14
Summer
“Where you going? You know what comes next right?” he utters and I take several steps back.
“I’m… sorry,” I stutter.
“I gave you the warning. Told you what would happen if you struck me again.”
“You have no idea what that man put me through.”
“That’s why we’re here. You and me. Now bend over.” He wipes away more blood and looks at it smeared over his fingers.
“Please—”
“Five.”
“But—”
“Ten.”
“Eric,” I rasp and my breath hitches when he takes off his belt and loops it around his wrist.
When I see that, adrenaline rushes through me and I run. I don’t care where I go or what happens to me. I just run and hope I find an open door somewhere.
Of course I don’t get far. For as fast as I am, he’s faster. I make it into the hall and I swear all he does is take one big step and he has me. He catches me like the predator he is, again.
I scream as he grabs my arm and I can’t imagine how the belt will feel on my skin. And ten lashes too.
He takes me back to the chair and tosses me over his knee like I’m a rag doll, my kicks and screams falling on deaf ears.
He pulls my shorts down and I recoil before he even touches my skin.
“Eric!”
“You don’t know who you’re messing with Summer. But your about to find out.”
Slap. Slap. Slap.
It’s not with the belt though that I feel the slap across my ass. It’s the wide, calloused skin of his hand. The pain, however, on my still raw skin feels like he could have been hitting me with a brick. The agony from yesterday comes back a hundredfold and tears fall from my eyes.
“Please stop. You’re hurting me. Do something else…. anything but this.” I don’t expect him to stop at the sound of my plea. When he does my breath catches because I know it’s not over.
“Anything but this, Babydoll? Be careful what you ask for, I might just grant you that request. Are you sure that’s what you really want?” He spanks me so hard I feel dizzy. “Because I could keep this up. I truly love the color of my mark on your ass.”
“No more. I’ll do anything if you stop.”
He runs his fingers over my sore ass. He’s gentle but it hurts. I don’t want him to hit me again. Even if I am aroused, the pain is bringing up other memories I don’t want to have. It’s all memories of Ted.
“Clarify what you what, Babydoll. Tell me you want me to pick a different method of punishment,” he speaks with an air menace. “Telling a man like me you’re willing to do anything is never a good thing. It opens the door to my dirty, dark, dangerous mind. You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I want you to pick,” I choke out.
“And I have your full consent to pick anything?”
My breath freezes in my lungs as I think over my nonexistent options. Either I allow him to hit me and push me right back over the edge I spent years trying to lift myself out of, or I agree to whatever anything means.
What if he does worse to me? I don’t know him and like he said, he has a dirty, dark, dangerous mind. Maybe he’ll tie me up again. Men like him get off on the thrill of weakening others. They like the power. They get off on the control that power gives them.