Page 17 of What About Love

“Not at all,” Loraine demurred. “Deacon likes to watch, particularly newbies. Don’t you, baby?”

“Yes, mistress. Their tears when they feel the power of the paddle for the first time are a sweet treat.”

“You sadist,” she cooed in approval.

“It takes one to know one, my love.”

As Dan led her away, Angie blinked in surprise. A sadistic submissive? That made no sense to her at all. What the hell had she gotten herself into?

“They’re switches,” her dom supplied, noticing her confusion. “Tonight is Lorraine’s turn to top. Tomorrow, it might be Deacon’s, or not.”

“What?”

“They take turns. Although I think Deacon excels more as a top. You should see him wield a bullwhip. He’s almost as good as Dex.”

“I’ll never understand all of this.”

“I’m not sure any of us do. Not completely. But it’s how we’re wired, so we go with it. After a while, you won’t question it, just accept and enjoy the thrill of the unusual. That’s what keeps it so exciting.”

***

SHE TREMBLED, NOT FROMpleasure as so many other subs she’d seen tonight had. As Dan crouched in front of her and linked her cuffs to the hooks on the bench, her tremor came from dread. Her trainer was intuitive. When finished, with her firmly restrained and vulnerable, he didn’t stand right away.

“Your eyes are as big as saucers,” he observed quietly, his gaze roaming her face a moment before settling on her mouth. “If you don’t stop biting that lip, you’ll have teeth marks and bruises for days.”

“I don’t know if I can do this.” With her voice barely a whisper, he moved his head closer in order to hear.

“I’ll go gently. But if we’re going to make it believable in LA, we have to practice in front of an audience. You’ll feel the heat and sting of this punishment, but I promise not to leave bruises or welts.” He cupped her chin and lifted her head, compelling her eyes to meet his, which were a unique and beautiful shade of silvery gray. “Relax, Ang. I’ve done this once or twice before.”

Easier said than done. Still, she nodded, drawing in a deep breath and letting out slowly.

“That’s it,” he crooned. “Tensing up makes things harder for both of us. If it gets to be too much, remember your safewords. Yellow will slow things down and let me know you need a break. Red will make it stop. Okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

He leaned in and lightly pressed his lips to her forehead. “You’re being very brave, Angie. I’m sorry to have to put you through this. It’s clear you’re not enjoying yourself, but it will be all worth it when we shut down the fucker who has been snatching submissives from the LA club.”

“I know. I’ll focus on that, Dan. Thank you for being so patient.”

“I’m honored to be entrusted with you, and will take the utmost care. Count on that.” His smile of reassurance flashed briefly, reminding her how good-looking he was. She tentatively returned it.

Standing, he squeezed her shoulder then said louder for the benefit of their audience, “Let’s get this session started then we’ll move on to the punishment you’ve earned.”

As Dan moved toward the foot of the bench, a progression of images scrolled through her head. Starting in seventh-grade math class when Mr. Fitzmeyer made Miles Jenkins, the class clown, bend over his desk for a paddling while his classmates looked on. Some with sympathy but most with unadulterated glee.

Next, her brain flashed back to a party she attended in college. Someone hauled down the fraternity’s paddle from its place of honor on the wall and a game of spin the bottle ensued. But instead of kissing, the losers—or winners, depending how one looked at it—endured a round of spanks from a polished oak plank with half a dozen holes drilled in it. She and her friends, who were only gawkers, left once they saw the ominous name burned into the handle—pledge punisher.

From there, the movie reel of memories jumped to a jam-packed theater, the rapt audience watching spanking scenes fromFifty Shades of Grey, both the sexy and punishment ones,with titillated enthusiasm.

And last, to tonight, and the sub who preceded her on the spanking bench. Her master’s leather lash had fallen repeatedly for no less than thirty minutes with strokes numbering more than Angie could count. When she pleaded for more on her already bright-red behind, the onlookers, avidly taking in the spectacle on the other side of the velvet ropes, had her mind conjuring up an image of herself as she was now, on her knees, ass in the air, strapped to the bench, but rather than the club, she had transported to the Colosseum in ancient Rome as the lions closed in on all sides while the bloodthirsty hordes cheered them on.

She shook her head to clear the gruesome image. Surely, she was making a simple spanking into more than it was. And obviously, over the years, she’d forgotten what an impression—no pun intended—all the spankings she had witnessed had made. Clearly, it was more commonplace than she’d ever realized. And now, when it was her time to be on the receiving end, a tiny tremor of excitement shot through her.

“I’m going to warm you up with my hand first,” Dan advised, as he ran his hand over her upturned bottom. “Following that, I’ll give you a taste of three implements, all beginner’s level. To finish up, you’ll get twenty with the paddle for all that fidgeting and squirming earlier, and for not letting me know when you were feeling discomfort.”

His fingers brushed her skin as they curled under the hem of her skirt and dragged it upward.

“I’m, uh...feeling discomfort right about now, sir,” she admitted in a nervous squeak.

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