Tink’s Punishment
10
H oly fucking fuckazoids!
She had no way out of the room, so she scooted down and pretended to fix her shoelace. There was a crack between the bar and the wall where she watched John pull his pants up and put a robe around her best friend. He led Jared to the door and kissed him lightly on the mouth.
“Thank you for a wonderful gift, Achilles. I hope I’ll see you next weekend at Fetish night.”
“You will,” Jared murmured, and left.
Thank god he didn’t see her. Brynne was stunned and hot all over. Her mind was racing. Had he done that before? Did they know each other well? Could she ever tell him she’d witnessed that? She had to digest the whole thing and try to act normal. If she ever got the nerve, she would ask him how he did that thing with this throat.
They released Helen, the lovely centerpiece, from the table for a break, but planned to bring her back for the dessert course and more card games. Brynne looked forward to seeing more. She served more wine and cocktails after the entrée was served. She had completely lost track of the time, so when Bettie arrived a short time later to take over, her stomach dropped. There was still time to bolt for the nearest exit.
Gage was talking to Garrick at the top of the main stairs, but their conversation stopped when she approached. He looked stern, and she wondered if he ever smiled. When she saw the collar and cuffs dangling from his hand, she paused, moving no closer. Her body was still buzzing; shock, arousal, and a million wild thoughts vied for attention. She had just witnessed her best friend pleasure a man, a scene that would be burned into her brain forever.
Gage handed Garrick the wrist cuffs and addressed her brusquely. “Come here.”
Without meeting her eyes, he lifted a few strands of her hair out of the way and buckled the collar. Once again, she wore the Bad Girl tag. Garrick was fastening one cuff when Gage impatiently reached for the other. He buckled it onto her wrist and clipped the chain to the front of her collar. He tugged the other end and snapped, “Let’s get this bloody show over with.”
He kept a firm grip on her leash as they walked down one level to the open play area. Brynne refused to make eye contact with anyone and focused her eyes ahead. When she saw the wide array of punishment equipment, her eyes widened like saucers. It was a cross between a jungle gym and a gothic dungeon. If she’d seen it beforehand, she might have run for the hills. Too late now.
In her peripheral vision, she could see a crowd gathering to witness her spanking. Could she reconcile these feelings of anticipation mixed with fear and trepidation? Maybe by the end of the night, her mind would catch up to what her body wanted?
Gage looked around the playroom and cursed himself for concocting this public spectacle. When he decided on this punishment for Brynne, he believed she would quit before ever submitting to it. Christ, she goaded him at every turn! There was no doubt she deserved a spanking, but by avoiding taking her over his knee, he brought on this debacle. Talk about getting hoisted by his own petard!
Brynne looked flushed and nervous, but he refused to let that sway him. He led her over to one of the custom spanking benches, choosing the one that would allow her to retain some measure of modesty. The other spanking bench was designed to spread the sub’s legs wide apart. But he didn’t want her exposed that way. Bloody hell, I am getting soft.
She silently followed him to the red trestle-style bench and kept her eyes down. He tugged on the chain to get her attention. If looks could kill, he would be dead on the spot.
“What is your safe word?”
“Dickwad?” she whispered low enough that no one else heard.
Gage took her chin in his hand. “What did you just say?”
“Red. It’s red.” Before she could hide it, he saw the little smirk o n her face.
So that’s how she wanted to play it. Good! Because he had no interest in playing a scene with a martyr.
He pushed her forward, so her thighs pressed against the legs of the trestle and her stomach rested on the padded platform. He clipped the chain from the collar to a ring in the floor so she couldn’t rise. Next, he buckled each forearm and wrist into the cushioned rests on either side of the platform and fastened leather straps around her slender waist. He could hear her breath hitch in her throat as she twisted against the bonds.
He leaned down close to her ear. “Going somewhere, sweetheart?”
Perhaps she was realizing the seriousness of the situation?
Gage secured her ankles into cuffs affixed to the base of each leg of the bench. He trailed a hand up her leg and casually flipped up her skirt. What a surprise to see a pair of frilly black satin knickers. His mouth twitched at her blatant attempt at adding extra padding and coverage.
As he tucked the skirt into the belt at her waist, he asked, “Did you honestly think I would allow you to keep those on?”
“I guess I wondered how much of a bastard you were going to be.”
“The sooner you realize what a bastard I am, the better.”
She grunted in response.
Gage shook his head, amazed that she was still back-talking when he was controlling how much she would suffer tonight. Was she pushing his buttons on purpose, or was she just oblivious to the rules of the game?
He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I assume you have been without a proper master for too long, or perhaps the last one wasn’t able to control your rebellious nature.” He watched her clench her fists, but she remained silent.
Gage decided a grand gesture of dominance was required, so he took her ruffled panties and tore them apart at the seams. The crowd reacted with cheers when he ripped the material off and pocketed the remnants. She had layered the knickers over her sheer tights on top of a thong, and yet the scent of her arousal was impossible to ignore. His cock, which was already pulsing, throbbed against his fly.
He toyed with the idea of tearing the nylons off. Instead, he slowly drew them to her knees, leaving the lacy black thong, which was stark against the pale globes of her ass.
A few more leather straps and he would have her immobilized. The crowd was getting restless, and so was he. One thing became clear: he needed to get laid soon, or he could lose this game of cat and mouse. Tonight, he had to teach his little hellion a valuable lesson. Don’t taunt the tiger.
Brynne groaned low, and his cock responded like it was a siren’s call. A moment later, his hand landed hard on her right cheek.
“Oh fuck,” she murmured.
“This is just the warm-up, Red.”
Smack. “Uh.”
Smack! “Nngh.”
Smack! “Ow!”
“That’s better!” someone yelled from the crowd.
Smack! “God damn!” she squealed.
“Thank me for warming you up for your punishment.”
She didn’t answer for a few seconds. Smack! “Thank you for warming me up. Sir.”
Her tone was a far cry from deferential, but he let it go. Next to Garrick stood Rory, the first one on the list.
“Rory, you’re up.” Gage turned to the rack of spanking tools and chose a deerskin flogger. He handed it over and said, “You get a total of five strokes,” then he stepped back so he could watch Brynne’s face.
“What a sweet tush she has!” Rory could barely contain his excitement.
Whoosh. The first blow landed. She made a noise and looked surprised. She probably expected it to hurt more. He took his time and swung the flogger harder, making Brynne gasp. Two more landed hard on her hamstrings, and she jerked in response. Finally, Rory took aim at the delicate flesh where her legs met the curve of her bottom and got the response he wanted. Brynne squealed and let out the breath she’d been holding.
Garrick called up the next man. “Douglas, you’re next.”
The man she’d served in the lounge shuffled forward. Brynne didn’t see him; she was staring at the floor. Gage watched her biting her full bottom lip, and he imagined nibbling on it, tasting it, and rubbing the head of his cock over it.
He noticed Douglas mooning over her bare backside and shook himself free of those pointless musings.
Gage chose a wide leather-covered paddle that would thud rather than sting. He waved it in front of her eyes. “This should wake you from your little trance, Red.”
“Bite me.”
She was playing right into his hands.
“Oh, we will make sure the next one bites.”
Douglas was almost eighty, so he wasn’t likely to have a lot of power in his swing. He nodded in approval and asked Gage, “What did the wee lass do to incur your wrath?”
“Would you believe she tainted the ice bucket in my office with salt, expecting me to ruin a glass of my rarest scotch?” It was loud enough for the crowd to hear it. There were murmurs of excitement around the room.
The old man shook his head. “Sacrilege! The willful chit deserves what is coming to her!”
“Aye, she does. Justice must be served, Douglas,” he said with a wink.
Brynne wriggled as best she could and spoke up. “Oh, please be merciful, sir. He’s made my life so difficult since I got here!”
Douglas, who was deaf in his right ear, asked Gage, “Did you hear something?”
“Just the whining of an impertinent sub. Carry on.” Gage handed him the paddle and watched him admire his wiggling target, certain this would be the highlight of his year.
Thwack! Dougie’s strength and aim surprised Gage. Brynne hissed through her teeth and turned to glare at him. He was pretty good at reading lips. She’d just called him a bastard.
Thwack, thwack! Douglas put his hand on her lower back to steady himself and took a moment to appreciate his handiwork. Gage knew her skin must be glowing, but he stayed where he was, watching her face for any sign she wanted it to stop. She hadn’t cried out, but the pace of her breathing had picked up and he swore she was mumbling to herself.
Two more hard and fast thwacks, and Brynne let out an angry growl. Douglas looked like he was on cloud nine. “Christ, I feel like a new man. We should do this every Saturday night!”
Gage chuckled and took the paddle from him. “Thank you for your help, Douglas. I’ll take that under advisement.”
Garrick came up to Gage and pulled him aside. He spoke low. “Martin Ridgeway is next on the list, and he wants to use the crop.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“How’s our little novice doing?”
“Feisty as ever. Either she hates me, or she’s out to prove something. Bottom line, she isn’t giving in yet.”
“Mind if I have a word?”
“Be my guest.” While he spoke to Brynne, he retrieved a couple of bottles of water and a straw from the nearby cabinet.
Garrick returned and leaned close. “She said she’s totally fine. As long as the guy is experienced, she’s ready for the crop.”
Martin was one of the longest standing members at Dominus and a good friend. He had trained countless Doms in the art of impact play. He knew his way around every single item in their collection. In fact, he helped outfit this space and all the themed rooms upstairs.
Martin came up and shook his hand. “Long time no see, Gage. Where have you been hiding?”
Gage didn’t explain that he’d been taking cover in his office and tormenting a little redhead every chance he could get. Instead, he nodded and said, “Too much paperwork these days.” He took the purple-and-black-braided riding crop down off the rack and handed it to him.
Martin admired her pale pink skin and asked, “Where did you find this one?”
“Long story, which I’ll tell you later over a drink.” Lowering his voice, he added, “She claims to be a sub, but I have my doubts.”
“Let’s find out if you have an actress or a masochist on your hands, old man.”
Gage nodded and went back to his post. He looked forward to seeing how she would react to the crop.
Martin tapped his hand a few times and touched the leather keeper as he walked around her bound form. Gage knew this would unnerve her, not knowing where he would strike. When it landed with a whoosh, Brynne’s mouth opened in shock, and she recoiled against the leather straps. Before she caught her breath, he struck again, and she screeched, “Ow, god!”
Another stinging blow caught her tender thigh, and she made a yowling sound like a cat in heat. When she turned to look at him, he saw her dilated pupils were glassy with unshed tears. Martin caught her by surprise when he finished with two rapid-fire strikes on the fullest area of her buttocks. Brynne was gasping for breath when Gage bent down to put a straw to her lips. “Here, take a few sips.”
She ignored him and sucked in a big gulp of water, so he squeezed the straw closed. “You can have a little more later.”
“You’re an ogre. I hate you,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Careful, Tink. I warned you what the consequences are for a naughty mouth.”
She glowered. “Then it’s a pity you left that thing all the way down in your office, isn’t it?”
His reaction was immediate and instinctual. “Mm. I have something just as good right here.” With a wicked grin, he pulled her torn panties from his pocket and waved them in front of her. Brynne tried to shake her head no and pressed her lips closed but he took a handful of her hair and tugged her head back. When she gasped, he stuffed the material into her mouth.
“Spit that out and I will put something much more unforgiving in its place.”
Shock was written all over her face, and he mentally put a win on the scoreboard. His erection came back with a vengeance. Somehow, she kept upping the game, and he was enjoying it so much more than he expected.
Unfortunately, the next man who walked up was the goddamned Russian. Garrick and Gage exchanged a look when he approached.
Gage broke the silence. “Another guest has the fourth spot on the list, Ivanov, so we will honor that.”
He interrupted Gage. “Nyet. Tomas relinquished his place to me. He drank too much tonight and would not have passed the sobriety test.”
It wouldn’t surprise Gage if Dimitri either bribed him or got him drunk so he could take his place. He stalled for time. “I will need to gain her agreement for the substitution.”
“Isn’t she a submissive in your club, and subject to your decision on this?”
“We employ Tink as a waitress, not a sub. This is not part of our regular curriculum, so she must agree to continue.”
Dimitri rolled his eyes and smirked. “Ladno. Okay .”
Gage leaned down and whispered into Brynne’s ear. “Dimitri got on the list—do you consent to him taking a turn?”
She looked at him, seeking confirmation that it would be all right.
“I’ll be right here. You raise two fingers or make three loud sounds in a row, and it stops.”
She nodded her agreement.
He half hoped she would decline. Allowing Ivanov to have his way put Gage on edge.
Dimitri pointed to the black-and-white elk skin thumper on the rack. It was a specialized flogger with six braided leather strands, unique because of the evenly spaced knots, which ended with soft leather tassels. It delivered a thudding sensation, not a sting.
He handed over the flogger and stood next to Brynne so she could see him in her peripheral vision. Meanwhile, Garrick inconspicuously shifted closer.
Dimitri swung the flogger and let it hit his own thigh. The second time he hit harder, testing the impact, and nodded to himself.
Brynne was grinding the fabric in her mouth. She shut her eyes, preparing for another sensation. Gage had to admit, she seemed determined to make it through without surrendering.
Judging by the muted sound of the elk skin strands hitting her bottom and Brynne’s murmur, the first strike was not very hard. Perhaps he was not familiar with this style of flogger, which was designed for longer punishment scenes. Dimitri raised his arm and just before impact, he flicked his wrist, causing a loud snap that was heard around the room. Brynne shuddered and whimpered loudly into the satin in her mouth. Dimitri repeated the action and struck her other vulnerable cheek, causing her to groan and jerk against the cuffs. The Russian moved closer and put his large hand on her flushed skin, lightly caressing the spot he had just punished. “Only two more, Devushka. I don’t want to bruise your lush bottom—too much.”
Gage clenched his fists, itching to remove the man’s hand.
Dimitri took his time, while the audience looked on with bated breath. He struck her left hamstring hard—and followed it with one more on the right. The muffled squeals she made reverberated along Gage’s cock, and he let out a sigh when it was over.
Dimitri handed the whip to him and nodded. “Spasibo.” His mouth twisted in a fake smile, then he turned and started toward the group. They parted automatically to let him pass.
Michael Richmond was the last person on the list. He was a newer member of Dominus, but Gage’s best friends and business partners knew him well and vouched for him. Aaron and Cole were longstanding members of Lucifer’s Eden, the most exclusive BDSM clubs with locations in New York, Miami, and Houston. Michael had sponsored their memberships, and when he’d interviewed, Gage found out they had several mutual acquaintances in the scene, including one submissive Gage spent several months with before he moved back to London. He was fastidious in the way he dressed and carried himself, and when it came to bondage and discipline, he knew exactly what he was doing.
They shook hands, and Gage greeted him warmly. “Good to see you, Michael. I trust you will show Tink what happens when a good scotch is trifled with.”
He laughed and winked. “It will be my pleasure to teach her a lesson she won’t soon forget.”
“Aye. And what were you thinking of using?”
Michael winked. “The cane would be my first choice.”
If it were anyone else, he would have declined, but he’d seen Michael use the cane and knew he was precise and controlled. It was obvious Brynne wasn’t traumatized by this experience. In fact, she may not have learned her lesson yet.
He nodded and handed the brown-haired man the quarter-inch rattan cane, then returned to his post beside the head of the bench. Gage knew that pacing and rhythm were crucial, and it took the body about five to six seconds to process the pain. If a Dom moved too fast, it would inhibit the pleasure that typically spread following the strike. Brynne would either love it or hate it.
Michael tested the spring in the rattan, ensuring it was to his satisfaction. Then he tested it on a nearby leather bench. The whistling sound and piercing thwack caused Brynne to flinch.
He positioned himself and took a practice swing, not unlike a baseball player before the first pitch. The cane stopped just short of her warmed flesh, and she rattled against the restraints.
The first stroke landed squarely across both rounded globes, and Michael held it there to let her skin absorb the sensation. Brynne reacted seconds later, her head jerking up in shock and coming up hard against the chain on her collar. Gage watched closely for her “stop” signals.
The second stroke landed less than twenty seconds later, and judging by the sound, it was slightly harder. Brynne screeched and squeezed her eyes shut. A few errant tears dripped to the floor.
Michael waited a little longer before landing the third, this one above the first—where a faint red line had appeared. He held it there and let the sting radiate. She sobbed, and the sound thrummed along Gage’s senses, making him wish he was the one administering the punishment.
Brynne wriggled as much as the straps would allow and sniffed hard as she coped with the pain. Michael admired the marks and adjusted his stance. When he landed the last two strokes in rapid succession on her upper hamstrings, she lost it. A high-pitched wail pierced the air, and she shook in reaction. Gage reached down and pulled the soaked satin out of her mouth, and she drew in a deep breath and wept like a baby.
“Shhh, it’s all over now, Red.” He undid the collar, unbuckled all the cuffs, and deftly released the rest of the straps on the bench. She mumbled something he couldn’t make out.
“What was that?” he said, handing her his handkerchief. She quickly wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
She sniffed, hiccupping a little, “I said, th-thank you, sir.”
His mouth twitched. Garrick brought a blanket over, a knowing smile pasted on his face. Gage covered Brynne and carefully lifted her to stand, but she couldn’t hold herself up. He picked her up in his arms, and she made a feeble protest.
“I’ve got you.” Gage felt her hand grip his shirt as he made his way to the elevator.
When they entered his office, he flipped on the gas fireplace to warm up the room. She was looking up at him now, her eyelashes still wet, and little tracks of mascara staining her pale cheeks. He put her down carefully next to one of the large leather club chairs.
“I want you to kneel on the cushion and rest your arms on the back of the chair. I’m going to put some arnica gel and a cold compress on you.” He waited for the inevitable protest, but it didn’t come. Instead, he watched her position herself as instructed. She rested her forehead on her arms, hiding her face from him. Gage got the compress from the fridge and the ointment from the cabinet above. He drew the blanket off and lifted her skirt to reveal her punished flesh.
“Brace yourself. It will be cold, but you will feel better soon. This will also help prevent bruising.” He squeezed a generous amount into his hands.
She gasped in shock when his hands touched her. “Christ, it’s freezing.”
“Aye, your skin is still very hot,” he said, as he rubbed the cream into her skin. With herculean effort, he tried to remain unmoved by the sight, but it was futile. He couldn’t deny the truth anymore. He wanted to fuck this little hellcat. So, the sooner she was gone from his club, the better.
He finished coating her cheeks and upper legs and then laid the cold compress across her backside. She pulled forward and groaned, “This is worse than the cane, for god’s sake!”
He chuckled and she looked back at him, her eyes narrowed.
He brought over a cold bottle of Gatorade and a couple of ibuprofen. “Here.” He handed her two pills, showing her the bottle. “Take two now and another two before bed.”
“I’d rather have a gin and tonic.”
He returned to sit at his desk, where he didn’t have to see her tempting ass. “No. Alcohol is not a good idea. Your body needs time to recover.”
She stuck her tongue out at him but swallowed the pills and gulped half the bottle of the sports drink.
Gage shook his head, picked up the phone, and called the kitchen. “George, could you whip me up a pepperoni pizza? Medium. Yes, please. My office. Thanks.”
When Gage looked up, he found she’d laid her cheek on her hands and was snoring lightly. Up to this point, he had tried to ignore what was happening. The combination of her fire and vulnerability appealed to the Dom in him. Her soft voluptuous body and its tantalizing scents were constantly whispering to his cock and tripping all his circuits.
He carefully removed the compress and lifted her to the couch. She mumbled, but barely stirred when he laid her out on her stomach. He put the compress back on and covered her with the blanket.
He still didn’t know if she was truly submissive or just willful and stubborn. There was no doubt it aroused her when he tied her down to the bench. Her body was humming in anticipation before the first strike. He wanted to ask Garrick or John what happened at the party and guessed it was an evening of firsts.
To distract himself, he checked his email and replied to a note from Cole, who was flying in for the fetish party. He had business in Ireland and would stop in London afterward. They hadn’t seen each other since the Houston club opening ten months ago. His friend wanted to hear all about the mess with Sierra.
A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. “Yes?”
“It’s Garrick. Safe to come in?”
Gage opened the door, his face stern. “Of course, man. You know better than that.”
Garrick grinned. “I wondered if she was showing you her appreciation for taking such good care of—”
Brynne let out a loud snore followed by a moan. Garrick chuckled and looked at Gage.
“She’s a special little lady. Will you be seeing her home?”
“No,” he said, a bit too abruptly. “I’ve ordered some food. I’ll put her in a taxi once she’s rested and eaten. Aren’t you the one who said she’s a tough cookie?”
Garrick snorted. “I did, but she’s just had her first public scene and it was a doozy.”
Gage scowled at him, annoyed that his judgment was being questioned. “I’ve got this, G. Shouldn’t you be back up on the floor? The club is busy—and I’m sure our guests need your attention.”
He nodded. “Sure, boss. I’ll catch you later.”
Gage sat back down at his desk when another knock sounded. “What?” he barked.
“It’s Ronnie, sir. I have your pizza.”
“Come in, Ronnie.”
The waiter came in and couldn’t help but notice the lady snoozing on his couch. He paused a moment too long.
“I’m over here.” Gage’s tone was imperious, and Ronnie hurried over and handed him the tray. “That will be all.”
“Yes, sir.” He scooted out the door.
The food smelled divine, and his stomach reminded him of how famished he was. After devouring two pieces, Gage took a plate over to the coffee table and tried to rouse sleeping beauty.
“Hey Red. Wake up, the pizza is here.”
She moaned and licked her lips, but her eyes remained shut. He lifted the blanket and removed the now-thawed ice packet, and that jolted her awake. “Ow, what the? Where am I?”
“You are in my office, snoring on my couch. Now, sit up carefully and eat something.” He tried to sound less like a dick than usual. Didn’t she realize how hard that was?
“Oh. God, that smells divine.” She wrapped the blanket around her arms and swung her legs off the couch, cringing as she sat up. “Ooh wow, that smarts!” Taking the plate eagerly, she said, “Thank you for this. You didn’t have to.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “You are my responsibility when you are in my club. Aftercare is as important as your safety during a scene.”
“Okay,” she said, covering her mouth as she chewed a big bite. When she had polished off the entire piece, she looked at him playfully. “So, how did I do? Bet you thought I would cry uncle after the first five strokes.”
“I know you have a stubborn streak a mile wide, and you were out to prove something. I’m just not sure what it was.”
Her smile faded, and he felt like a heel.
“I wanted the experience. And yes, I guess I wanted to prove I could handle anything you could dish out.”
His eyes narrowed. “There you’d be mistaken, Brynne. You endured a carefully orchestrated spanking, but you wouldn’t last a day as my submissive.”
Her chin tilted up, and she looked poised to argue, but she stopped herself.
He rose to leave the office. “Finish your pizza, and when you’re ready, I’ll take you home.”