Dominion Trust Series - Vol.1 (4 page)

God, she was so beautiful, so far out of Erica’s league! She’d thought for a moment about just slinking away, wanting to avoid the humiliation of those strangers’ eyes comparing her gawky frame to the classical beauty of the willowy, elegant Kathryn.

They’d stood and moved away, just out of earshot of her (she’d tried to listen though, oh yes, she’d tried). Erica had watched them talk, watched them stare at her, the cold possessive calculation in their eyes sending chills down her spine, yet moistening her pussy.

“She wanted me to bundle you up and take you home that very night. No taking ‘no’ for an answer, either. Ours — whether you liked it or not. She told me she wanted me to hold you down while she caned your ass until it turned purple.”

Erica’s mouth went dry at the thought. Her pussy, however, had an entirely different reaction to the frightening imagery.

Jesus Christ, Erica. You slut.

Cold leather covered her ass, tapping gently, and she froze. “Do I have your attention?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Oh God, here it comes!

But there was no burst of pain, no loud crack of leather on flesh. Nothing.

The tension in her calves and hamstrings was already building, and waiting for her agony to begin only made it worse.

“I’m waiting.” The leather tapped her bottom.

“Sir, I don’t …”

“You’re clenching. Relax them.”

“Sorry, Sir.” Consciously willing your tense buttocks to relax in the face of an imminent paddling was not a natural act, and despite the fact that this wasn’t the first time he’d admonished her for clenching, she still had a difficult time complying with his order. Her cheeks just wanted to huddle together fearfully, as if they could better weather the coming storm. She couldn’t blame them.

“Now, girl.” The leather snapped down, heat blooming across her skin.

Come on, loosen. Relax! Get it over with, Erica.

“There, much better.” He pulled the leather away, and his hand lightly smacked each cheek a few times. “I like to see them shudder and wobble as I punish you. That doesn’t work when you’re clenching, and keeping those cheeks tight just makes the strokes hurt worse. Unless, that’s what you really want. I can oblige your needs by hitting harder if that’s the case.”

“NO! No, please, Sir!”

Her face heated at his low chuckle. “Okay, girl. Maybe another time we can explore just how much you need that pain, hmm?”

She didn’t answer, afraid one day he’d go through with it; afraid one day that he
wouldn’t
go through with it.

He laid the paddle across her ass once more, the leather still, menacing. “Why are you being punished?”

“Because I disobeyed you, Sir.”

“You did, though admittedly it wasn’t too serious an offense. You’re mostly a good girl.”

“Thank you, Sir.” She wanted to turn around and kiss him. Praise helped her, gave her strength for the ordeal to come. The pain was bad enough; his disapproval with her was worse.

“You just… lost your head for a moment,” he said. “Still, punishment is called for here. How many do you think you deserve?”

None! A hundred! Shit.

“As many as you think I deserve, Sir.” Her voice broke ever so slightly on the last word.

She tried to marshal her courage, to be strong. It was this way every time, a warring within her between the urge to flee — fight or flight — and the urge to tell him to hurt her, that there wasn’t
enough
pain for her.

“Good answer,” he said. “I think ten will do — a minor offense after all.”

The first stroke landed with a loud pop in the quiet room. The tip of the paddle wrapped around her bottom and bit into her flesh. She knew if he gave her a few more like that, she’d wake up tomorrow morning with nice, deep bruising on that far hip.

The next blow was harder, and seemed to cover the whole of her cringing bottom, sending the cheeks bounding.

Relax, relax.

His hand stroked gently over the marks. “Good start here.”

The next blow was much harder, and she yelled at the smart, the sting digging deep into her buttocks. “Felt that one?”

“Yes, Sir.” She drew still once more, urging, begging her body to cooperate.

The leather whipped down four more times in quick succession, and though they were just as hard as the previous strikes, she just managed to keep still for them, her cries muffled by the sheets she clutched to her face in desperate, white-knuckled hands. His growled voice admonished her to loosen her cheeks again before the last blow.

He stroked the body-warmed leather over the curves of her bottom, his hand caressing her lower back. She could feel the fine sheen of sweat on her skin already.

“These last three will be the worst, Erica. I’m going to make these hurt, because you need them. Are you ready?”

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!

Her ass burned, the skin feeling abraded the way it always did after a solid leathering. It wasn’t nearly as bad as a caning, but she knew she’d be a sore girl in the morning, even without the last three strokes still to come.

“Yes … Sir.”

He bent over her, his lips whispering at her temple. “Be strong, beautiful.”

Quick, crisp smacks rained down upon her ass. Each blow was harder than the last, the pain searing, and she cried out at each one. He knew how to make a paddling hurt when he wanted to — and this time it seemed he
definitely
wanted to.

Erica sucked in a great lungful of air, exhaling it in a soft whine. The throbbing made her move her hips, trying to shake off the pain.

“Punishment over,” he whispered, making her kiss the paddle once more. He grasped her arm, and helped her to her feet. Her head swam a little and her bottom was definitely warm. Overall, though, ten strokes was a very light paddling, and she was grateful that’s all she’d suffered for her transgression. She knew it could have been a
lot
worse.

Blaine sat on the edge of the bed, tugging on her arm.

“W—what are you… ?”

The fire in the hazel depths of his gaze was unmistakable. “The paddling was for your punishment. This is for me. Over my lap.”

Oh no.

She swiftly found herself in that familiar, humiliating position, blood pounding at her temples, the unruly dark curls of her hair all around her. She felt heat against the side of her hip and looked back. His cock stood up from the open fly of his slacks, its heavy length laid along her flesh. The urge to turn and take him between her lips was so strong; she almost risked further disobedience to do it.

Blaine looked down at her, his jaw clenched. “Get your head down.”

She obeyed, shivering, hiding her face back under her curls once more.

The loose blouse partially covered her bottom, so he rucked the fabric higher, fully exposing her, the air cool on her sweaty lower back. His hands eased over her ass, the calloused fingers rough against her soft skin. Her thighs shook, fatigued from holding them steady during the paddling. His hands squeezed the lush flesh.

“Tired, little girl? We’re not done yet — not by a long shot.”

Blaine massaged each cheek in turn, both hands stroking, kneading, working the tension from her muscles. He traced each stinging, abraded mark with gentle fingertips, even bending to blow on them once, making her shiver. “Scorched here I see. Might be pretty sore after your spanking.”

“Um, maybe you could skip the spanking?”

His hands stopped moving, his body tense, still. She swallowed. Maybe talking back hadn’t been the most brilliant of moves.

Fingers dove into the tangle of her locks, twisting as he pulled her head up sharply. “Do you get to dictate what happens in this relationship?”

Wait — relationship?

He’d never called it that before. ‘Play’ or ‘arrangement’ were the terms she’d most often heard him use.

“N—no, Sir.”

“And why is that?” The cadence of his speech slowed, his voice soft. But she wasn’t fooled — when he got this way, she knew she was in trouble.

There were few right answers to these questions, and many wrong ones. “Because my only duty is to obey, do as I’m told?”

“That’s correct. So, does that mean you get to suggest I let you off of your spanking?”

Were it possible to unspeak words, she knew she’d be doing it now.

“Ahh!” Her scalp burned as his hand tightened in her locks. “No, Sir! I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry.”

“Good, then we understand each other, don’t we?”

She nodded as best she could against his steely grip.

Blaine let go of her hair, his hand stroking from her nape down the length of her spine, fingers tangling in the blouse bunched at the small of her back.

He squeezed her buttocks harshly, making her wince. ”Ready for your spanking?”

I thought this was for you?

She was eternally grateful her snark did not make it past her lips.

“Yes, Sir. Please, not too hard.”

Hands stroked circles over each cheek, adding to the heat of her paddling. “That’s up to you. Be a good girl, and this shouldn’t take long.”

The spanking began immediately, heavy smacks swiftly building heat to scorching levels. His palm slapped down onto the middle of one of her cheeks, the sound like a pistol shot. Soon, she was wagging her hips side-to-side, unable to help herself, even though she knew it would only encourage him to be even harsher with her.

“Keep still. I’m not hitting you that hard. A good girl takes her spankings quietly.”

What the hell was he talking about? Her ass was
on fire
, the pain much more intense than that from the paddling. She breathed in through her nose, and out through her mouth, trying anything she could to cope with the burning heat. All the while her body betrayed her, the deep uncoiling in her belly as she thought of what he must be seeing, her naked ass laid out for him to punish. She wished he’d give her a breather, to let the heat in her ass cool off, but his steady, hard blows continued.

“Please, Sir! Too hard!”

Blaine laughed, landing a smack along the top of her thigh, making her yelp. “We’re just getting started, girl. You aren’t fooling anybody.”

His hand spanked over every inch of her ass, raising a throbbing burn everywhere. He paused after a harsh blow to the bottom of one cheek, sending her flesh bounding. She was grateful her hair shrouded her blushing face, for she hated the mortifying feel of her cheeks bouncing and wobbling under his smacks.

“I love seeing your little bottom move, girl. We’ve got some good color now too. Need some more here though.” His fingers pulled up on one cheek, and she felt the stretch at the junction of thigh and buttock before he cracked a palm down onto that sensitive spot. An identical blow smacked down on the other cheek, shaking her whole body, the sting dragging a small sob from her.

Blaine moved his hips against her. “God, you’re fucking
killing
me.”

I’m killing you?

She wanted nothing more than to take care of his problem for him, but she knew there was no way it was happening until he’d roasted her cheeks to his exacting specifications; likely until they were hot to the touch, and tears streamed down her face. She had no doubt he’d then pronounce them “just right.”

“Spread your thighs, Erica.”

Thankful for a reprieve from the punishing blows, she gladly complied, widening her legs until she could feel her wet slit open, exposed to him. The first few times Blaine had spanked her, the humiliation of the exposure of her pussy (and often her bottom hole) to his gaze proved more of a trial to her than the actual pain of the spankings. She always felt so…
vulnerable
. Erica well knew that that was precisely the point, but knowing that didn’t make submitting to it any easier for her.

Thick fingers traced the sensitive folds of her labia, smoothing the delicate flesh out with gentle fingertips, then splaying her lips firmly, making her gasp.

Yes, finally.

She never ceased to marvel that two hands that could deal out such pain, be so rough, cruel, yet in the next breath, become so very gentle, attentive, even loving. It was just one of the many remarkable things about the man she called Sir. The man she hoped someday might truly claim her for his own.

A long finger slid into her, curling in the way he knew drove her insane with pleasure.

Oh God, yes!

His finger squelched within her soaked flesh as he stimulated just the right spot within her, the exquisite sensation curling her toes, the tension bunching the strong muscles of her thighs, her abdominals clenching. “Oh, that’s good,” she breathed, her hips rolling, wanting more, needing more. “Oh Jesus, that’s
so good
!”

Then he stopped, his finger held still inside her. She tried to keep it going with her hips, clenching down, twisting upon him, but his hand smacked her sore buttocks. “Stop that. You come when I say you can — if I let you come at all.”