Page 37 of Hurts So Good

“Obviously. But did he punish you?” Lyles’ voice bore down on the word punish.

“No, of course not.”

His lips furled into a slight smile. “Would you like to be?”

“What?”

“Punished.”

Helen licked her lips. “Is that why you invited me here?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said.

She glanced at the tawse in his hand. Her breath caught in her throat.

“With that?”

“If you like.” He looked at the other objects in his collection. “I have my preferences, but…” He held the tawse by its handle and flicked it through the air. “I do like my Lochgelly.”

“And those who have”—she gestured at the tawse, her pulse beating in her throat—“been under it?”

The edges of his lips curled up. “There have been no complaints.”

“Then, yes. With that.”

He pointed to a pole near the wall. “Go over there.”

Helen went over to the pole. Lyles followed her.

“Take off your skirt.”

Helen did so, stepping carefully out of it in order not to snare the hem on her high-heeled shoes. There was no place nearby for her to put it.

“Drop it,” Lyles ordered.

She did so, conscious of her bare buttocks and the thong of her bodysuit riding up the crack of her ass.

“Turn around and take hold of the pole.”

She did as he instructed.

“Are you ready?”

Helen swallowed and nodded.

His large, cool hand gently cupped one cheek of her bare ass. She heard his slow, even breath, smelled his scent, his cologne woodsy and decidedly male. She stared at the wall opposite her and slowly closed her eyes.

As if that were the signal—although she knew Lyles could not see her face—she heard the whisk of the tawse as he moved it through the air.

The leather straps lashed across her skin, and she shuddered, her hands gripping the pole, her cunt puckering, hot tears stinging the edges of her eyes.

A moment passed. Then Lyles flogged her ass again. And again. And again. After the fifth lash, he demanded she beg for the next one.

She did.

And for each and every one thereafter.

As the blows continued to fall across her quivering buttocks, Helen pushed her breasts against the pole and rubbed her stiff nipples along it. She wriggled her ass each time Lyles struck her, which caused the thong to ride up between the lips of her sex, rubbing steadily against her clitoris. The thin fabric grew slick with her wetness.

---