Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“What are you doing?” I ask curiously.
“Just helping you relax,” he says, right before he turns to me. “Sometimes setting the scene can help frame the right sort of mood.”
“I see.”
He sits on the edge of the bed, his collar unfastened, all sophisticated and sexy-disheveled. When he crooks a finger at me, I swallow hard, take a breath, and head to him. His hands anchor on my hips, and he guides me to stand between his knees. In silence, he begins to strip me. First, a gentle tug at the hem of my top, which he lifts over my head and gently tosses to the edge of the bed. I shiver.
“Are you cold, sweetheart?” God, the gentle tone makes my throat get all tingly. It’s disconcerting how he assumes this role as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“No, sir.”
“Good,” he whispers. “And soon, I’ll warm you up anyway.” A soft kiss to my shoulder. My neck. Silky, warm lips on my collarbone then the very top of my breast. I love the feel of his hands spanning my waist, and then lower still, he’s slowly divesting me of every strip of clothing until I’m standing between his legs bared.
“Go to the red glass case next to the sideboard.”
How did I miss this case before? I must’ve been in a sex-induced coma, or maybe this is new, because this case is really freaking scary. I don’t even know what half these things are, but I know their purpose. Paddles, straps, and canes sit on a velvet cushion, as if they’re a display in a gallery, and not spanking implements for impact play at a sex club.
I reach it and look down at them, suddenly feeling both hot and cold at the same time. I wonder what each one feels like and make it my mission to research more heavily. I want to know what I’m facing.
Though his voice is calm, his instruction makes me shiver. “Choose a cane, please.”
I swallow hard. “They’re… the wicked little thin things, aren’t they?”
“They are.”
One looks like it’s wooden and another plastic or… something. “I… don’t know anything about them, sir,” I say. “I’m not really sure which to pick.”
“A cane is a thin, supple, rod-like implement meant to concentrate impact, therefore increasing the severity of a spanking.”
Gah!
“Um. Well, I don’t want to be rude, but I knew that much. I mean, I don’t know which one means…what.”
“You may test them.”
“Test them?” I ask, spinning around to look at him. “Like how?”
A corner of his lips quirks up, though his eyes are still stern. “If you think you can test one on me, you can perish that thought. To test an implement, it helps to tap it on your palm or thigh.”
“Oh. Right,” I say flushing. I lift the edge of the case and remove the stout wooden one. It weighs hardly anything at all and feels wicked in my hand, like a magic wand capable of destruction. I gently close the case and tap the cane it on my palm with a little whoosh. My skin lights with fire and I gasp. Shit. Oh, God. This isn’t going to be fun.
Quickly, I test each one, until he sighs with impatience. “Your time is up.”
There’s no easy choice here. I choose a clear red one with a handle.
“Ah, the acrylic. A fair choice. Now hold the cane in both hands and stand in the corner.”
Oh, lovely. He’s really into drawing this out.
I walk to the corner where he points, dragging the little weapon in my hand, and when I reach the corner, I stand with my nose against it as he instructed, either end of the cane resting in my palms.
The strings of a violin play in the background, the vanilla scent in the air warm and soothing. I swallow hard and finger the edges of the cane, closing my eyes to try to get into the right mindset, but what really is the right mindset?
I’m so preoccupied I don’t hear him approach until I feel him behind me, his hands on my elbows and his mouth to my ear. I jump, but the sound of his voice quickly calms me. “Tonight, you’ll be caned for not taking your safety seriously. I’ve warned you about this, and I want you thinking about how important it is to follow my instructions.”
I nod. “Yes, sir.”
“Imagine the swing and swish of the cane when I punish you. Each stroke will strip away some of what you’ve got welled up in here.” He presses his palm against my chest, but the touch isn’t sexual. Though I’m naked, it’s more like an embrace than anything else. My heartbeat thumps against his palm. “Whatever troubled you when you were home, that you let fester and burn until you needed to attack me when we were alone? Bring that out to the surface, so when I punish you, we begin again.”