I watched Tom warily as he turned his chosen paddle over in his hands. His face had taken on that dark mask again and this time I knew what it was about. A frisson of excitement ran through me. He was unpredictable in this mood and that brought an edge to this spanking we hadn’t had before. I craved that. I wanted to feel his darkness wrap itself around me and sink into my mind and body.
‘Come here Gemma.’ So controlled and quietly spoken. I shivered and did as he asked. I slid off the desk and walked over to the pommel horse in the centre of the room. Surely it was too tall for me?
He laid the paddle down on the bench then turned his full attention to me. ‘I’ve changed my mind, I am going to cane you and I am going to hurt you Gemma, I mean, really hurt you. I need to know you won’t just keep taking it, I need to know you aren’t too damn stubborn to use your safe word if I go too far or it’s too much.’
I stared at him with owl eyes again. My insides were crawling with excitement and dread in equal measure. ‘I’ll tell you, I promise.’ My voice came out barely above a whisper.
He grabbed me by the back of the neck and pulled me against him. He took my mouth with his and plundered it, sucking me into him, climbing inside my mind, I could feel him taking all of me and I opened up to him and allowed him in. He growled against my mouth.
‘Fuck Gemma, be damned sure you want this baby, I won’t hold back, I can’t hold back any more.’ He was at war with his own desire.
‘I want this Tom, I need it. Don’t hold back baby, I can take it, I promise I will use my safe word if I can’t.’ I stroked his face and held my breath.
He nodded once, ‘Get undressed.’ He said and stood back to watch as I slid the dress off my shoulders and down my body. I stepped out of it and laid it on the bench. I unhooked my bra and slid it down my arms, removing it, placing it on top of the dress. His eyes raked my body as each part was revealed to him. I hooked my fingers into the waistband of my panties and slid them down my legs allowing them to drop to the floor. I stepped out of them and bent to pick them up. He reached out and curved my bottom into his hand and smoothed the skin with his thumb. I paused, waiting to see if he spoke.
He removed his hand and I stood and placed my panties with the rest of the clothes.
‘Leave the shoes on and turn around to face the horse.’ He instructed quietly.
I did as I was told and he lifted me and placed my torso over the centre of the horse, My feet barely touched the floor and I stood on tiptoe. I felt him slide a heavy bracelet around first one ankle then the other. He came around to the front and attached cuffs to my wrists. He gripped my hair and lifted my head up to look at him.
‘I want to hear the pain Gemma.’ With that, he turned away from me.
Fuck he was in a dark place. His eyes were cold, black and empty of any of my Tom. I felt my first jolt of fear since we had started this. A second wave of fear hit when I saw him walk to the cane wall at the end of the room. He took a long time to select the one he wanted. He weighted it in his hand, he whipped it through the air to test it’s resistance and then he turned around. He was really going through with this. I started to tremble.
I couldn’t watch, I dropped my head down, closed my eyes and waited, my breathing was coming in shallow gasps, I had never been so fearful of a first stroke from a cane.
I had no idea if he wanted me to count, I had no idea how many strokes he would deliver. All I knew was he wanted to hear my pain.
When the first stroke landed it came so hard and fast across the centre of my cheeks I screamed with shock and then screamed again as the pain shot across my bottom exploding in a rush of searing heat.
‘Not loud enough Gemma. You can do better than that.’ He said as the second stroke landed immediately underneath the first. I howled and bucked, I was so restricted in this position I had nowhere to go.
The third stroke landed across the sit spot and I squealed so loud I hurt my own ears.
He grunted behind me, ‘That’s better.’ he muttered and delivered the fourth, fifth and sixth in an equally measured pace. Each one landing precisely above the last, each one carving it’s image into my soft flesh, biting me, whipping my mind as my body absorbed the pain and shock. I was openly crying, great big tears ran down my face. I was in a world of agony, the pain was so intense I thought he must have cut me.
Then the seventh stroke landed across the top of my thighs and the world went black for a moment as a never before known level of pain exploded across my thighs. I let out an ear piercing scream that went on for the longest moment. My mind went blank and I heard my own voice pleading and sobbing. ‘Please Tom, slow down, please… wait… let me…’
‘Save it Gemma, I only want to hear the pain or your safe word.’
The eighth stroke landed midway between my thighs and the middle of my bottom shortly followed by the ninth and tenth strokes one above one below. A band of red hot, searing pain shot across my cheeks and I screamed at the top of my voice. A constant unending scream that bounced off the walls and ricocheted through my mind.
The eleventh when it finally landed was softer and less cutting, but still elicited a squeal of pain from me and more tears. Floods of them.
The twelfth stroke creased my sit spot directly under the first stroke there. I physically lifted in shock at the pain. I tried to escape my binds, I was crying hysterically and howling.
And then without warning, I was being released from the cuffs and lifted down of that horrible horse.
Tom wrapped me in his arms and carried me over to a leather sofa.
He held me for the longest time, soothing me, stroking my hair, my back, my face. Everywhere he could touch, he stroked and poured soothing nonsense words over my shocked and traumatised mind. I sobbed my heart out, he handed me tissues, he wiped my face, he kissed me gently, I searched his eyes and he was my Tom once more and I relaxed inside. The fear and pain receded rapidly to be replaced by a bone deep throbbing. It settled in to my bottom and thighs like an old friend and I wriggled slightly on his lap. He reached behind him and opened a jar of cold cream.
‘Lie over my knee baby, let me apply the cream for you.’ His voice was so tender I could feel the tears welling up again.
I crawled over his lap and relaxed as his fingers worked the wonderful cold cream into my burning skin. I could smell the aloe as he worked it slowly and deeply covering every millimeter of branded skin.
Finally the throbbing settled into a more recognisable dull ache and I began to feel the beneficial side effects as they built alongside the heat and the insistent throb. I sat up in his lap and pulled his head down for a kiss.
It would be a good hour before we made our way back to the party but we both knew we had changed the shape of everything once again.