Read Online Recovery (Doctor Dom Volume 5) (A BDSM & Medical Play Novella) by Tara Crescent - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tara Crescent
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paddle. Count them out.”
He moved the leather paddle towards me, and I winced. Next time, I would keep my tongue under control. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, and he slid the paddle between my parted lips. “Keep it there.”
I didn’t point out that I could hardly count if I had a paddle in my mouth. Clearly, Patrick could manage to count to twenty by himself, he just wanted me to slur and moan the words around the paddle as extra humiliation.
“Ready, baby?” he asked me, and I nodded.
“This is very nice,” he said, running a finger at the edge of my panty-line, where fabric met ass. “Let’s get it off.”
I parted my legs obligingly as he pushed the panties down to my knees. I gulped. The whole thing – being half-clothed, bent over a kitchen table so that Patrick could spank me with a paddle – it was all incredibly arousing. I could smell myself in the air, and I smelled like lust.
Thwack. His hand came down on my ass, painfully hard. “One,” I whimpered through the paddle as my body rocked forward on the table from the force of his spank. The next two blows came quickly after, one on each cheek, hard and painful. I hissed and clenched my fists, and gritted out the count.
“Ah, poor baby,” he said. His hands stroked the heated flesh, soothing it gently. “Too hard?” I shook my head silently. “Good,” he said in response, and quickly hit me four times in a row. My teeth bit down on the paddle as I struggled to process the pain. It had been weeks since I’d been spanked, and my tolerance had clearly decreased.
His palms soothed my aching cheeks again. “Perhaps you will ask your crew to be more careful of my house?” he suggested. I rolled my eyes at that, but my body relaxed as he stroked me gently, pausing so I would recover before laying the final three spanks on my ass.
“Okay?” he asked me, and I nodded again, and the three strokes came stinging down on my aching butt. I groaned and counted them out.
I closed my eyes as his hands once again stroked my cheeks. “Can you take the paddle now, or do you want to wait?” he asked me. He bent forward to kiss each ass cheek, and I whimpered as I felt his mouth on the hot, throbbing flesh.
“Can I get a drink of water?” I asked him.
“Of course, sweetie,” he said instantly, and walked to the refrigerator, handing me a bottle of water.
I took a swig. My eyes were glistening with tears that I hadn’t realized I shed. His fingers reached out and brushed them away, and I leaned against his shoulder as I drank, taking comfort in the strength of his body. “You feel good,” I whispered. He kissed me softly. “I’m sorry about the mess,” I added.
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t really care about the mess right now, baby,” he said. He grinned. “It’s just a thinly-veiled excuse to spank you.”
I smiled. “You need an excuse?” I asked him.
“Do you really want to get more strokes added on?” he asked me, but I could hear the thread of humour in his voice. I leaned against him and took another sip of water, then I put down the bottle, and kissed him on his cheek, nuzzling like a kitten against his neck.
“I’m ready,” I said.
He nodded. “Bend over the table again,” he ordered.
This time, the strokes weren’t only concentrated on my ass. The paddle made stinging contact with the crease where ass met thigh. With my back of my upper thighs. With my already tender ass. He hadn’t asked me to count, and I just clenched my fists and held on.
There was something about the way the paddle fell against my ass. Each stroke resonated in my pussy. My ass was aflame, and I felt corresponding heat in my entire body. Arousal shimmered through me.
The ten strokes had come to an end; I hadn’t noticed. “Fuck me,” I said, when I realized he was done. “Please.”
I didn’t need to ask. Hi s cock nudged the entrance to my pussy, and I parted my legs and pushed back against him, ignoring the stinging pain in
He moved the leather paddle towards me, and I winced. Next time, I would keep my tongue under control. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, and he slid the paddle between my parted lips. “Keep it there.”
I didn’t point out that I could hardly count if I had a paddle in my mouth. Clearly, Patrick could manage to count to twenty by himself, he just wanted me to slur and moan the words around the paddle as extra humiliation.
“Ready, baby?” he asked me, and I nodded.
“This is very nice,” he said, running a finger at the edge of my panty-line, where fabric met ass. “Let’s get it off.”
I parted my legs obligingly as he pushed the panties down to my knees. I gulped. The whole thing – being half-clothed, bent over a kitchen table so that Patrick could spank me with a paddle – it was all incredibly arousing. I could smell myself in the air, and I smelled like lust.
Thwack. His hand came down on my ass, painfully hard. “One,” I whimpered through the paddle as my body rocked forward on the table from the force of his spank. The next two blows came quickly after, one on each cheek, hard and painful. I hissed and clenched my fists, and gritted out the count.
“Ah, poor baby,” he said. His hands stroked the heated flesh, soothing it gently. “Too hard?” I shook my head silently. “Good,” he said in response, and quickly hit me four times in a row. My teeth bit down on the paddle as I struggled to process the pain. It had been weeks since I’d been spanked, and my tolerance had clearly decreased.
His palms soothed my aching cheeks again. “Perhaps you will ask your crew to be more careful of my house?” he suggested. I rolled my eyes at that, but my body relaxed as he stroked me gently, pausing so I would recover before laying the final three spanks on my ass.
“Okay?” he asked me, and I nodded again, and the three strokes came stinging down on my aching butt. I groaned and counted them out.
I closed my eyes as his hands once again stroked my cheeks. “Can you take the paddle now, or do you want to wait?” he asked me. He bent forward to kiss each ass cheek, and I whimpered as I felt his mouth on the hot, throbbing flesh.
“Can I get a drink of water?” I asked him.
“Of course, sweetie,” he said instantly, and walked to the refrigerator, handing me a bottle of water.
I took a swig. My eyes were glistening with tears that I hadn’t realized I shed. His fingers reached out and brushed them away, and I leaned against his shoulder as I drank, taking comfort in the strength of his body. “You feel good,” I whispered. He kissed me softly. “I’m sorry about the mess,” I added.
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t really care about the mess right now, baby,” he said. He grinned. “It’s just a thinly-veiled excuse to spank you.”
I smiled. “You need an excuse?” I asked him.
“Do you really want to get more strokes added on?” he asked me, but I could hear the thread of humour in his voice. I leaned against him and took another sip of water, then I put down the bottle, and kissed him on his cheek, nuzzling like a kitten against his neck.
“I’m ready,” I said.
He nodded. “Bend over the table again,” he ordered.
This time, the strokes weren’t only concentrated on my ass. The paddle made stinging contact with the crease where ass met thigh. With my back of my upper thighs. With my already tender ass. He hadn’t asked me to count, and I just clenched my fists and held on.
There was something about the way the paddle fell against my ass. Each stroke resonated in my pussy. My ass was aflame, and I felt corresponding heat in my entire body. Arousal shimmered through me.
The ten strokes had come to an end; I hadn’t noticed. “Fuck me,” I said, when I realized he was done. “Please.”
I didn’t need to ask. Hi s cock nudged the entrance to my pussy, and I parted my legs and pushed back against him, ignoring the stinging pain in
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