More than a Dare (Masters Club 4)

Whatever the answer, she’d been busted, and she didn’t really have a leg to stand on.

Pushing open the door to the dungeon, Hayden propelled her inside. He clicked on the lights and headed toward the rack of impact toys. She watched, transfixed, as he drew out a long, slender cane, its handle wrapped in black leather.

“Bend over and hold your knees, slave. You will receive one stroke of the cane. Let it serve as a physical reminder that a slave does not pleasure herself, ever, without her Master’s express permission.”

Dahlia’s stomach swooped unpleasantly. Ice shot through her veins as she stared at the wicked-looking cane. She took a step back, her arms crossing over her chest. “Please. I don’t think—”

“You don’t need to think,” he interrupted. “Just do as you’re told. Now.”

You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.

Heart pounding, Dahlia bent forward and grasped her knees. She felt incredibly vulnerable in that position, ass out, head down, hair hanging in a curtain over her face. At the same time, a jolt of excitement electrified her entire body. She was being punished by her Master!

She tensed, crying out and flinching as something touched her. But instead of the whippy flat of the cane, it was just his hand, which he ran lightly over her bare bottom.

“Calm down,” he said, his voice soothing, the hard edge gone. “Remember. I won’t give you more than you can handle, even as a punishment. This single stroke is just a reminder, Dahlia. A reminder that your body belongs to your Master. You will accept the punishment with grace and thank me afterward. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” she managed, feeling both brave and terrified in equal measure. She thought about Jess on the bondage wheel, welts across her thighs and breasts, her face a study in submissive acceptance, even bliss. Surely, she, Dahlia, could take one single stroke without completely losing it?

She heard the terrifying whoosh of the cane in the fraction of a second before it landed. The impact of it cracked against her ass, but it was a moment or two before her brain registered the pain—a searing, white-hot cut along both cheeks.

She yelped, stumbling forward, though she somehow managed to keep her hands on her knees. Tears sprang to her eyes as she gasped, “Thank you, Sir.”

Hayden appeared in front of her. The sternness was gone from his face. “You took that well. I’m proud of you. Do you want to see the mark?”

Though the welt stung like the dickens, Dahlia experienced a sudden, powerful rush of elation. Pride expanded like a fan opening inside her. She’d done it! She’d experienced the cane without dissolving into a panicky mess.

“Yes, Sir,” she agreed eagerly.

They returned to the bedroom. There was a full-length mirror on the inner door of the closet. Hayden flicked on the overhead light and came to stand in front of her as she twisted back to see herself in the mirror.

She drew in a breath at the sight of the thin red line that neatly bisected her cheeks. She was both horrified and thrilled. Reaching back, she gingerly touched the mark. “Ouch,” she murmured.

Hayden left her there, uncertain what she was supposed to do as he headed to the bathroom. Having been given no direct instruction, she stood still, waiting.

To her relief, he returned just a moment later holding a small jar, the lid already removed. Dipping his fingers into it, he gently stroked soothing balm over the welt.

“It’ll be gone by tomorrow,” he said, something like regret in his tone. Then he flashed an evil grin. “But not to worry. Now that I see how well you handled that virgin stroke, I’ll teach you to take a proper caning. Not as punishment, but as a testament of your submission to your Master.”

“Um,” Dahlia said, a spurt of fear shooting like ice through her veins. But before she could voice her uncertainty, Hayden pulled her into his arms. As their lips touched, he cradled her head gently in one hand, his free arm circling her waist to pull her close. Dahlia sighed with pleasure, surrendering to his tender, passionate kiss.

Chapter 23

She looked so fucking hot draped over the spanking bench, legs and arms bound, ass and cunt sexily on display. Hayden couldn’t decide what he wanted to do first—cane her or fuck her. Maybe he should have her worship his cock first, just to take the edge off so he could concentrate.

No. He would hold off his pleasure. The release would be all the sweeter for the anticipation.

He moved closer to her, gently pressing his palm against the small of her back and trailing his hand lightly along the cleft of her ass. A tremble moved through her body at his touch, but she remained otherwise still and quiet.