Black Light: Branded

by Parker, Kay Elle

  To argue or not to argue, that was the question. One look at Finn's face set in disciplinary lines, and she knew the answer was no. Even though she had excuses on the tip of her tongue, they were weak, and they certainly wouldn't stand up under the rigid logic of Master Finnegan.

  Her eyes darted forward as the phone dropped to the floor, only for Finn to retrieve it and return it to his pocket.

  “He can't see you, but if you stall any longer, I'll certainly invite him to witness your punishment.”

  Lifting her butt off the seat, she fumbled with her belt buckle and flipped open the button on her jeans. Pushing the denim over her hips and down her thighs, she hung her head and inched over toward her Dom, belatedly realizing she hadn't fastened her safety belt.

  With a sigh, Finn shifted into the center seat and tugged her over his lap. His right arm pinned her shoulders; his left leg trapped hers between his. He controlled her every wiggle, and she couldn't even do that.

  “L-Lube?” she wheezed as he parted her cheeks.

  “Figging doesn't require lube, it destroys all these lovely juices. So, you're going to have to redeem yourself and be a very good girl, aren't you?” Something prodded her bottom hole, twisting and thrusting gently. “Considering how slick your pussy is, I'm guessing you intend to be a very attentive sub. Perhaps if you take your punishment well, we can arrange something for later this evening. Now, bear down, Ava.”

  She closed her eyes against the embarrassment of lying over his lap in a moving car, with a stranger just a few feet in front of her. She prayed Finn wasn't lying when he said the driver couldn't see them. Prayed harder than she'd ever done in her life. However much the humiliation wanted to choke her, she couldn't deny her pussy was feeling just a little...wanton.

  A sharp slap on her ass directed her attention away from the lustful hussy between her legs and back to the raw ginger pushing against her anus. It wasn't any thicker than Finn's finger, definitely didn't compare to the girth of his cock. As far as penance went, she'd had worse.

  Ava sucked in a breath, held it, released it, and relaxed.

  “There we go,” Finn said smugly, patting her ass as the ginger pushed home, a thick knob keeping it from going too deep. “Okay, little minx, you can sit up and get your clothing back in order now.”

  Baffled, she frowned. His hands were gentle, helping her off his lap, but his eyes gleamed wickedly as she wiggled back into her jeans and returned to her seat. “That's it? No spanking, no cathartic release, just a little butt plug?”

  He arranged himself in the corner, much like she had, and didn't take his eyes off her face. That dark look was slightly unnerving, as though he knew something she didn't and was just waiting for her to cotton onto it. “I'm saving the spanking for the plane ride. Other than that, you just need to sit there quietly and...tolerate your punishment, little minx.”

  O-kay... Ava settled herself deeper into her seat, prepared to follow whatever order Finn threw at her next, but there wasn't one. Her brain circled the word figging with a bright red pen, demanding access to her memories to find some clue as to what this punishment actually entailed. There was a memory, just out of reach, until the burning ache in her ass jostled it free.

  “They cried. Begged and pleaded with their Doms to take it out. Whimpered and wailed and wriggled their abused bottoms to make the burning stop. But nothing punishes an errant submissive like a figging.”

  Oh shit. Her eyes flew to his, met the satisfied and almost wolfish gray gaze with horror. “Finn?”

  “The rectum is a remarkable part of the anatomy, little dove,” he drawled, his beautiful mouth curving into a smile to match the look in his eyes. “It's strong and durable to a degree, has an incredibly high absorption rate, and is phenomenally sensitive. It really doesn't like irritants, especially ones like peppermint, soap, and ginger. It won't harm you, but you're going to be rethinking the decisions you made today, Ava.”

  The ache deepened slowly, creeping through her until she couldn't just sit and take it. She started to wrestle her jeans back down so she could get her hand between the waistband and her lower back. It needed to come out now; that finger of ginger root was surely Satan's favorite toy to play with in his pit of demons.

  “Ah-ah. You take the punishment or you safe word, Ava. There's no taking matters into your own hands when your submission rests in mine.” Finn sat, legs stretched out in front of him, his hands linked together and resting on his stomach. “I think it ought to be stinging a bit by now.”

  Stinging? Oh, she was past the stinging phase and apparently heading into fire ant territory. Her body was adamant she was on fire, slowly incinerating from the inside out. Wiggling didn't aid her cause—movement only seemed to exacerbate the burning. But she couldn't sit still. “I'm going to die from a vegetable up my ass, Finn! Do you really want that on your conscience? Do you?”

  “The next thirty minutes are certainly going to be uncomfortable,” he told her with a slight shrug, “but you're not going to die. I wouldn't do anything that put your safety at risk, Ava. This is what happens when you don't think through your actions before you set them into motion.” He looked at his watch, smirked. “We'll be at the airfield soon. As soon as we take off, you can strip and present yourself properly, and we can get the second half of your chastisement over and done.”

  “Oh, my God, you sadist,” she whispered, breathing through her teeth. “How hard are you right now?”

  Finn's eyes darkened with disapproval. “Submissives don't have the right to ask that question when they're in trouble, Ava. Being uncomfortable doesn't mean you can subvert submission with sass. I want to put this behind us before we reach Black Light, not continue it throughout the evening.”

  Ava bit back a moan. He had a point, but she'd be damned if she gave the sadist in him the pleasure of watching her suffer. So what if her eyes were burning as fiercely as her ass? She was going to hold onto the goddamn tears until she drowned in them if needs be. “Yes, Sir,” she bit out.

  “Good girl.” He leaned back, assessing her with unspoken curiosity.

  She managed to stay silent for a few minutes, breathing through her nose and biting the tip of her tongue. Her pain receptors were alive, waving white flags of surrender in a bid to gain his attention, but Finn...Finn was a rock wall, sticking to his resolve to punish her. If this was how he planned to castigate her for cutting, she would never pick up a knife again. She'd eat with her bare hands, promise anything he wanted, to stop the godawful fire eating her alive.

  She was giving sincere thought to leaping across the seat and using her hands to beat him until he passed out, then taking the ginger root out and throwing it as far and as hard as she could out of the window. Ginger root was going on her hard limit list, permanently.

  Figging and her were done. Over. No apologies and no second chances.

  “Arthur can't hear you, little dove. If you want to cry, it's just us in here.”

  Sweat dotted her hairline, between her breasts, down her back. The damn stuff was springing up everywhere, and Ava was starting to feel damp and edgy. Ignoring Finn, she turned her head to the window and, risking Arthur's wrath, pressed her sticky forehead to the cool glass with a barely audible moan. She would just...focus on the world flashing by, and she would not give him the satisfaction of crying.

  They were a long way away from the house now. The driver was obviously pushing the truck for speed to make up the time lost, which by her estimation was ten minutes, tops. The speed they were travelling at seemed excessive for a little tardiness, but who was she to comment on it? Empty fields flew past in a green blur, fences turning into white streaks as her eyes struggled to keep up with the scenery.

  Aw, look at you, trying not to cry. Bet you want to give in now, don't you? The burn from the blade is so much sweeter than this. It doesn't nag at you like this pain. This is consuming you in all. The. Wrong. Ways. I can give you the proper burn, dirty whore. The burn that lifts you up and away from y
our shitty life instead of grounding you into it. They can't replicate what you really want, can they? They can't deceive you into believing this is the high you crave.

  But me? Ask and you shall receive.

  Ava rocked her forehead from side to side over the glass. Her breath fogged the tinted surface as she panted. She couldn't safe word. Physically could not bring herself to say red or yellow. Because if she did, if she begged him to put an end to it, she'd only look for another avenue to soothe the itch surging under her skin.

  It all came back to cutting. To hurting herself. To her father.

  God, she was on her way to catch a plane to see a shrink. These thoughts weren't helping her evade the fire engulfing her rear passage, and they sure as hell weren't going to do anything but attract the shrink's attention.

  Her eyelashes were wet when she blinked. Too late, she realized her body was in control of itself now, wresting bodily functions from her grasp. Tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping onto the door. Her pussy was swollen, soaking her jeans in an embarrassing display. Her ass was a raging inferno, the muscles squeezing around the ginger root and drawing the aggravating juices deeper.

  Through her misery, she noticed the truck slowing, turning right off the drive down another narrow track. Rougher than the main road, the truck rumbled along, jostling her in her comfy seat and rapping her head against the window.

  “Ava, look at me.”

  Damn him. She couldn't wipe her face without him seeing, and if she looked at him, he'd know he'd won. What did it matter? Master Finnegan always won. He wrote the rules, handed out judgements and reprimands accordingly. She'd understood the rules, accepted them, before coming here. She wasn't going to disappoint him after all they'd been through.

  She flinched as the track took them through the small woodland she remembered from her arrival. A huge shadowy canopy dimming the truck's interior. Finn's private airfield, hangar, and plane were on the other side of the trees. A few more minutes and they'd board the ridiculous excuse for an aircraft, lift off into the skies toward a different kind of hell, and then her present predicament would be over.

  There'll always going to be a predicament. One rolling into another and onto the next. And the next. You're holding on for him, dirty whore. Holding on for him and holding onto him, but he'll let you down. The only person you can depend on is yourself, and you'll fail at that. Just call it quits, bitch. Admit you're no good for anyone or anything and just...die.

  It would be easy to do just that. Lie down, close her eyes, and feel her heartbeat pump from her veins until there was nothing left. When her bare toes were dangling over the edge of her personal abyss, that pit of despair beckoning her into oblivion, she was the only one keeping herself from falling.

  Some days, she just wanted to plummet.

  An arm slipped around her waist like a steel cable, dragging her away from the window and onto a broad lap. Whines erupted from her throat, her nose. Finn kept her pinned on his knees without expending a jot of energy. The more she struggled, the tighter he held her until the fight evaporated from inside her and left her compliant.

  “You're not a bad girl, Ava. Far from it. The last few days, you've shown everyone how strong you are, how stubborn and loyal you are when you sink your teeth into something. You fight for what you believe in even if the possibilities are stacked against you. Christ, you adopted a calf and moved her into the goddamn house.”

  Despite the pain mummifying her body, there was a sad laugh behind the sobs in her chest. “I guess that's frowned on, Sir.”

  “It is when she shits all over my office and turns my paperwork into papier mache. I'm not angry with you, little dove. It probably seems like that, considering your situation, but I would never punish you in anger. Do you understand why you are being punished?”

  “Because I act without thinking.” Her tone was higher than usual, and taut.

  Finn ran his hand up her thigh. “Precisely, little dove. Ordinarily, it wouldn't be a problem. People make mistakes and do things without engaging their brains all the time. But you...I need you to engage that clever brain, Ava. You have to think through what you do, because if there's ever a point where you find yourself with a knife in your hand, I need to be sure you think before you act. I have to know you won't make the biggest mistake of your life by reacting blindly.”

  Her head dropped forward, her hair falling over her face. Missing her Stetson should have been the least of her concerns, but she did, keenly. Without it, she felt like a greenhorn—a nicer word for rookie—and nothing like the woman she'd been in the barn, telling her dominant lover and boss to keep pulling or she would.

  She hated this feeling of chastisement, and worse, she despised how she understood Finn's reasoning.

  The truck barely slowed before Arthur slammed on the brakes. Finn's arm tightened around her waist and stopped her from ending up flattened against the dividing partition like some demented cartoon character, his voice raining down curses. “We really need to have some choice words about his fucking driving.”

  Ava heard the driver's side door open and close. In the seconds before Arthur wrenched open Finn's door, she begged, “Please, Sir, take it out. I've learned my lesson, I promise.”

  “Ten more minutes,” he murmured, and pressed his lips to her nape. When the door opened, he swung her out into the fresh air, following her from the vehicle before she had chance to stand straight. His arm wrapped around her back, guiding her as she staggered and stumbled across close-cropped grass toward a small tarmac runway and the insane excuse for a plane waiting for them.

  Arthur overtook them, their bags in hand. His long stride was hurried, and by the time her beleaguered body reached the steps to the aircraft, he'd already stashed their luggage and was standing to attention at the bottom step. “We're ready to fly as soon as you're seated, Mr. McLeod. As per your request, there will be no cabin assistance for this flight.”

  “Thank you, Arthur. Please don't slam on the brakes when we get to the airport,” Finn answered pointedly. “The wheels on this piece of equipment are astronomically expensive. I'd like to keep them intact for the trip home.”

  Ava swore the man's mouth quirked in something resembling a smile. “My apologies, sir. The vehicle has just had its monthly tune-up and the brakes are proving to be quite sharp. I'll make sure to amend that before your return.”

  “Appreciated. Can you manage the steps, Ava?”

  Hunched over, the stairs transformed from six small obstacles into one huge mountain. Her entire lower body felt inflamed and raw. She reached out and grabbed the thin railing running up the side, keening under her breath. The tears drying on her cheeks in the breeze were quickly being replaced by fresh ones.

  “Is the lady fit to travel, Finn?” Arthur muttered in concern. He'd dropped his voice and the formalities, she noted grimly, when he thought she couldn't hear him.

  “Just get us in the air, Arthur. She'll be perfectly fine once we're off the ground.” Finn's hand pressed against her back, urging her quietly up the steps.

  “Yes, sir. As soon as you're ready.”

  There were rivulets of sweat dripping off her by the time she almost crawled into the plane. She was moments away from clawing at her ass through her jeans, prepared to shred the fabric if needed. She was trembling, the discomfort so acute, it was welded into her senses.

  Finn picked her up and carried her the remaining few feet to their seats. Eight seats in total, two on either side of a small table on opposite sides of the plane. He set her down into the window seat, then dropped into the one next to her and snapped the belt across her waist before securing his own.

  She welcomed the grip of his hand, squeezing it as tightly as she could. Closing her eyes, she heard the mechanical whine of the steps lifting and sealing shut, locking them into the craft. Counting down the minutes, she listened to Arthur's footsteps disappearing into the cockpit, then the door clicking shut, giving them privacy.

  Beneath th
em, the plane rumbled to life.

  Chapter 11

  Finn

  He didn't leave her suffering for long.

  As the plane gained altitude and settled in for the flight to Ronald Reagan National Airport, Finn checked his emails on his phone and let her squirm for just a few minutes. He replied to a couple of enquiries about cattle for sale, sent one to the detective in charge of the Thomas investigation, then gave his complete attention to his suffering sub.

  The sadist in him was thrilled with the results of the figging. Ava's face was blotchy with tears, her cheeks wet. She was teary, snotty, and remained one of the bravest women he was proud to know. He loved her for many reasons, but her stoicism was one of the biggest. She was barely holding on to the remnants of her composure, yet she refused to break those last few inches.

  He reached into his jacket and pulled out another clean handkerchief. Opening it over his spread palm, he lifted it to her face and ordered, “Blow.” He nodded once in approval as she obeyed, meek as a reprimanded child, and continued to wipe up the evidence of her misery. “When the red light above your head turns to green, you can unfasten your safety belt and undress, Ava. To the skin. Present yourself over the table,” he drummed his fingers on the cherry wood top, “and we'll get this finished and forgiven.”

  Her eyes darted up to the pair of thumb-sized lights above them. They gleamed red, indicating Finn and Ava needed to remain seated and in their safety belts. She was fisting and releasing her hands in agitation as she stared at the lights. The instant they flicked to green, she moved into action, discarding her seatbelt and clambering over the top of Finn before he could move out of her way.