The Dom with the Dragon Tattoo (Masters of Submission #5)(35)
“Tyler, Tyler, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” Her voice shook with emotion. “Can we discuss this?” She tried to appeal to the compassionate part of his personality, but right at this moment he didn’t have one.
His uncompromising answer echoed off the walls of the bedroom. “Discuss? Fucking discuss? You didn’t think we needed a discussion when you f*cked off in the middle of the night without a word, did you?”
She twisted her head as best she could to look at him, but her vision was blurred because tears filled her eyes. “No, I didn’t, and I’m so, so sorry, Tyler, but I thought it was for the best.”
“For the best?” he cruelly mimicked her words, mocking her, incredulity masking his beautiful face. “Best for me, or best for you?”
“I left because I wanted what was best for you. I left because I can’t give you what you need—children.” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, unable to bear the pain etched on his face.
“I’ll decide what’s best for me, not you. Don’t dare presume you know your Master’s mind.” Still clearly pissed at her, he leaned over and grabbed at the neckline of her blouse, dragging it over her shoulders and down her back until her arms lay trapped behind her, the tightness of the material prohibiting any movement. She squirmed helplessly on her stomach, petrified of what he might to do to her but more petrified that he would leave and never return.
“I’ll make myself clear. I am not in any way, shape, or form like your previous boyfriend Mitch. How dare you disrespect your Master by comparing me to some selfish prick who wouldn’t step up to the plate when the going got tough?” He spat the words out, sending a chill running through her. Why hadn’t she confided in him? Why hadn’t she trusted him? She’d acted like an idiot, and fully deserved his wrath.
He tossed a table tennis paddle onto the mattress beside her. “Hotel gaming rooms have their uses. I have a shitload of correctional toys back home in Houston, but Brazilian customs officials, being what they are, may have become curious as to why I’m traveling with handcuffs and a selection of canes.
“So, sub, let the punishment fit the crime.” He took the paddle from the bed and whacked it ominously and rhythmically against the palm of his other hand, several times.
Thud. Thud. Thud. The scary noise left her in doubt as to what would happen next.
“Now let me see, how many times would be appropriate? Five? Ten? Fifteen?”
“Sir, I’m sorry. I should have told you everything. I’ve f*cked up big-time, and it’s all my fault, but if you’ve read my letter—”
“Enough, of course I’ve read your letter, but you still deserve to be punished. It’s too late for sorry. Sorry just doesn’t cut it anymore. You’ve been gone exactly twenty-one days. I therefore think that twenty-one strokes of the paddle against your peachy butt are in order.”
When the pimply rubber surface first contacted her bare ass, she felt the stinging pain a millisecond or two before hearing the sickening noise. Fuck, it hurt, but she deserved it, and then some. It hit dead center, and with such power it forced her body deep into the mattress. “Do you have any idea what it’s like”—another stinging smack connected with her ass, making her bite her bottom lip—“having to constantly lie for you?”
“I’m so sorry, sir.”
“My employees at Cerberus think you’ve gone to Washington to look after your sick mother. That’s what I told them.” Another searing strike connected with her backside, each one hurting twice as much as the last. Every time he spoke, he disciplined her further. It was strange, but the almost unbearable pain only served to calm her emotions. Tyler now knew everything. She wasn’t hiding anything from him now, and that empowered her with a wonderful sense of relief.
“Please, Master, I know I deserve it, but it hurts so much.” She buried her face deep in the duvet, taking a mouthful of bedding in order to stop herself from crying out.
“Oh,” he mocked. “They were all so impressed with your compassionate attitude, especially your colleagues Rob and Claire. Rebecca’s such a caring woman, traveling all that way to look after her ailing momma.” His voice dripped concentrated sarcasm. “Of course, you and I know differently, don’t we? Believe me when I say you will never disrespect your Master in such a way again.”
Again? Does that mean he wants me back? Does that mean he still wants to marry me?
She dared not think too deeply, for fear of being disappointed. Tyler wasn’t finished with her yet. Harder and harder blows continued to assault her naked butt cheeks, making her eyes water from the pain. She wouldn’t be able to sit down for a month after this, but it would all be worth it if Tyler wanted her back.
“Master.”
“Silence. Use only your safe word, otherwise shut up and take your punishment like a good girl.” He paused briefly then bitterly announced, “One more, this one will hurt the most.” It did. It hurt as much as all the others added together. “Twenty-one. Let that be a lesson to you. You are never out of my reach.”
Rebecca buried her head in the duvet, trying yet failing to stifle her sobs. She heard Tyler breathing heavily from his exertion, and when he angrily hurled the paddle away, it clattered noisily to the floor. It all felt so surreal, like she was dreaming. The pool cast its eerie blue flickering light around the room, making shadows on the walls and ceiling, and a deafening silence hung in the air as they struggled to catch their breath.