Page 35 of Surrender

“That’s not spanking!” I complain, wriggling that leg to make it harder for him. I know I won’t do any more than delay the inevitable, but it’s still fun.

Fuck. It is fun.

Which means I should get as much as I can out of tonight, and tomorrow, and… and every night until I finally pull the trigger.

His grip is iron-tight on my other ankle as he forces it down, and after another little bit of a struggle, he gets the last manacle on.

“Good boy,” he says, sounding breathless but smug somehow.

“Oh, fuck off,” I say, testing the chains. “I just spent twenty minutes undermining you. That’s not good. I totally deserve a punishment, Daddy.”

“You do,” Cristiano says calmly, patting my ass. “And this is part of it. I’m going to tell you all the things I enjoy about you, like your outstanding independent streak.”

My smile turns brittle. “What the fuck does that mean?” I pull on the wrist manacles again and attempt to roll over, but he’s a heavy weight on top of me.

“That means I’m going to punish you like you’ve never been punished before.” Despite the ominous words, I can tell he’s smirking even without looking at me.

“So far, I’m not feeling anything.” I struggle some more, not liking the turn of events. He’s supposed to be angry and hurting me, not… not whatever the fuck he’s doing now.

“You’re feeling something,” he says, stroking one of my ass cheeks. “You may not know what it is, but you’re feeling something, and you’re feeling it intensely.” He sighs. “Do you know how beautiful you are, Fox? Your gorgeous red hair, the slight sprinkling of freckles across your nose… even the scars you’ve gotten over the years.”

For some reason, my cheeks flush. I look over my shoulder as best I can with a half-frozen smile, willing my face to cool down. “Yep. I’m hot. And I have a nice ass. Which is begging to be used.”

Of course I know I’m hot. That’s why it’s so easy for me to pick up guys at gay clubs. They squeeze my ass and it’s clear exactly what they want from me.

“It’s a great ass,” Cristiano agrees. He parts my ass cheeks, trailing a finger along my hole. “And you have the cutest little hole. It’s amazing to think my cock fits in there, isn’t it? That’s what you want right now. My cock, plunging into your needy hole?”

I nod quickly. “So you probably should get to work. At your age, you might start falling asleep soon, Daddy.”

Cristiano swats me on the ass. “I’m not done telling you what I like about you yet,” he says.

“You don’t sound like a mafia guy,” I say, trying to deflect.

He ignores me, going on, “You were so good at the museum, you know that? Perfectly well behaved. You stayed right next to me, keeping me company, talking about art… How do you know so much about art, little fox? I have university to blame. What’s your excuse?”

My entire body freezes, and I feel like I can’t breathe for a second. “Fuck off,” I say quickly. “It’s none of your business. And you have the saddest idea of good ever.”

He doesn’t know Corbin was there, right? He doesn’t suspect that I’d snuck away to… to pass a message along.

“You’re the worst at taking a compliment ever,” Cristiano counters dryly. “But that’s all right. I’ll get you used to accepting compliments…” He sounds wistful as he trails off, like we don’t both know this is only temporary.

He doesn’t know just how temporary it is, either.

“At dinner, you had beautiful manners,” Cristiano goes on. “You made me proud to have you at my side.”

Proud? What the fuck. What the fuck. My chest starts contracting way too fast, and it gets hard to breathe.

“Shut up,” I hiss, struggling for real now. “Stop running your mouth and just get to the good part. Daddy.”

“You’re still being punished, my little fox,” Cristiano says. “You remember how you insisted you were so bad and needed to be punished, right? You’re still young and spry and with a good memory.”

“Punishments are beatings and whippings and spankings, not… not some fucking words.” I try to fight, for all the good it does me. Punishments are just supposed to hurt, and feel good when I push against the healing wound, not do… whatever the fuck he’s doing to my head.

“But words are harder to handle than beatings and whippings and spankings, and they last a lot longer,” he murmurs, stroking my ass cheek. “Keep being a good little fox, and maybe I’ll reward you with a nice spanking. Would you like that?”

Be a good little fox.

Maybe if you’d been good, none of this would have happened.

---