul, across the country, and Cordell wanted to spend some of that time renegotiating their contract. A friend of his from the police department was going to drive Tiffany’s car down for them the following week and then fly home on Cordell’s dime. A few days earlier, before it had fully formed, Cordell had immediately nixed the idea of having her follow him in her vehicle for a couple of reasons. One, it was a really long trip for her to drive solo, and, two, he wanted her next to him, with no chance to escape the conversation he was going to have with her, unless she said her safeword.

Taking a seat on the couch, he said, “Over my knees.”

Her eyes widened a bit. “But, Sir, your hip. Wouldn’t it—”

“Thank you for your concern, pet, but my hip is fine. Now, unless you want me to add to your punishment, I suggest you do as you’re told.”

Biting her lip, she nodded and then complied. Cordell shifted his legs and winced. Maybe he should’ve put her on the spanking bench but seeing her across his lap quickly made the pain in his hip less intense. He wished he could say the same about the pain in his groin.

He adjusted her body until her feet were off the floor and her fingertips barely touched it. Lifting her skirt, he was surprised to see she’d gone without underwear. The last time she’d worn this outfit, she’d put on panties too, portraying the bratty schoolgirl in need of a spanking—a fun one. Today, in her rush, she’d either decided it was one less thing to deal with or had foregone them because she’d been running late and was already facing a punishment. His heart had nearly leaped into his throat and strangled him when he’d seen the bloodstain on her pure-white sock. Thankfully, the worst of the lacerations hadn’t needed stitches. As of this minute, razors were out for his pretty, little sub. He’d see to it that she got her legs waxed from now on. In fact, he wasn’t quite sure why she didn’t do that already, since she got her pussy waxed on a regular basis. Something he was pleased with. Pubic hair on a woman didn’t bother him, but bare, pink flesh turned him on even more. He also knew it increased a woman’s sensitivity and pleasure during play, so it was a win/win for both of them.

Rubbing his hand briskly over her naked ass, he brought the blood to the surface, reducing the risk of bruising her with his strikes. “Tell me, again, why you’re being punished, pet?”

“Because I didn’t set my alarm and cut my leg because I was rushing to be on time. I really am sorry, Sir.”

“I know you are, but that won’t get you out of a spanking. That’ll be twenty swats. Count them out and ask me for the next one.”

“Y-yes, Sir.”

He liked the hesitation he heard in her voice when she acknowledged him that last time. It hadn’t sounded fearful, like it had many times before, but, instead, it’d been more anticipatory. It was possible the little sub was a bit of a pain slut, but it was difficult to tell until she finally stopped associating any pain with punishment. He’d taken things slowly these last seven months, gauging her reaction to each of their interactions, whether they were playing or not. Once more, Cordell wished he’d taken Bruce Whitlow out to the desert and buried the sorry bastard out there with just his cock sticking out from the dirt for the buzzards to pick at.

“What’re your safewords?”

“Red for stop, yellow to slow down, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

Lifting his hand, he brought it down hard on her left ass cheek with a resounding slap, leaving a red print on her pale skin.

“Eep! One—one, Sir. M-may I please have another?”

Of course, he obliged. This time his hand landed on her right buttock.

Tiffany let out a soft hiss. “T-two, Sir. May I please have another?”

The next one was aimed at her left sit spot, where her thigh and cheek met. He continued to pepper her with strikes, moving randomly to a different spot on her upper legs and ass, while she counted and requested more. At number six, her voice began quivering, and she squirmed on his lap. He readjusted her. “Stay still, pet.”

“Ye-yes, S-Sir.”

By the ninth spank, she was sobbing. By the fourteenth, she could barely get the words out of her mouth as her body shook uncontrollably.

“What color are you, pet?”

“Ye-yell-ow, S-Sir,” she managed to squeak out.

Cordell stopped and gave her a few moments to collect herself. He rubbed her back and lower legs, knowing if he touched her ass and thighs it would cause her more pain than she was already experiencing. Punishments like this were not his favorite part of BDSM, but they were necessary for many subs. It was how they processed what they’d done wrong and learned to control any behavior that jeopardized their health or wellbeing. Once the ordeal was over, he would wipe the slate clean, move them forward, and not dwell on what had caused the need for the punishment in the first place. “Easy, girl. You’re almost done. Six more to go. Let me know when you’re green.”

She hesitated a few seconds before whispering, “I-I’m green, S-Sir.”

“I’ll make them fast. You don’t need to count.”

“Th-thank you, Sir.”

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