Protege

by Lydia Michaels

  Swallowing, she lowered her gaze and stepped through the door. “Thank you, Sir.”

  He grabbed her upper arm, his fingers banding tightly around the muscle and hauling her back to his front. Adrenaline rushed through her as she gasped. Maybe a normal person would be afraid, being grabbed by a man set on spanking her, but all she felt was a rush of excitement, a dark anticipation and satisfaction to feel his touch again.

  His breath tickled her ear as he whispered, “I’m very proud of you.”

  Her knees weakened as she sank into his strength. After such a drought of his presence, his words of praise hit her like a much-needed rain. She leaned into him and sighed. “I’m sorry, Sir. I’m really sorry this time.”

  He kissed her cheek. “I know you are, peach. Go lie over the edge of the mattress, feet on the floor.”

  She nodded and went to the bed. It was tall enough that her back wasn’t strained the way it had been in the kitchen. Folding her arms, she rested her face on the bed and waited.

  His palm brushed slowly over her behind. “I think fifteen should suffice.” The first wallop came with little warning, smacking hard across her right cheek.

  She sucked in a sharp breath, her upper body instinctively lifting off the bed. His hand pressed to her back, holding her in place.

  “Be still, Collette. I will be very upset if you move and affect my aim. That’s the easiest way to hurt yourself.”

  Hurt herself? Her ass was on fire!

  The next smack came and she cursed. He was hitting her hard, harder than she’d been able to apply the paddle to her own bottom.

  The third, fourth, and fifth smacks came down, pelting her sore flesh like cannon fire. Her eyes reflexively started to water, and when the sixth, seventh, and eighth strikes hit, she sobbed.

  It occurred to her that she could use her safe word, but that would undo everything her submission had already accomplished. She needed him to finish, needed to take her sentence, accept her penance so they could move on.

  Nine and ten ripped into her like fire, burning her already ravaged flesh. Once she reached eleven and twelve she started counting backward. Only three more to endure.

  Her breath jaggedly sucked in as the paddle came down again. Her cheeks were wet with tears and her neck stiff with tension. No matter how she tried to relax, it was impossible. Fourteen stung worst of all. She wouldn’t be able to sit for a week.

  His hand brushed over her welted flesh and she gasped. Though his touch was delicate, it was too much. The soft caress was her undoing as a sob ripped from her. His touch withdrew and the fifteenth strike was delivered.

  Somehow she’d kept track, and knowing it was over allowed her to finally go slack. Her knees loosened as she slid toward the floor, wincing as he scooped her up and sat with her on his lap.

  “It’s over now. All’s forgiven, sweetheart. Shh.” He brushed a soft hand over the side of her face as she curled into his bare chest. “It’s over. You did wonderful. You understand why this happened, and now it’s done. I’m proud of you, Collette. Good girl.”

  Her breath continued to shudder in and out of her in sharp, tripping gasps much like when a small child cried. His lips pressed into her brow as he slowly rocked her. Her bottom throbbed as though fingernails were scraping over the tender flesh, yet being held in his arms was the most comforting place she’d been all day. The burn on her behind could almost be forgotten so long as he continued to hold her like that.

  Slowly, her tears dried and she stared with unfocused eyes as she breathed in his scent. The room cooled and her ears relished the silence. Everything became peaceful and safe, her soul resting someplace undisturbed and guarded by the strongest force she knew. Jude.

  Swallowed by the unexpected sense of relief, her thoughts were unburdened. She stopped thinking about the spanking or the burn left in its wake. She only thought about his care, his deep need to teach and protect her, his demand that she rise up and be the best submissive she could be. For him, she greatly wanted to be such a woman.

  Her nose nestled into his chest as his fingers delicately tugged at her hair, brushing through the curls. She could sit there forever, in his arms, but the one thing she was absolutely certain of, the reason she was presently sitting on his lap with the sorest ass she’d ever had, was that she would be sleeping alone in her own bed tonight.

  What she didn’t expect was for him to join her. He carried her to her bed sometime after she’d already caught herself drifting in his arms. Once he tucked her in, he slid behind her and continued to hold her.

  His soft whispers filled her with warmth as his body spooned hers. “Rest now, my beautiful peach. I’ll hold you and stay with you for a bit. I’m here.”

  She blinked through bleary eyes at the opened door. What did this mean? As her mind fought to make sense of this unexpected development, she burned the last of her mental strength and finally glided into a deep sleep.

  She woke twice in the middle of the night, each time reaching for Jude and finding him at her side. “Go back to sleep, Collette,” he gently whispered, and kissed her shoulder. But when she woke just before dawn, he was gone.

  It was slight, but meaningful progress, she believed.

  Chapter Nine

  Many believe dominance liberates the submissive. But submitting to a dominant figure provides the Dom with such fulfillment they are also freed. Such intrinsic dependency cannot exist apart. One solely depends on the other—yin and yang. When achieved correctly, it becomes impossible to define which counterpart is more emotionally bound, for they are tied together, and therefore, both set free.

  Jude stared out the window as he sat behind his desk, contemplating this very thought over and over again, yet reaching no decision. It had been four days since spanking Collette and they had yet to sleep together. Partially, this was due to her cycle, an interference he didn’t usually bow to, but in this situation it was the perfect excuse. He needed to come to terms with his shit.

  She’d been upset with the sleeping arrangements, but that was only part of the issue. It was altogether a need for closeness he couldn’t provide, though he’d made more concessions than he’d intended already.

  How was he supposed to mimic such intimacy for her if he wasn’t invested to that degree? Could his personal reluctance to get emotionally involved be translating to punishment in her eyes? He wasn’t sure, but the possibility was of great concern.

  Over the last few days, he’d been reviewing Collette’s paperwork and compiling notes. In his eyes, she was the ideal submissive, with a deeply rooted desire to serve and needing very little direction. She only required a strong man to enable her service with ample opportunity and appreciation. She would be matched quickly, despite the influx of submissives waiting to be matched in the system.

  They didn’t pair off couples unless they scored above ninety percent in their compatibility grid. It was a complex equation that had taken years to finalize, but he put his faith into the system they’d created. The remaining ten percent was based on personal response. No matter how perfect a couple might seem on paper, sometimes they just didn’t click. But it was the ninety percent that allowed them to test their personal theories face to face.

  Collette was such a natural, despite being a novice. She covered various areas of the grid, making her accessible to various partners. Kink factors would come into play, but in reality, such things didn’t hold much weight.

  Time was running out and Jude was procrastinating for reasons unclear to him. This momentary hiatus provided him the time to regroup. It also allowed her the chance to heal her pride and sore rear end.

  A soft knock came from the door, and his body immediately pulled to attention. She wore soft gray yoga pants and an off-the-shoulder navy sweater. Her hair was up in a bun, long springs sneaking down her neck and trailing behind her ears.

  “Sir?”

 
“Yes, Collette.”

  Her expression was blank, but her eyes told him she wanted something. “I was wondering if . . .” He waited for her to finish her thought. “Can I . . .” She swallowed, her hands fidgeting where they hung at her waist. “Do you need anything?”

  Ah. He turned and scrutinized her. “Has your period ended?”

  “No, but it’ll probably be gone by tomorrow. I usually only have it for four days.” She licked her lips. “I could . . . take care of you.”

  Sometimes his ex-wife would feel displaced if he didn’t touch her for a few days. She’d get squirrelly and often act out in an attempt to gain his attention. He admired a woman who possessed the courage to ask for what she needed. His lesson about communicating honestly must have registered.

  He stood and rounded the desk. When he reached the front, he leaned against the ledge. Eyeing her carefully, he lowered his zipper. “You may come in.”

  She closed the door, which amused him, being that they rarely had company. She walked slowly to him and waited. He sensed her submissive nature, felt the pull of her soft character waking his alpha. His finger traced down her cheek, her lashes lowering as she sucked his digit into her mouth.

  Her lips, full and tempting, released him as her hazel eyes refocused on his face. “May I pleasure you, Sir?”

  Such beautiful, delicate submission. She made it so easy for him, proving that, with the right counterpart, a Dom didn’t need to be harsh and demanding. “On your knees, my beautiful peach.”

  She lowered with the grace he’d come to expect from her. Such an improvement compared to her positioning when they first started. She gazed up at him for direction and his curiosity took over.

  “You offered me a gift, and I accept, peach. Please, take care of me. You know what I need.”

  This seemed to throw her off. Though they often connected under his explicit direction, she didn’t require more than his permission. This was how it typically worked in reality. Not every day was an intense scene. Sometimes there was just closeness and a satisfaction of needs.

  For as much as he was the one about to be pleasured, it was her need to serve him that was being satisfied. The balance was a stunning sample of the give-and-take he cherished in a relationship.

  Leaning up, she reached for his cock and carefully pulled it out, her hand stroking him slowly. He watched, fascinated by the courage it took her to make the next move. A little encouragement, perhaps. “I love your hands on me. And your mouth.”

  Leaning forward, she licked and kissed the tip and he sighed. “Mmm, my sweet peach.” His fingers brushed her over her bun. “You take such good care of me.”

  Her lips parted and he was engulfed in suctioning heat. His spine tingled as the ligaments in his legs stretched, his fingers closing around the ledge of the desk as his hips thrust forward. Her body lifted as she leaned into him, her hands holding her balance against his thighs.

  She worked him over well, taking him deep in her throat. His eyes fell shut as he embraced the beauty of her touch, the skill of her attention. When his body tingled, he widened his stance and ran the backs of his fingers from her temple to her jaw.

  “You look so pretty with my cock stuffing your mouth.”

  Her eyes, wide and thickly lined with soft lashes, stared up at him as his hand slid under her jaw and cupped her gently. His other hand palmed the back of her head. “You’re going to swallow every drop, aren’t you, peach?”

  Her head slightly nodded within his hold and he pressed forward, stabbing the back to her throat with each thrust. “That’s it. Take my cock. Open wide. Show me how much you love swallowing my cum.”

  Her throat relaxed and he forced himself as deep as he could go, fucking her mouth rapidly as his toes curled in his shoes. She moaned, her grip tightening on his thighs as his release burst into her mouth, sliding quickly down her throat.

  She continued to suck and once he found his bearings he pulled himself out of her mouth and leaned down. Still holding her jaw, he kissed her deeply, tasting his own flavor on her lips and tongue.

  Pulling away slowly, he whispered, “You honor me. Thank you, peach.”

  Her body trembled as she stared at him. It would kill him to see her look at someone else the way she was looking at him now. The longer he put off the inevitable, the greater his dread grew.

  He should have said something sweet and encouraging in that intimate moment, but as always, his need to keep her emotions in check—and perhaps his own—trumped all. “I want you to plan a menu for Saturday. We’re going to be entertaining some friends. I’ll let you know how many by tonight.”

  Her expression wasn’t wounded by any means. On the contrary, she seemed to relish the challenge of a project. However, the moment her gaze shifted from adoration to determination, he wished he could take it back and glimpse the reverence in her eyes a second longer.

  That afternoon he made some calls. Ezra was in agreement that putting off a ménage any longer would only mislead her. It was something she’d asked to experience, and there was no reason to deny her. The selection of players was difficult.

  In truth, the idea of sharing her with others didn’t sit well, but that wasn’t his call as she wasn’t technically his. This was about her, not him. Ezra offered his services and that seemed like a safe bet. Lea was very interested in participating for parts of the evening, and the fact that she would be there with Ezra also worked. However, for his own personal reasons, they still needed another man present, and that complicated things.

  “You know who you should ask. I don’t know why you’re even considering others,” Ezra said, as they danced around the options.

  Fernweh was ripe with submissives awaiting their perfect Doms, but a perfect Dom was hard to find. There were a few unmatched members here and there who had established roots while they waited for their counterpart to arrive. Brys was one of them.

  “He’s too damn eager.”

  “So?” Ezra scoffed. “For all we know they’re meant to be. Why not let them test their chemistry?”

  Jude ground his teeth. “Fine. I’ll ask him—”

  “He’s already made it quite clear he’s onboard.”

  Which was exactly why he didn’t want to give the man the satisfaction. Jude’s convoluted feelings for Collette were indeed complicating matters, further highlighting the fact that this needed to transpire. Jude could be the third, but that wasn’t happening. Not with her, not with anyone. It was nothing personal.

  Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

  “Tell him to expect an e-mail regarding the ground rules sometime tomorrow.”

  “He’s not a bad choice, Jude. Lea enjoys him. Says he’s gentle with certain things that can’t be rushed.”

  It wasn’t that he disliked Brys. It was just their difference in opinion on a few things that had him hesitating. He should take pity on the man. Other than himself, Brys was the only person to suffer a failed marriage in Fernweh. The guy deserved a shake of luck.

  “Fine. I should be thinking about Collette anyway. I’ll trust your wife’s judgment.”

  While orgies and the like used to excite him, this case didn’t have the usual effect. Perhaps it was Collette’s lingering concern that a lack of fidelity could trigger something unwanted inside her. He’d share her concerns in his e-mail to the others. If she had an undesirable reaction, the scene would end immediately. He’d remind her again not to hesitate if she wanted to use her safe word. Part of him wished she would.

  ***

  Collette set the dishwasher to heavy and gathered the roasting pan to wash by hand.

  “Dinner was delicious. You’re quite the chef.” Lea complimented her as she placed a few saucers in the sink.

  “Thank you.”

  Things had actually gone better than she’d planned. Her brisket was almost ruined when she realized sh
e was out of fresh dill, but at the last minute she substituted rosemary and it turned out better than ever.

  Jude hadn’t invited a large crowd. She’d expected a grouping of close to six couples, like when they visited his friends’ homes for dinner. Tonight, however, was much smaller, intimate in a way she preferred. It was only the five of them, her and Jude, Ezra and Lea, and that nice gentleman, Brys.

  He’d been very flattering throughout dinner, continuously complimenting her skill in the kitchen and asking questions about her southern cooking habits. At one point Jude seemed a bit irritated by the other man’s attention, but that was silly. Jude was doing all of this so she could meet an available match. Since the beginning he’d made it clear that person wouldn’t be him.

  It had taken a long time for her to accept he was unavailable, and part of her still believed he was fooling himself as much as she was lying to herself, but she needed to keep her head in this strange new world, and that meant keeping an open mind.

  “Oops, I dropped a fork.” The silverware clattered to the floor and Collette looked over her shoulder as Lea’s dark head lowered. As she stood her hand ran up the inside of Collette’s leg until her hand cupped her bottom, causing her to still.

  “Here you go,” Lea rasped in a throaty voice as the fork slid into the sink.

  “Um.” Collette sidled away, cutting off the contact. “Thank you. I have it from here.”

  Lea stepped behind her and reached to the faucet, shutting off the water. Her body pressed into Collette’s as the sponge left a trace of dry bubbles on her fingers. The soft scent of perfume met her nose as Lea’s mouth pressed a kiss to her neck. Collette’s eyes went wide.

  What’s happening?

  “This is what tonight is, you know? He arranged it for you.” The other woman’s tongue slowly traced her ear.

  “W-what?” It was hard to concentrate with Lea touching her like that.

  “Have you ever had your pussy licked by a woman, Collette? I bet you taste as sweet as southern apple pie.”