Animal Attraction (31 page)

“Yeah.” Dan’s tone was carefully empty of
emotion.

I went to the mirror to check my appearance.
For the first time, seeing a face not the one I associated with
Brandilynn Payson was no surprise. I took in my second persona’s
black hair, my pale skin, my cool elegant bone structure. I made
sure my eyes were nearly black instead of vampire red. I smiled at
myself. No fangs. Good. I applied a dash of berry-shaded lip gloss
and turned to Dan. “Ready.”

We walked side by side to Para Central.
Tristan waited for me on the stage, his dark eyes watching as I
approached. I felt the familiar pang of missing him, but it was a
distant echo of the agony it had once been. Yes, I was going to be
okay.

I mounted the stage and took my place at his
side. He looked at me. His expression mingled love and pain. For
me? For Patricia? Or for both?

It didn’t matter. As much as I treasured what
we’d once had, our paths now went in different directions. We had
to play the role of brother and sister. It was time to assert
that.

I teased Tristan as I once had my own
sibling. As I might get the opportunity to tease Ashley again. “Out
of the little pond, off to swim with the sharks.”

His eyes narrowed. “Do I look like a
guppy?”

“No. I think you’ll be right in your element
with the rest of that bunch in Atlanta.” I winked.

He chuckled. “Thank you.” On the heels of
that, the pain returned. “Damn it, Brandilynn, if things had only
turned out different...”

“They did not. It’s time to let the past go
and move on.”

I stepped forward and called for attention
before Tristan could pursue a useless conversation. “Attention
everyone!”

The room went quiet in an instant. Eyes of
every description; human, animal, and otherwise; turned to the two
of us on the stage. I smiled, proud of the man next to me, proud of
his accomplishments. Proud as I knew Patricia would be. Tristan had
worked hard to get where he was. He would continue to work hard to
make lives for paras better, to make sure the humans gave them
their due, their justice. With Tristan’s star on the rise, we had
hope that the shifters hunted by Tattingail might be among the last
to die and have their killers go free.

Feeling the importance of the moment I
announced, “The moment has come. Our loss is this great state’s
good fortune. I am proud to congratulate Fulton Falls
representative and Georgia’s first para citizen legislator –
Tristan Keith!”

Cheers and howls erupted. There were members
of the press in attendance, most of them humans. I noted the
were-animal sounds made them nervous.

I thought,
tough cookies, norms. A lot of
us didn’t ask to be what we are, but we are here now. Deal with
it.

Before acknowledging the newest round of
congratulations, Tristan whispered in my ear. “Thank you, my love.
I will always be grateful to you.”

Then he was the charming vampire politician,
greeting his constituents and wellwishers. I stepped back, letting
him have the spotlight all to himself. It was Tristan’s party, and
I was no longer a piece of it. A vestige of remorse came and
went.

He held out his hands for quiet. After a few
more tumultuous moments, he got it. “My friends. My wonderful,
faithful friends. Thank you.”

The speech that followed was classic Tristan
Keith. He challenged and uplifted us at the same time. He spoke of
our hopes while remaining down to earth about what we could expect.
He exhorted us to stand strong for para rights while maintaining
our pride as citizens of Fulton Falls and Georgia’s community.

Somewhere along the line, he became to me
what he was to so many others. Not lover, not brother, but
champion. I let him go in my heart at last. In doing so, I granted
myself the greatest freedom of all.

Chapter 14

Dan stood before me, as rugged and desirable
as ever in his white button-down and khakis. His shirtsleeves were
rolled up nearly to the elbows, displaying forearms corded with
muscle. I shivered in delicious anticipation as I looked at the
wooden paddle he gripped.

I knelt before him, my thighs spread wide. I
wore a schoolgirl’s uniform, complete with a tie, short plaid skirt
that rose up to the soaked crotch of my white cotton panties, white
knee socks, and saddle shoes. My hair was plaited in two braids
that fell forward over my breasts.

Playing naughty schoolgirl and stern
principal was a bit overdone as far as kink was concerned, but we
still flirted with that Daddy/little dynamic that had set us off so
grandly a few days before. We both were of the opinion that this
was a novelty phase but as long as we were having fun, why not?

Besides, that paddle looked pretty darned
exciting in Dan’s strong hand. I wasn’t about to lie about that ...
unless it would get me an extra long spanking.

“Passing notes in class. Sassing the teacher.
Smoking in the girls’ bathroom. Miss Payson, you are in a lot of
trouble,” Dan told me.

I gave him sullen troublemaker eyes. I was a
bad girl, all right. The worst in the whole school and proud of
it.

He shook his head. “It’s time to see if I can
wallop the rebelliousness out of you. Stand up and bend over my
desk.”

This was where I really had to use my
imagination. Of all the ghostly bits of Old Fulton Falls that
remained, a school was not among them. Fulton Falls Academy High
School was one of the top ten of America’s oldest schools having
been built in 1788, but it was not affected by the Big Fire back in
the 1930s. Not only did it still stand, but it continued as a high
school serving Ford County.

Had we gone to it or any of the other schools
in the area, our play would have taken place in the presence of a
principal going about his or her day. We’d gotten all hot and
bothered about playing our scene, not realizing until we hit Fulton
Falls Academy that it was a school day. Neither of us felt able to
wait for the weekend.

Sure, we probably wouldn’t have been seen
playing kinky games today, but Dan and I would have been terribly
aware of others’ presences. Talk about taking the sexy out of a
good paddling. Yuck.

So Dan and I were in one of the King George’s
hotel rooms all done up in white and gold with the big bed,
armoire, and nightstands. Principal Dan’s ‘desk’ was a small
polished wooden table where long-ago guests might have taken tea or
written letters back home. At least it had sturdy legs.

I got to my feet and turned towards the
mahogany surface of the table. As I took the position, I saw myself
reflected in the shining surface. Brandilynn Payson, the mirror
image of her sister Ashley but for the eye color stared back at me.
I grinned at the more familiar of my two faces. My eyes were wide
in anticipation, my wet lips parted as I breathed hard with
excitement. With my copper penny hair tied in little girl braids, I
looked innocently wanton in a strange sort of way.

Dan flipped my short pleated skirt up to
reveal my cotton-clad rump. “Spread your legs. Wider. Wider.” He
gave one thigh a smart whack with the thick paddle when I proved
reluctant to obey.

I yelped and set my legs far apart, wincing
at the throb of pain. I shivered to think of the punishment I was
about to receive. It was going to hurt so good.

I closed my hands into fists as Dan pulled my
panties down. I knew he saw it all: my butt with cheeks parted and
my pussy already wet and swelling with excitement. I felt the
familiar exciting helplessness curl tight in my sex. There is
nothing better than being utterly vulnerable to the man I love and
trust with all of my being.

His hand settled in the small of my back. No
principal ever warms a wayward student’s rear for a paddling so it
hurts less. I would get all the agony I could ask for. Maybe
more.

“How many, Sir?” I asked, delicious fear
joining the jumble in my belly.

“As many as I think will put you right,” came
the noncommittal answer. “Stay still and take your punishment.”

I swear I heard that block of wood whistle in
the air as it swung at my unprotected fanny. The contact between it
and the fleshiest part of my butt sounded like a gunshot. Pain
exploded and I shrieked. If I jumped an inch, I jumped a mile. Good
glory, that hurt!

The pain still radiated from his strike when
the next one fell. It caught me slightly above where the first had
landed. I howled and tears welled in my eyes.

Another heavy swat, the lowest part of my
butt. Another, this one catching upper thighs. I jerked and jumped
and kicked helplessly as Dan held me down and delivered my
paddling. I yelled wordless cries of pain and pummeled the table
with my fists. My butt crackled with fiery torment.

I often used pain play to take me out of my
head where worry enjoyed roosting far too much. The immediacy of
discipline meant no dwelling on the world’s ugliness or my own
shortcomings. Though I had little to be concerned with these days,
it still felt good to be totally in the here and now. I had nothing
to worry over except accepting Dan’s dominance and doing all I
could to please him.

What more could a sub want out of life ... or
afterlife?

Even as I danced under his powerful strokes
with the paddle and sobbed with hurt of blistering buttocks and
thighs, I sank into peace. A part of me floated free, happy to be
with the man I loved, serving his needs and him alone. The soft
sensation of euphoria transmuted the punishment, turning pain into
an intensity that throbbed in my pussy. The tone of my cries
changed with the shift, becoming throaty moans of sharp
pleasure.

Dan heard me and said, “That’s it, little
girl. Learn your lesson. Time to be good now.”

I arched my back, offering myself for more
discipline. Bliss throbbed in time with the rise and fall of the
paddle. Each strike was a benediction, a redemption.

I heard the music. Deathsong, Arthur had
called it. I thought it was more like the song of true life. Of
love. There was nothing morbid in that sweet, swelling tone that
made me feel so close to home ... wherever that might be.

I felt myself reaching towards it. At that
moment the paddling stopped. The music went away, leaving me
gasping on the table.

“Are you going to be a good girl now?” Dan
asked me.

I blinked, coming back to myself. Wow, I’d
really taken off into subspace that time. I still felt floaty and
serene, albeit a little disappointed to have lost that precious
music.

In a slow, drugged voice I said, “I’ll be
good, Sir.”

“We’ll see. Now, let me think about how much
detention you deserve.”

I slid to the floor, my legs feeling like
jelly. I landed on my rear and a quick throb of pain brought me
back to our scene and the part I was supposed to be playing.
Naughty school girl wanting to avoid more trouble with her sexy
principal. Oh yeah.

I reached for Dan’s ankle, gazing up with
imploring eyes as I groveled at his feet. “Please Sir, don’t make
me do detention. I’ll do anything you want. Anything.”

So I was no actress and I delivered cheesy
lines. Hey, as long as my master was happy, that’s all that
counted. Judging from the bulge at the front of his pants, Dan
wasn’t displeased in the least.

“Anything, Miss Payson?” He eyed me
carefully.

“Anything,” I whispered.

He reached down to cup my chin. Pulling up,
Dan prodded me to my knees. He tossed the paddle to one side and
worked on the knot to my tie. “Wrists,” he ordered.

I gave them to him without pause. My breath
caught as he tied them together with the tie, one crossed over the
other. Then he guided me to place them behind my neck.

With me kneeling at his feet, my hands behind
my neck, I licked my lips. This was getting really good.

Dan undid the shirt button at my throat. I
offered a little protest. “Sir!”

He cocked a brow at me. “Will it be detention
then? A note to your parents?”

I swallowed hard. “No sir.”

He continued to unbutton my blouse, parting
the fabric a little more as he went. Soon it hung wide open,
displaying the young girl cotton bra with the ubiquitous rosebud
sewn between the cups.

Dan traced a finger over the top of one cup,
letting it slip beneath the fabric so that his nail scraped along
my skin. I shivered, and his eyes darkened at my response. I
trembled, feeling his power over me. I was a schoolgirl in the
hands of a man in authority who I had a crush on.

Dan spoke not a word as he played around the
outlines of my bra cups. My nipples sharpened to exquisite points,
making themselves obvious against the soft cotton. Though my skirt
hid the evidence, my thighs were painted with the wet of
excitement.

Dan covered my breasts with his hands and
squeezed. I couldn’t contain the moan of pleasure that erupted from
my throat. My chest thrust forward independent of my control.

He grunted at my response. His hands went
around me, expertly unhooking the bra. He slid the straps so the
cups went up and over my head, draping the bra over my bound
wrists.

Dan’s fingers went back to my boobs. He
grasped the swollen, reddened tips and pinched. As the pressure
grew, I moaned again and writhed. Glass shards of wondrous pain
stabbed into me. My cries grew louder as he twisted.

“Do you know what I think, Miss Payson?” Dan
asked in a rumbling voice.

I gasped, “Sir?”

“I think you behave badly so you can come to
my office. So you can feel my paddle on your bare butt.” He
smirked. “Now you have to pay a much greater price. You didn’t
count on this, did you?”

I squirm in his pincer grip, my body trying
to escape even as my being begged for more. Raw, aching need
suffused my pussy. “Sir,” I whimpered. “I’m sorry, Sir.”