have. And if you ever do something this risky with anyone other than me, I’ll bust a paddle across your ass.”
“I don’t know a thing about you.”
“You know the important things.”
“I know you like to pull hair and have a fruit fetish.” There was that peevishness again.
Sam had to work at hiding his smile. He glanced in the rearview to make sure there were no cars behind him. The road was dark as far as he could see in either direction. He hit the blinker and pulled over onto the gravel side of the road.
“ Is this where you live?” Hannah asked, peering out the surrounding cattle pasture. “I don’t see any houses.”
“ That’s because there aren’t any.” He put the car in park and got out. Strolling around to her side, he opened up the back and dug her jeans out of his bag. Folding them twice, he dropped them on the gravel right outside her door.
“What are you doing?” she asked nervously when he opened her car door as wide as it would go and leaned in to unbuckle her.
“Watch your feet.” He took her arm and placed his hand on top of her head to protect her from accidentally bumping it as he helped her out. “Stand on your pants.”
“Why?” She locked her legs, resisting when he turned her, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from tucking her up under his arm or pinning her bent across his hip. “No, wait! Sir, please!”
His shirt offered nothing in the way of padding, but he tucked it up under her squirming hands, leaving her pale bottom completely exposed and softly illuminated in the yellow of the car’s courtesy light. He didn’t leave her waiting; that glimpse of peevish temper had already melted away, leaving her both looking and sounding scared. Sam didn’t want her scared of him. He wanted her respectful, comfortable, maybe now and then even a little bit wary, particularly when—like now—he was in a playful mood. Playful, however, did not mean he was willing to put up with attitude. So, he gave her a little taste of what she—knowingly or not—had been asking for; he spanked her.
Ask any other s ub at the Sanctuary, and they would cheerfully pronounce that what he gave Hannah right then and there was little more than love taps. He barely put a rosy hue on her pretty little bottom cheeks; to listen to Hannah, one would think he’d skinned her alive. He half expected her to come up off his hip fighting mad, either because she really was outraged or (in the case of some submissives) because she wanted him to finish the job and do it right. Hannah came up like a smacked puppy, bouncing a cute little dance meant to waggle out some of the sting and only folding herself into his arms and burrowing against his chest because he was bigger and stronger and that’s where he pulled her.
“You’re okay,” he mused, holding her for as long as she seemed to need and letting go only when she sniffled and finally pulled away. He tucked her back into the car, buckled her in again and the rest of the ride was made in near total silence. It wasn’t until he was pulling into the driveway of the rental house he shared with five other Doms (each of whom had poured every penny he owned into the Castle project) that she sniffled and said, “He’s not going to give you the permits.”
Sam didn’t need to ask who she meant. “I know.”
He took the keys out of the ignition and was about to get out when, very softly, she said, “Master Sam, can I ask you something?”
One hand on the handle, he turned back to look at her and waited.
“Was that a hard spanking? The one you gave me?”
As if there could any doubt as to what she’d meant.
He tried not to smile, wanting to take her question with all the seriousness she seemed to think it required. “Not even close.”
He started to get out, but she stopped him again. “Sir?”
Again, h e paused.
She squirmed in her seat, grinding her bottom against the cushion, no doubt feeling the faint sting and heat he’d put there
“I don’t know a thing about you.”
“You know the important things.”
“I know you like to pull hair and have a fruit fetish.” There was that peevishness again.
Sam had to work at hiding his smile. He glanced in the rearview to make sure there were no cars behind him. The road was dark as far as he could see in either direction. He hit the blinker and pulled over onto the gravel side of the road.
“ Is this where you live?” Hannah asked, peering out the surrounding cattle pasture. “I don’t see any houses.”
“ That’s because there aren’t any.” He put the car in park and got out. Strolling around to her side, he opened up the back and dug her jeans out of his bag. Folding them twice, he dropped them on the gravel right outside her door.
“What are you doing?” she asked nervously when he opened her car door as wide as it would go and leaned in to unbuckle her.
“Watch your feet.” He took her arm and placed his hand on top of her head to protect her from accidentally bumping it as he helped her out. “Stand on your pants.”
“Why?” She locked her legs, resisting when he turned her, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from tucking her up under his arm or pinning her bent across his hip. “No, wait! Sir, please!”
His shirt offered nothing in the way of padding, but he tucked it up under her squirming hands, leaving her pale bottom completely exposed and softly illuminated in the yellow of the car’s courtesy light. He didn’t leave her waiting; that glimpse of peevish temper had already melted away, leaving her both looking and sounding scared. Sam didn’t want her scared of him. He wanted her respectful, comfortable, maybe now and then even a little bit wary, particularly when—like now—he was in a playful mood. Playful, however, did not mean he was willing to put up with attitude. So, he gave her a little taste of what she—knowingly or not—had been asking for; he spanked her.
Ask any other s ub at the Sanctuary, and they would cheerfully pronounce that what he gave Hannah right then and there was little more than love taps. He barely put a rosy hue on her pretty little bottom cheeks; to listen to Hannah, one would think he’d skinned her alive. He half expected her to come up off his hip fighting mad, either because she really was outraged or (in the case of some submissives) because she wanted him to finish the job and do it right. Hannah came up like a smacked puppy, bouncing a cute little dance meant to waggle out some of the sting and only folding herself into his arms and burrowing against his chest because he was bigger and stronger and that’s where he pulled her.
“You’re okay,” he mused, holding her for as long as she seemed to need and letting go only when she sniffled and finally pulled away. He tucked her back into the car, buckled her in again and the rest of the ride was made in near total silence. It wasn’t until he was pulling into the driveway of the rental house he shared with five other Doms (each of whom had poured every penny he owned into the Castle project) that she sniffled and said, “He’s not going to give you the permits.”
Sam didn’t need to ask who she meant. “I know.”
He took the keys out of the ignition and was about to get out when, very softly, she said, “Master Sam, can I ask you something?”
One hand on the handle, he turned back to look at her and waited.
“Was that a hard spanking? The one you gave me?”
As if there could any doubt as to what she’d meant.
He tried not to smile, wanting to take her question with all the seriousness she seemed to think it required. “Not even close.”
He started to get out, but she stopped him again. “Sir?”
Again, h e paused.
She squirmed in her seat, grinding her bottom against the cushion, no doubt feeling the faint sting and heat he’d put there
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