Page 30 of Feast

Time to find out.

“Okay, baby girl, you’re getting ten swats,” he said, keeping his voice low and stern. “I want you to count them out, all right?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she breathed, her hands flexing above her ass.

“And if you try to move away or cover yourself,” he warned, anticipating her, “I’ll start over.”

“Okay.”

Tension colored her voice, smothering some of the eagerness, so he laid an assessing hand on her back and leaned forward so he could see her face. “If you need me to stop, just say so.”

She nodded, her cheek rubbing against the sheet, her eyes bright. “I will.”

“All right, then.” He straightened, stroking his hand down her back, over her bound hands—curled into fists now—and over the satin smooth skin of her ass. “Don’t forget to count.”

He waited until he heard her breathless, “Yes, Daddy,” then let the first one fly.

Though she’d been more than receptive to the spanks he’d given her last night, he kept his touch fairly light. But while the sound of hand on ass rang out and her ass jiggled delightfully on impact, one look at her face had him reevaluating.

“One wimpy one,” she recited in a dead voice, and craned her neck to look at him. “If that’s all you’ve got, I might as well take a nap.”

Delighted by the sass, he had to work to keep the scowl on his face. “I see we’re playing Bad Girl today.”

“More like Bored Girl,” she snarked back and actually yawned.

“You sure you want to go there?” he asked, forcing as much menace into his voice as possible.

“Go where, Snoozeville?” she asked with a smirk.

“Okay, Sugar,” he said. “Just remember, you asked for it.”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond, just let his hand fly. This time the crack echoed, her ass bounced like a beach ball, and she let out a shocked—and very satisfying—yelp.

“I didn’t hear you count,” he said after a beat, admiring the handprint on her right cheek.

“One,” she choked out with considerably less insolence than she had the first time, and he shifted his gaze to her face.

Pain glazed her eyes, not unexpected with how hard he’d swung. But there was pleasure too, in her flushed cheeks and panting breaths, and when he ran his fingers up the inside of her thigh, he found her dripping wet.

“Good girl,” he praised, and almost smiled when her blush deepened.

He spanked her again, aiming for her other cheek this time so she’d have matching handprints, but he kept his gaze on her face.

He saw the pain flash on impact, the bright flare of it that twisted her features and pinched her face. Then pleasure flooded in, dilating her pupils and turning her cheeks even redder. The cry she’d let out faded into a trailing moan full of longing and lust and an unconscious plea for more.

“Two,” she said on a ragged sigh.

He kept his eyes on her face—with occasional glances at her ass to line up his next swat, or just enjoy the view—assessing and adjusting based on what he saw there. She didn’t seem to like the pain itself, tensing each time his hand landed, but there was no mistaking the wiggle in her ass, the way that her hands clenched and unclenched while she looked at him with lust-filled eyes.

Or the puddle forming under her.

By the time she choked out, “Ten,” he was congratulating himself on having remembered to put the towels down, though he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t soak through them by the time they were done. Her ass was a bright and glowing pink, wiggling and jiggling as she danced in place as far as the ropes would let her. She wasn’t trying to get away but was moving on instinct, her body seeking to alleviate the heat and sting in her butt.

He laid a hand on her ass, wanting to feel the warmth radiating from her skin, and she jumped under his touch. “Be still,” he said and delivered a short, measured slap to punctuate the order.

She went almost comically still, clearly not wanting to incite any further swats. Her breathing was loud, hands flexing at the base of her spine—fingers pink and moving well, no worries there—and when she swallowed, he could hear the gulp.

“You took that well, sugar,” he said, letting his pleasure at her obedience warm his tone. “Though you do have a tendency to wiggle.”

---