Daddies of the Castle: A Masters of the Castle Anthology by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blushing Books Publications
Published: 2019-10-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

Ella

I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be gentle. Something about his soothing voice belied the fact that he was trying to lull me into a false sense of security. My cane marks from earlier already tingled and he hadn’t even started my latest punishment.

But the way he caressed my butt with the hairbrush elicited tingles across the surface of my skin that filled me with desire. Talk about playing dirty!

When he lifted the hairbrush from my ass, I flinched. He hadn’t even done anything yet, and I was already on edge and desperate to find out how bad this punishment was going to be. Since it was his first time giving my butt a thorough work-out, I needed to know what kind of a spanker he was. Would he be gentle? Firm? Sadistic? Stoic? I had to know!

The brush landed flat on my sit-spot. It was hard, but not as heavy as a paddle. The wood was unyielding and I guessed it had left a rectangular mark on my skin already. The buzzy tingle blazed fiercely where it landed, but the pain faded away quite quickly.

I could handle this.

Or so I thought.

Unexpectedly, he brought down the brush on my defenseless ass at a rapid pace, and I squeaked as I tried to adjust to the quick-fire oblong explosions of pain. My legs kicked. My head shook, as if I could get the burn to tumble out of my hair like fallen leaves or something. I tried to stay in position but my spine arched and hips bucked of their own accord.

“Be still, young lady, and take your punishment,” he said in a stern voice.

“S-sorry s-s-sir; it hurts-s-s!” I stuttered because the brush kept making me gasp while I tried to speak.

He kept up the pace, moving the brush all over my unprotected ass, and I clawed at the area rug as I worked hard not to evade my punishment.

Eventually, I released a full breath I hadn’t known I was holding, and my accompanying heartfelt wail echoed around the room.

“That’s it. Let it out,” he coaxed, and his voice was suddenly softer than before.

It didn’t stop his hand swatting me constantly with the evil hairbrush. My wails turned into tears as I cracked and began to sob. The built-up emotions poured out of me like a burst dam and it felt so fucking good to let it all out, as loud as I liked, with no shame about crying or being in this position because we both knew how this went.

He was perfect. And completely off-limits. I couldn’t take him home, and I couldn’t see this lasting very long beyond our weekend connection. I couldn’t fall for this incredibly suave, stern man who quoted Shakespeare as well as I could. I cried for what we might have had, if only things were a trillion times less complicated.

And I cried for my own stupidity, in getting too attached, then appraising him as dating material and freaking out when he’d all but asked me on a slightly eccentric date.

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