Bound by Her Promise

“Looks that way to me. Do you think that trivialising this will make me change my mind?” His voice came closer, she could almost feel a shadow lying across her back.

“No, no,” she chirped. “I was… cooling my bum.” She stuttered. She pictured him standing over her, waving the paddle in his hand, ready to aim and strike.

“Spread your legs wider, so you are lying flat on the table.”

She complied, shuffling her feet apart.

“Wider.”

“Dammit,” she muttered. Her cleft parted, her sex was exposed.

He brushed his hand down her crevice, then circled his hand around each of her lobes. She wriggled.

“Keep still,” he barked. He repeated his stroking action. “I’ve paddled a few bottoms since I’ve arrived on this hell hole. Yours, by far, is the most attractive one.”

A mortifying bloom of heat rushed across her face. “Do you have to paddle my poor bottom?”

“Yes. Six times. You want proof I’m not the constable? I’m going to show you.”

She readied herself, gripped the edge of the table and held her breath.

The whoosh of air came before the blow. She heard a thwack and her pelvis rammed into the table edge. She waited—a second, a millisecond, she couldn’t tell—then blazing heat spread across both cheeks. The burning sensation grew, and before she could assimilate it, he struck again.

Tears came instantly. They pricked her eyes and she sobbed. Unlike his tantalising playful spanks, he didn’t hold back.

The third strike and she jumped up. He pushed her back down with a hand on the small of her back and left it there, holding her down. The fourth smack of the paddle came lower, on the crease between her thighs and buttocks, right where she sat. She yelped and knocked her forehead against the table. Breathe, breathe.

The fifth, she kicked a leg up as the pain ricocheted around her cheeks. She’d not looked back once to where Blake stood, but now she had to see for herself. Lifting her head, she glanced behind, over her shoulder. Was he grinning? Did he find amusement in spanking her with his mean paddle?

But when she looked closer she saw a determined, concentrated expression—furrows in his forehead, lips straight and unsmiling. He measured the distance to her bottom, angling the paddle as he completed a practice swing. She lowered her head, a small sigh of relief amongst the cry of pain. The final blow landed with an almighty whack.

He removed his hand. “I’m going to carry out an inspection now, Lysa.”

She stiffened. Now, why now?

“When did you last apply the bleaching agent?” he asked, separating her cheeks with his thumbs.

“Yesterday,” she gasped. The horrible stuff stung as usual.

“Looking very pink and lovely back here.” He slid his finger down her folds. “You’re wet.”

How could she be? Her bottom was on fire and the level of humiliation was close to unbearable. Why did this man, her husband, create a confusing mixture of emotions inside her scrambled mind? She lurched forward, trying to escape, as he poked a finger at her puckered anus.

“Hmmm,” he murmured. “I think you’re ready.”

“Ready? Mmm definitely,” she muttered, squirming about on the table, unable to deny her arousal any longer.

“For your anal training.”

Lysa jerked, twisting her body around. Blake stood between her legs, his hands working her gently, probing and teasing. She spied the bulge in his pants.

“Please, Blake, I don’t want one of those beastly plugs in there,” she whimpered.

He walked to the bedside and retrieved the box containing the plugs. He also collected two bottles and placed them on the table by her head. One contained lubricating gel, the other a cleanser. She wanted to knock them flying, but she stowed her trembling hands as he opened the box and removed a plug. Even with a tapered end, the shiny metal plug appeared oversized.

She forgot the furnace burning about her buttocks, another matter distracted her from the discomfort. She leapt up and backed away from the table, wagging a finger at him. Blake put the plug down and walked towards her, matching her paces. Lysa halted. It was pointless trying to run away, he’d already demonstrated he could pick her up and put her wherever he wanted.

His face held no malice, no anger. She hugged herself, chewing on her lip. A minute ago, she’d been ready to come, enjoying his wandering finger.