Read Online With This Collar by Sierra Cartwright - Free Book Online

way you made me come in the sunroom… What we did… It wasn’t like the scene we just watched. You did what I wanted.”
    “You’re a quick study,” he said with a smile. It lit his eyes and melted her resolve.
    This man got to her on so many levels, physical and emotional.
    “And you’re right. I watched every one of your reactions. As I was telling you earlier, Lindsey and Nate have been together for years. She’s a masochist, and Nate makes sure she gets what she needs without things getting out of hand. Sometimes she provokes him, trying to goad him into giving her more. She’s a woman who truly enjoys pain. She gets off on it.”
    Julia tried to take it all in.
    “When she loses control, he gives her a time out.”
    “Like you do with a child?”
    “Do you think a spanking would work with Lindsey?”
    “I suppose not.” She shook her head. You don’t give more pain to someone who likes it.
    “You need to know what to expect from your punishment.”
    She finished her juice in a single drink.
    “Since it’s your first time, we’ll start with a simple over-the-knee spanking. I think a hand is the most intimate way of punishing a sub. I can feel how you respond. The heat of your skin keeps us connected. I can get a sense of how much pressure you need.”
    Julia said nothing. Her mouth felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton wool.
    “But I also want to introduce you to my tawse. We’ll do that over a simple punishment horse.”
    A server passed. Marcus took her empty glass from her nerveless fingers and placed it on the tray.
    “I have no idea what a tawse is.”
    “It’s one of the most perfect things for beating a sub.” He brushed back his blazer. A long leather implement was attached to his belt loop.
    She went still. She’d grown up in the cultured east, and so being in the Wild West still shocked her at times. That a man went out in public with that thing hanging from his side, like a cowboy might have had a six-shooter strapped to his thigh a hundred years ago, made her shiver.
    Marcus unclipped the leather strand and offered it to her.
    In horrid fascination, she stared for a moment. The thing was about a foot long. The handle was also leather, and the outside was stitched with a lighter shade of thread. Just below the handle she saw a design, a brand of sorts. About a third of the way down, the leather forked into two wicked-looking strands.
    “It won’t bite.”
    She looked at him, trying to decide whether or not he was serious.
    “Until later,” he added.
    “You’re not reassuring me.”
    “Get acquainted with it.
    She finally accepted it. The tawse weighed more than she’d expected and the brown leather felt supple.
    “Smack it on your palm, on the outside of your leg. Get a feel for it.”
    She flicked her wrist, and he shook his head.
    “With a tawse, you keep your wrist straight. It’s a whole different action than wielding a flogger or whip. Flicking your wrist allows the leather to wrap, perhaps catching flesh where it’s not intended, and I don’t want to catch you with the flat part of the blade.”
    “Does that matter?”
    “I believe pain should always be deliberately inflicted. I want my stroke to land with precision. Try it again.”
    She kept her wrist locked and smacked her calf. It stung, but in a different way. “I see the difference.”
    “We’re going to the end of the hall,” he told her, holding out his hand for the tawse.
    Knowing that the leather would eventually connect with her ass was sobering.
    “It’s the last door on the right. Whenever you’re ready.”
    He held out his hand, indicating that she should go first.
    She thought of the man she’d seen earlier, the one being leashed. At this point, she almost thought that would be easier. Having someone guide you surely had to be easier than this.
    She was overly aware of him walking behind her. His footfalls sounded firm and menacing, and a bit thrilling.
    Once inside the room, he shut the