by Cara Bristol
Jordan flicked a switch on the wall panel to activate the room's mic so board members could hear.
"Let's get this over with.” Dan said grimly. He moved to the wall of implements and eyed the options. His only choices were bad and worse. A smaller, narrower paddle would concentrate the force; a larger one would spread out the impact, but would cover more area. Dan selected a medium one, hoping to minimize the extremes.
He set his selection on the chair. “Let me have your glasses,” he said. Emma removed the frames and handed them to him. He placed them next to the paddle.
"You'll need to bend over the spanking bench.” He pointed to the taller one. “It won't be a bare-bottom spanking, but I'll need to lift your skirt."
Emma blanched but stepped to the form and leaned over, presenting her backside to the two-way. Her arms dangled. Dan knelt and pointed out the leather loops attached to the legs. “Hang on to these. They will help,” he deadpanned. Aware of the mic, he held open the loops and leaned close.
"Don't do this, Emma. Stop this now!” he ordered in a low voice for her ears only, dismayed by her mulishness. If they were married and she insisted on doing something not in her best interests, he'd spank her most certainly. But not like this—not coldly, in front of an audience. He'd discipline her in private, where he could care for her, reassure her, love her.
"I have to,” she murmured, her voice husky. He could hear the thickness of suppressed tears, and it wrenched his heart.
"No, you don't,” he insisted in a whisper.
Jordan cleared his throat in warning and nodded slightly at the mirror.
"I do.” Emma's liquid gray eyes laid bare her emotions: anxiety, stubbornness, and love. He ached to kiss her fears away, kiss her because he loved her.
"Oh, Em.” He covered one of her hands, wrapped in the loop of leather, with one of his, then gently squeezed her icy fingers.
Dan rose to his feet. The invisible scrutiny of the men behind the two-way bored into him. Emma wore a conservative white blouse with a simple black skirt that fell a couple of inches above her knees. He prayed she didn't have on a thong or a sexy pair of boy shorts that exposed half her butt. The men could view the spanking, but they had no business gawking at her ass.
Dan took a breath, raised Emma's skirt—and exhaled silently in a gush of relief. He'd never been so happy to see granny panties in his life. But even her plain white cotton briefs didn't disguise the pert roundness of her heart-shaped ass. Even in old-lady underwear, she exuded sex appeal. Or maybe it was because of the underwear.
He tucked the hem of her skirt into its waistband, restraining himself from smoothing his palm over her rounded rear. The white briefs protected her modesty, but the contrast of those innocent panties and the unintended provocativeness of her pose sent a shaft of desire skittering through him. He imagined her posed like this in his home.
Dan's cock twitched, and his lips thinned in self-disgust. There was nothing erotic about this for Emma; there should have been nothing carnal about it for him. What the fuck was wrong with him, anyway? Emma deserved better than to have him leering at her. For the way she'd deceived people, she deserved a spanking. But not like this.
He picked up the paddle.
DOUBLED OVER THE bench, Emma clung to the leather straps with a viselike grip, wishing she could get a hold of her feelings as easily. Every emotion under the sun careened through her body like rocket-propelled pinballs. Her legs trembled with nervousness, and her face burned with humiliation, but her heart swelled with giddiness. Her tummy curled with relief.
Dan still cared. As he'd knelt beside her, he'd revealed his feelings in his gaze, his touch. By some miracle, he'd forgiven her. Despite her precarious circumstances, her heart sang. She could bear anything knowing Dan still wanted her; his concern reassured her that she was doing the right thing and strengthened her resolve.
She was profoundly relieved Dan would be the one to discipline her. It made the paddling seem like a shared experience rather than a public punishment. It made it seem intimate.
Yeah, intimate. Just her, Dan, the proctor guy, and the entire board observing from the adjacent room. Thank goodness Melania had cautioned her to wear conservative underwear. She had to block the awareness of her observers from her mind, pretend they didn't exist.
Pretend the tiniest trace of excitement wasn't skipping along her nerves, kindling a throb in her clit. Make believe she hadn't imagined herself like this—draped over a spanking bench in the privacy of their home while Dan played stern headmaster to her naughty schoolgirl.
But all fantasy, all pleasure evaporated in a flash of pain as the paddle connected with her ass. Emma grunted, and before she could catch her breath, another blow seared the other cheek square in the middle.
The intensity bore no comparison to the delightful sting of Dan's hand kissing her bottom. Or the sharp pleasure of her hairbrush connecting with her flesh. Or the invigorating and arousing game-play session. This paddling was meant to punish, pure and simple.
Emma swore to be stoic, yet as each blow fell, she couldn't hold back a cry.
Dan alternated cheeks, spanking with an even pace, but while she could tell he avoided hitting the same spot twice in a row, soon flames consumed her backside.
"Eleven.” Dimly she registered Jordan counting out the strikes. She clung to the leather straps, her body writhing and twisting.
And then Dan paused. “Do you need a break?” he rasped. Her ass throbbed.
"That's not in the bylaws,” Jordan said.
"Fuck the bylaws.” Dan growled. “Fuck this whole thing. Emma, I want you to end this."
"Her membership will be terminated permanently,” Jordan said quietly.
His words shot a jolt of panic through her heart. “No! I don't want to quit. I'm...I'm okay, Dan. Please.” Emma tried to keep the wobble from her voice. “J-just finish.” She would accept her punishment through to the end, but that didn't mean she wanted the experience to be drawn out.
As if he recognized her wish to speed up the pace, he increased the tempo of the smacks. She wasn't sure, but it appeared he wasn't striking quite as hard. But because there was no place on her backside the paddle hadn't touched, it was no less painful.
Through it all, Jordan called out the spanks clear and loud so the viewing board members would be assured she was receiving the full measure of discipline ordered. But Emma thanked the count for the glimpse of the finish line it afforded her.
Smack. “Nineteen."
Smack. “Twenty."
Her cries were the only noise in the room, except for the sharp crack of the paddle, a sound forever imprinted on her brain, one she would equate with not only her punishment, but the act that had warranted it.
Emma had messed with people's livelihoods to further her own. The members of the Rod and Cane Society had been practicing their devotion privately, quietly, until she'd ripped the curtain away and exposed them to public ridicule. She had no right to do that.
And now here she was. A spanked woman who'd consented to punishment. Her choice, seemingly, but was it? Wasn't there a certain karmic justice? How apt, too, that Rod and Cane had appointed Dan to spank her.
That it was Dan, the man she loved, made it bearable, this thing they now shared. The act of discipline forged an invisible tie. With each strike of the paddle, the band of intimacy wound tighter, drawing them closer, until she and Dan formed two parts of the same whole.
"Thirty-one."
"Thirty-two.” Seconds after the final searing blow fell, the paddle clattered to the floor as if Dan had thrown it.
Her ass burned so viciously, she barely noticed when Dan lowered her skirt over her behind. He knelt and untangled her hands from her death grip on the leather straps. Her skin had gone white where she'd cut off circulation.
Bent over as she'd been, the blood had rushed to her head, causing the room to spin when Dan helped her stand. He wiped her cheek with the back of a finger, and she realized she'd be
en crying. She averted her face from the mirror, shamed by her weakness in front of the men.
"It's done.” Dan glared at the mirror, then at Jordan.
The proctor flipped a switch on the wall panel. “The sound is off,” he said and then closed the thick, heavy drapes over the mirror. He exited.
Dan hauled her into his arms, permitting no space between them. Emma buried her face against the soothing warmth of his chest and leaned on his strength. She could hear his heart race with the emotion. He pressed his lips to her hair.
For the longest time, he held her.
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Chapter Twenty
Even though Emma insisted she could drive her own car, Dan buckled her into the passenger seat of his SUV, handling her as if she were delicate porcelain and could shatter at any moment. She curled her mouth with the irony: she'd proven she was unbreakable.
Dan headed out, and after a couple of turns, Emma said, “This isn't the way to my house."
"No, I'm taking you to mine.” Dusk had fallen, so she could not read his expression, but authority teemed in his tone; he wasn't asking permission. “I'll arrange to get your car later. It will be fine where it is."
"Okay.” Emma leaned to one side, easing direct pressure on her buttocks and the tops of her thighs. Her heart thumped, its pounding beat matching the throbbing in her ass. She understood they were a couple again, but their relationship had altered. Exactly what the difference was, though, she couldn't put her finger on.
"We need to talk, but let's do that after we get home, okay?” Dan laced his fingers through hers.
"Okay,” she said.
He held her hand until he needed both of his to negotiate the winding roads. The silence that descended wasn't awkward, but it wasn't fully comfortable either, as unresolved issues and unspoken explanations weighed on Emma's mind.
Dan cut the engine outside his house, and he bounded out and rounded the SUV to open her door. With as much care as when he'd put her into the vehicle, he helped her out.
She downplayed the fierce ache. “I'm fine. Just a little sore. You act like I'm coming home from the hospital,” she joked.
"It seems that way.” He looked grim under the streetlight. “Only it feels like I'm the one who put you there."
"No!” she denied with a vigorous shake of her head. “None of this is your fault."
"Let's talk inside."
Night shrouded his house, and Emma waited until he flipped a switch and chased the shadows from the room. She faced him then and shivered at the sight of the piercing hunger in his eyes. All traces of ice had melted; what she saw now was pure heat, but his touch was gentle as he slid his hand underneath her hair to her neck and tilted her head. “You're mine, Em,” he said and brought his mouth to her lips, communicating better than words ever could that he still wanted her, that she remained a part of his life.
He didn't tease or coax, but claimed possession with a tender command, the roughened hardness of his jaw scraping a raspy trail with the movement of his mouth. Emma clung to him, easing her need by satisfying his.
Dan broke off the kiss. “Come.” He clasped her hand. “I want to take care of your ass."
He led her to his bedroom. “Take off your skirt and panties, and lie down. I'll get the stuff.” He disappeared into the bathroom.
She kicked off her shoes and stripped the clothing off her lower half, but because it felt awkward to be half dressed, she removed her blouse and bra also. After setting her glasses on the nightstand, she stretched out naked on the bed crosswise.
Moments later, the mattress depressed, and Dan held out a bottle of green gel. “Aloe vera,” he said. “It will soothe the burn.” He uncapped the lid and poured a generous amount into his palm. “This will feel cold."
Despite the warning, she yelped when a dollop of icy gel touched her overheated flesh. Dan massaged the lotion into her cheeks, both cooling and reigniting the sting. She wiggled under his gentle touch. They had issues to settle, explanations to make, but she couldn't imagine a more perfect moment.
"Am I red?” she asked.
"Pink,” he answered. “I tried not to keep hitting the same spot, but Rod and Cane paddles deliver maximum sting, so you'll be sore for a few days."
"I can handle it.” After their naughty-girl game, she'd been quite achy but had thrived under the sensation. This, however, differed dramatically in intensity and the emotions it evoked. The soreness would not dissipate as quickly, nor would the memory, which she would file under experiences to not repeat.
Dan extended his reach and ran his hands over her back and shoulders, then swept them down her body. Tender. Assessing. Possessive. You belong to me, he communicated with every stroke of his fingers.
A misaligned gear suddenly clicked into its proper groove, and a core-deep contentment settled over Emma. Dan would care for her, love her, provide the guidance she needed. And she would care for him, love him, respect him as he deserved. The stars had certainly been in sync the day their paths had crossed. Emma smiled, thinking of the role her ginger fur ball had played. And her own negligence in allowing Jinx to escape, which hadn't happened again since Dan had spanked her for it. Emma sighed, her thoughts and muscles relaxing under Dan's magic touch. She parted her legs to allow him to massage her inner thighs.
"Mm,” she moaned. “That feels...good.” Right. Perfect. Complete.
He worked his way to her calves. She jerked and giggled when he touched the arches of her feet.
"Ticklish, are you?” He captured her ankle and grazed his fingernail across the sole.
"A little.” She attempted to wrench her foot out of his grasp. “Dan!” she shrieked when he made another swipe across the bottom.
He chuckled but released her, and moved his hands to her waist. “How about here?” He tickled her side.
Emma took a breath and confessed, “No, only my feet."
"Nowhere else? Are you sure?” He stroked her tender ass and snaked his hand between her thighs to home in on her clit. “How about here?” Emma moaned in pleasure and lifted her hips slightly to accommodate his touch. He drew small, tight circles, and Emma thrust against his hand as desire kindled. Moisture trickled from her pussy, and Dan used her wetness to lubricate the engorged, tightening bud.
Her pussy quivered, aching to be filled, and he must have read her mind, because he inserted two fingers, and Emma reared up to take him deeper.
She clenched her muscles around him, but it wasn't enough; she needed to be totally filled. “I need you inside me, Dan. Please,” she said, emotion craving its physical counterpart.
Abruptly he released her, and she heard the rustle of clothing being torn off. She rolled over to watch him, but winced as her ass connected with the bed. His eyes blazed with self-recrimination, and she knew he was thinking about his having to have spanked her to satisfy Rod and Cane.
"No,” she said. “Don't go there. It was my decision. We'll talk later. Right now all you need to do is fuck me."
His cheeks dimpled with that adorable, lopsided grin. “I can do that."
The remainder of his clothing hit the floor in record time, and he was naked, his body ripped and ready for action. He stretched out onto the bed and pulled Emma on top of him. She lowered herself onto his cock and worked his thick rod into her pussy, sighing with pleasure at the delicious stretch. Dan raised his head and sucked a nipple, gently at first, then with increasing vigor. Sweet, hot sensation flowed through Emma, and she moaned, raising and lowering herself onto his cock, forcing him deeper and harder with every downward stroke.
She needed this man. Craved not just his touch, but his presence, his love, his mastery. Her longing, physical and emotional, built to fever pitch, searing hotter than any strike against her ass, and she came, thrusting herself onto his cock like a woman possessed.
Growling, Dan grabbed her hips as his cock contracted inside her, and he spilled himself.
Emma collapsed atop his chest, going lim
p with satisfied exhaustion. His spent cock slipped out of her, and his chest rose and fell with his respiration, his heart beating soothingly against her breasts. He smelled woodsy and male, and she filled her lungs with his scent.
He caressed her back, his touch featherlight as he grazed her aching cheeks. His body tensed. “Why did you do it, Em? You didn't have to."
Emma lifted her head and met his serious gaze. “I did have to. I wanted to make amends. I still think Rod and Cane is a hot story, but I should have been honest and told people what I was doing."
"No one would have talked to you."
Emma shrugged one shoulder. Most likely not. Aside from their desire for privacy, Rod and Cane members would not have violated the confidentiality agreement. “I'd had reservations about the story before you spanked me, but that cinched it in my mind."
She stared into Dan's eyes. “I didn't send in the column. My ex did. He had dropped in uninvited and snooped around on my computer. He got jealous that I had started seeing you, and I suspect that was his way of getting even."
Emma rolled off Dan and sat up with a wince. “I didn't know you were a Rod and Cane member until Melania Traynor mentioned it the other day. I was going to tell you I was in the Wives Auxiliary, but before I could, well, the shit hit the fan."
Dan reached out and stroked her nipple. It hardened immediately. “I'm sorry I wouldn't let you explain. If I had, maybe you could have avoided a public punishment.” He cupped her breast, captured the hard tip between his thumb and forefinger, and squeezed gently. “I got the impression you agreed to the reprimand, at least in part, to prove to me how sorry you were. I shouldn't have put you through the humiliation."
Emma shook her head and arched into his touch. His cock thickened again, and her pussy grew moist. “I did want to make things right between us, but mostly I wanted to wipe the slate clean and start fresh with Rod and Cane.” She swallowed. “I need discipline."
Dan stopped stroking and looked at her with a serious expression. “Discipline is different than spanking for pleasure."
Emma chuckled. “You don't need to tell me. But now it's over, and I feel relieved. The matter is settled, and I don't need to worry anymore.” She stared into Dan's eyes. “I was willing to abide by the board's decision, but I can't imagine what it would have been like if anyone but you had spanked me."
