Branded (The Club)

Sloan crossed his arms over his chest. “You make it sound like this isn’t the first offence.”

Damn.

“I-I was just. Sloan.”

He hauled me up into his arms, tossing me over his shoulder like I was no more than a sack of feed. He spanked my ass once, and the sting promptly shut me up.

“That doesn’t count toward the ten I’m going to give you just so you know.” His tone was cold and a little frightening.

I wiggled and earned another spank that wasn’t going to count either. I was deposited on the bed unceremoniously. Sloan sat on the end removing his boots and his belt buckle. My eyes widened as he tossed them both in the corner.

“I don’t use the belt, you’re lucky.”

“Can we negotiate?” I scooted back on the bed, and he looked at me like I was crazy. “Please?” I asked.

He husked out a deep breath, smacking his lips together in a frustrated hiss. “You can safe word out, but I’ll have Conner drive you back to Karim.”

“So that’s it. That’s my option?”

“Take it or leave it. Despite my predilections for control, I don’t relish punishments. I don’t get off on spanking per say. At least not these kind.” If I learned anything it was that Sloan was a man of action. Words were not where he excelled. He had warned me. I didn’t listen. In a way, I supposed I deserved this.

“I’m n-not going to safe word.” Crawling down the bed closer to Sloan I hunched myself over. He was sitting now and patted his jean clad lap.

“I’m doing this because I told you I would.” He hauled me over his lap like one would a naughty child.

“I don’t have to like it,” I said.

“I imagine you won’t.” His hand rested on the small of my back. The other one lifted my dress exposing me to him.

“S-Sloan, I’m sorry I disobeyed, but I’m not sorry I gave Blackjack the apple.”

“I didn’t think you would be, Luchadora. Now count.”

The spanks were hard enough tears sprang to my eyes, but not the bruising kind I expected. The first one shocked me. The second made me tense until Sloan forced me to relax and breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. By the time I got to six, my skin felt an unexpectedly hot numbness. On seven I squirmed. Eight was no better and nine surely did things to my psyche. Ten broke me.

I wasn’t broken in the physical sense but an emotional fragment chipped off, leaving me raw and aching. Sloan turned me over, his blue eyes wide and examining my face.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

I nodded because it was the only thing I could do when words failed me. How was I to express that I was okay? In fact, I might have even liked it. It wasn’t a punishment if I enjoyed it, was it? I was confused, and Sloan wiped the tears back from my face with his thumbs.

I cleared my throat to speak.

“I’m okay. I’m better than okay.” We both leaned in, lips touching.

“Don’t ever scare the shit out of me like that again, do you understand?” he said flipping me over on the bed, grinding his hard dick against my soaking wet center that left a wet spot of heat against his jeans.

I shook my head affirmatively. He kissed me deeply, tongue penetrating and searching. Hands pulled my dress up and my fingers fumbled to release the button and zipper of his jeans. Grunting and struggling, he shimmied out of his pants, and I straddled his body over me. Our coupling was fast, rough, and oh so very satisfying. My ass pressed into the bed linens, a hot thing almost removed from my corporeal body. Sloan rocked into me, balls slapping me, and jutted high into my core. My legs clenched tightly around him and he sped up, pumping furiously. We worked out our anger, hurt, and confusion in our coupling. Exhausted, we collapsed and rolled into each other, sweat slicked skin cooling as the sun set and the moon skulked higher in the night sky.

14

Sloan

It was the last day of our month. Langley would be leaving. I would be alone. Walking the hallway of my house, my bare feet slapped against the tile flooring, and my chest felt heavy knowing that our arrangement had come to a conclusion. Parting from a submissive had never been a problem for me prior to this. I cataloged in my mind the moments I cherished most, from her first surrender to the way she cried prettily over my shoulder when she came multiple times and lost control of her emotions.

I had effectively broken my wild filly. She accepted the bridal and saddle. Human behavior seemed no different through reward and punishment, only I wanted her to stay. I wanted her to stay, not because of an agreement but of her own free will.

Walking into the living room with the windows facing the prairie field where the horses roamed within the ranch’s fencing, I watched the sunlight cast her in a backdrop of golden light. Everything about her glowed, filling me with warmth.