Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
Amber
Adrenaline is pumping furiously through my body. So many things are happening at once, bombarding me with sensations. My ass is on fire from the spanking. My pussy is dripping wet. I’ve never been this aroused in my life. My adult wants to tell Isaac to fuck himself. My Little wants to please him.
I don’t think he will take too kindly to being told to fuck off, so I shuffle toward the corner where he waits patiently. My heart races.
“Good girl. Lean your forehead where the walls join, spread your legs, and clasp your hands at the small of your back.”
I struggle to comply because it feels like he’s given me too many instructions.
“That’s a good girl.” He lifts the hem of the T-shirt. “I’m going to tuck this under your hands. You need to hold it up so your bottom remains exposed. If you can’t hold it, I’ll take the shirt off, and you can stand there naked.”
I shudder. The thought of exposing my ass to him is overwhelming, but the thought of standing here naked is much worse, so I press my wrists against the cotton to hold it up.
He smooths a hand down the back of my hair. “You should take the time to think about your punishment while you’re in timeout. Think about how it made you feel. Think about how your bottom stings and how badly you’d rather come than stand in the corner. The answers will help you decide how you want to behave in the future. I’ll make lunch while you think.”
He kisses the top of my head and walks away.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. The most prominent thought in my head is how horny I am. I’m embarrassed because wetness is running down my inner thighs, and I suspect Isaac knows. He can see it.
It’s confusing. I think I understand why people might like the arousal they get from a spanking, but what good is it if they are denied release afterward?
I remember Isaac telling me that some Littles prefer to behave and ask for a spanking when they need it instead of misbehaving to get their fix. Apparently, if I were to ask Isaac to spank me, he would let me come afterward.
I couldn’t begin to understand what the hell he was talking about when he told me that because who would want to have sex after being spanked? But I get it now. I would. No man has ever managed to get me this aroused, and Isaac did so without touching my pussy.
I take deep breaths, trying to get my arousal under control. I’m still trembling, and my nipples are hard points against the T-shirt. I want to rub them, but I don’t dare, and besides, that will not help me control my need.
My ass is on fire, and I’m certain he didn’t spank me as hard or as long as he could have. When he stopped, I was right on the edge of tears. If he’d continued, I would have started crying. I was holding back the deep emotional outburst, but it might have felt better if I hadn’t.
Isaac said some Little girls like to be spanked until they cry. Am I one of them? I came close enough to understand that the sensation of my release would have been deeper. It would have left me drained and exhausted, but maybe that would have been a good thing. Maybe someday, I’ll ask him to try it so I’ll know. I don’t think I was ready for such an emotional experience today, so it’s probably best he didn’t push me that far.
My mind shifts to another thought—the humiliation of standing here like a naughty girl, exposing my bottom. If someone would have suggested I might be in this position two days ago, I would have laughed in their face.
I’m far too feisty and ornery to let someone discipline me. Why am I doing this? Part of me wants to shove away from this wall, march out of the room, and slam my door shut. I’d be breaking several rules in doing so, but I would be able to reassert my adult self and get my head back on straight.
It seems like I’ve been either partially or totally in Little space from the moment I stepped into Cassandra’s playroom yesterday. I’m not even sure I can control it. I managed to put on a front for other people while we were out this morning, but my Little was hovering in the background. The entire time, I was fidgety and fighting to tamp her down.
Maybe my Little has been right beneath the surface for a long time. I didn’t fully acknowledge her existence until the day I met Cassandra and spent some time in the back of her closet with her. Ever since then, I’ve had thoughts that won’t leave me alone. I think that’s why it was so easy for me to grab my pillow and teddy and climb into the back of my own closet the other night.
My stress level has been growing for the past few weeks as Jacob’s impending release got closer. I didn’t tell anyone. In fact, when people asked, I blew them off and said I was fine. Outwardly, I pretended I didn’t care he was about to get out of prison.
My rational mind agrees. There’s no reason to feel nervous. He’s not coming after me. He has no reason to. He would jeopardize his freedom if he came near me. There’s a restraining order. Plus, I have Isaac. A scrawny twenty-seven-year-old is no match for Isaac.
However, there’s no way to stop my subconscious mind from running rampant. It controls my dreams and my nightmares. I’m on alert and conjuring up all sorts of scenarios. I try to ignore them, but they seep in anyway.
Thoughts of being grabbed from behind infiltrate my mind at will. That’s how I was taken the first time. I was foolishly walking alone at night off campus when someone wrapped their arm around me from behind. They covered my mouth.
The panic that consumed me was overwhelming and short-lived because, in seconds, a needle was plunged into my arm, and I passed out.
I squeeze my eyes closed at the memory. A cold sweat breaks out. I can’t make the visions stop. It’s like the side of me that feels inept recognizes that I’m vulnerable right now and sneaks in through the opening.
Memories assault me, trying to take me down—flashing like photographs.
Me sitting in the corner of that concrete room on the dingy old mattress, my knees pulled up to my chest as I fought back the nausea that lingered for hours.
Me holding my skirt up with my panties around my knees so I could pee into the bucket. Even though Jacob turned around when I relieved myself, the humiliation was real. The first few times, my legs were so weak and shaking from the lingering drugs that I feared I might fall on my face and spill vomit, shit, and pee all over myself.
My mind switches to the nights. It was so dark and lonely in that room. Jacob was assigned to the days. Someone else guarded me at night, but he didn’t come into the room. He sat outside the door.
I shivered from the cold even after Jacob gave me a pair of sweatpants to wear under my skirt. At night, I lay in fear. My brother had to be freaking the fuck out. He’d feared something like this would happen someday, and I’d never taken him seriously. I knew he would pay the ransom. I wondered what was taking so long. I’d been there four days.
I think back on a conversation I heard between Jacob and his brother…
“Pull your shit together, Jacob. Remember what Dad said. The Wakefields have more money than God. That girl and her brother didn’t even earn it. Why should they have a silver spoon while we have nothing?”
I’m breathing heavily as I try to shake the fear I felt back then. I’m not there anymore. I was rescued. An entire team rescued me. Ben led the group. That’s how my brother met him and ended up hiring him as his own personal protection detail.
My brain won’t stop going back to that basement. I try to think about pretty things like flowers or the blue sky on a summer day, but I’m dragged back into that fucking basement.
Stop. Stop, stop, stop .
I’m there again, hovering in the corner. It’s morning. I’m shaking as I rock back and forth. My stomach is growling, and I’m thirsty. Jacob hasn’t come in to bring me something to eat or drink since sometime yesterday.
Suddenly, there’s a loud bang, like a door slamming into a wall and then shouting.
I scream. I can’t stop myself. I start screaming louder and louder.
When someone touches me, I cringe, afraid it’s my captors.
“Amber, you’re safe,” a disembodied voice tells me. I don’t know the voice. Has the person come to rescue me? They lift me gently in their arms.
“Amber… Baby, you’re safe.”
This time, I recognize the voice. I jerk my eyes open, confused for a moment, until I realize Isaac is holding me. He’s cradling me in his arms. I glance around. I’m in my apartment. I’m not back in that basement. I’m home. Protected. Safe .
I start crying.
Isaac holds me closer and carries me out of the kitchen. He sits on the couch, reminding me that the last time he sat here not long ago, I was extended over his lap. He spanked me.
My ass is naked against his jeans. The only thing I’m wearing is his T-shirt, and it’s pushed up, exposing my butt.
He rocks me gently, stroking hair away from my face. “Baby, what happened?”
I’m sobbing, but I try to control myself, eventually reduced to sniffles with the occasional hiccup.
Isaac… Daddy . He’s my Daddy now. His brows are furrowed. He looks scared. “Tell me what happened, baby.”
I swallow. “I was back in that basement,” I mutter. “I couldn’t stop the visions.”
“Because I spanked you?”
I frown. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Did they hit you, baby? Did your captors strike you?”
I shake my head. “No.”
He rolls me closer. “Baby…”
“I think…” I lick my lips. “I think when I’m alone, and there’s nothing to occupy my mind, it wanders back to that basement.”
“Okay.” He strokes my forehead. “No more timeouts for you.”
I draw in a breath. “I think…” I’m not sure how to explain what I’m feeling. “I think you stopped too soon.”
“Stopped what, baby?”
“Stopped spanking me. I was so close to…”
He hesitates. “Crying?”
I nod. What’s wrong with me?
“I didn’t want to push you that far for your first spanking.”
“I think I needed it. I still need it. I need to let it out. You can help me. You can spank me until I cry.”
He holds my gaze. I can tell he’s reluctant.
I sit up on his lap. “Please, Daddy. Spank me again. Don’t stop this time. I need you to chase away the demons.”
“Baby…”
“Please… Daddy, please.” I know I’m right. I know this will work. I was so close. I could feel the edge of that blissful release I would have gotten. If he had kept spanking me, I would have moved past the arousal and started crying.
“Why don’t we explore that option another day? We can talk about it first.”
I shake my head and grab the front of his T-shirt. “I need it now. I promise I’m in my right mind.” I know the rules at Surrender. I’m not drunk or on drugs. I know what I need. I’ve never understood it until this moment, but it’s as clear as day to me now.
Daddy lifts me and stands me on my feet. He cups my face. His gaze lowers to my chin.
“The cut is fine, Daddy. I promise.”
He gives a slight nod.
“Spank me.”
“Okay, baby,” he murmurs as he guides me to his side again and helps me onto his lap.
It’s not as scary this time. This isn’t a punishment spanking. He said I could ask if I needed a spanking, and that’s what I’ve done. I settle over him with less fear and trepidation. I nestle my cheek against my arms, careful to avoid catching my chin.
Daddy pushes the T-shirt up my back, and I spread my legs a few inches. I’m not feeling sexual right now, though. I want to feel the pain.
He rubs my already heated bottom. “If I’m going to spank you harder than before, you need to use safewords, baby.”
“Okay.”
“Red, yellow, and green?”
“Yes, Sir.” I’m aware of safewords. I’ve been to Surrender enough to know the basics, but I’ve never been in a situation that would require one. This is new to me.
“Give me your hands, baby. Tuck them behind you.”
I arch my chest and reach back, setting my cheek on the couch cushion.
Daddy clasps both wrists with one hand at the small of my back. “I don’t want to risk you reaching back while I’m spanking you, Amber. I could hurt you if you did.”
“Okay, Daddy.” I’m straddling the line between my Little and my adult. I’m both at once. It’s easier to get spanked in my Little space. I can justify it better in my head. But my adult is allowed to ask for a spanking, and she did. That’s okay, too.
It doesn’t matter if I’m Little or not right now. Daddy doesn’t care. He’s going to take care of me no matter what. He has always taken care of me even when I didn’t recognize I had a Little.
“Ready, baby?”
“Yes, Sir.”
The first swat takes me a bit by surprise. It stings more than earlier because my ass is hot and tender. Plus, he swatted me harder this time. I wince and force myself to take a deep breath. On my exhale, he starts spanking me in earnest.
I focus on breathing. In. Out. Absorbing the pain.
Daddy swats me at least a dozen times before pausing. “Color, baby?”
“Green,” I whimper. I don’t want him to stop. I want to really feel it. I’m sliding into my head with every spank, escaping. I don’t know whether this is healthy or not, but I don’t care right now. I want to escape myself.
Daddy strokes my hair away from my face and tucks it behind my ear before he continues. The next slap sounds loud, reverberating in the room. Another and another. I think he’s cupping his hand differently. The pain is deeper. More…solid. I can’t describe it. It doesn’t matter.
I lose track of how many times he spanks me. A lot. I’m lulled by the rhythm and the expectation. My ass is on fire, and it feels so good.
Suddenly, he gives me one swat that spans both cheeks. It’s harder, and I gasp as the pain flows through me. The dam finally breaks, and I cry out before I start sobbing. A deep emotional rush bursts out of me, and I can’t stop it.
Daddy releases my wrists and rubs my bottom, but after a moment, he lifts me to roll me over. He cradles me, holding me tightly, being careful not to let my bottom touch anything. My ass is suspended between his legs as he rocks me, kissing my temple and whispering to me.
“Such a good girl… I’m so proud of you… Let it all out, baby.”
I keep crying, big tears running down my cheeks. I can’t stop the outburst, and I don’t want to. I need this. I haven’t cried like this in my life. I don’t recall even doing so as a child.
Even when I was rescued from that dank basement, I did not cry. I put on a brave front, mostly for my brother. He was a mess, distraught and out of his mind. I didn’t want his life to be ruined because I was kidnapped, so I stuffed all the feelings deep down and held back my emotions.
I didn’t have any privacy for a long time after my rescue. My brother had all my belongings moved out of the dorm and into his house. He set me up in a spare bedroom without a word and watched over me like a hawk. He hired Ben to protect both of us. Days and weeks went by before I realized I never had a chance to freak out. It seemed too late. Why bother?
This is the dam that’s breaking. I’m falling apart because I didn’t do so ten years ago. The trigger was Jacob’s release, but that doesn’t matter. Something would have eventually caused me to let loose.
I cry and cry and cry. Daddy keeps encouraging me to let it all out. He never suggests I should stop. I’m grateful.
I don’t know how long I sob before I finally manage to take a full breath and reduce my crying to sniffles. I’m limp and exhausted.
Daddy lifts me in his arms and carries me to my bathroom. He manages to hold me with one arm while he wets a washcloth, and then he carefully wipes my face.
He even grabs a pile of tissues and encourages me to blow my nose. That makes me giggle. “Daddy…”
“Blow, baby,” he demands again, so I do.
After carrying me back into the bedroom, he pulls the covers back and gently lowers me onto the cool sheets.
I wince when my butt touches the mattress, but it’s not too bad.
“I’m going to get some ointment for your bottom. I’ll be right back. Can you roll over for me?” He kisses my forehead before he leaves me.
I hate it when he’s gone. I want him to stay with me. But I don’t say anything. I’m not being reasonable. Obviously, he has to go to his own room to get the ointment.
I whimper as I roll onto my tummy. It seems like my entire body hurts. I bet I was stiff while he was spanking me. I thought I had been relaxed, but probably not.
When he’s back, he sits on the edge of the bed and pushes the T-shirt up my back again. “This will help your skin cool, baby. Hold still while I rub it in.”
I’m facing him, and I stare at him for a moment before I find the courage to ask, “Why do you have that?”
He smiles at me. “Every good Dom has a soothing ointment for naughty bottoms in his toy bag.”
“When did you last use it?”
He’s in the middle of squeezing a line of cream onto his hand when he pauses to meet my gaze. “I’ve never used this before, baby, and my palm hasn’t been in contact with a woman’s bottom since I met you.”
I gasp. “But you go to Surrender sometimes. You don’t spank anyone?”
“Nope. I used to, but I haven’t played with another sub since I met you. I find comfort in being at Surrender, where there are like-minded Dominants and Daddies, but I haven’t touched other women, Amber.”
I stare at him, stunned by his admission. I assumed he played when he was there. He has never let me go on the nights he goes, and it’s been a damn long time since he last went anywhere without me, but I assumed…
More tears roll down my cheeks. I’ve halted this man’s life. I’ve been so self-absorbed that I never paused to think about the fact that I’m his world. He’s not shitting me. I’ve been his girl for a long time, and I’ve wasted all that time in denial.
Why? What did I gain from pretending he meant nothing to me? I told myself it was easier not to get close to anyone, but was it?
I need this man. I need him more than I need my next breath. He is my life. My rock. My man. My Daddy. I need him to be a caregiver and a lover. I need him to listen to me when I’m down and support me when I’m excited.
I’ve done nothing but thwart his every effort to take care of me for two years. I’m done fighting.
I purse my lips while he rubs the ointment into my heated skin. It hurts, but it feels good at the same time. When he’s done, he leaves the T-shirt where it is and pulls the sheet over me.
He kisses my temple. “I’m going to get you a drink, baby.”
I watch as he leaves my bedroom. Fuck, he’s sexy. He’s perfection. Every inch of him.
When he returns a few minutes later, he’s holding a bright-red sippy cup.
I use my elbows to prop myself up and giggle. It feels good. “Where did you get that?”
“Remember all those boxes I pulled into the apartment when we arrived?”
“Yeah.”
“They’re full of surprises.”
I giggle again.
He holds the cup to my lips and tips it back, helping me get a long drink.
When I’m done, I drop back down onto my tummy.
He heads for my bathroom and returns with a different ointment. “Let me see your chin, baby.”
I tip my head farther and hold still while he applies more petroleum jelly.
“Good girl. Does it hurt?”
“I can’t even feel it. All I can feel is my ass. It’s on fire.”
He chuckles. “What a dirty mouth my girl has.” He sits next to me and rubs my back. “I know you’re exhausted, and I can’t even begin to imagine what it was you just purged, but I want you to take a nap. I’ll wake you up in an hour. You need to eat some lunch, and then you’re going to talk to me.”
“Yes, Daddy.” For the first time since I met him, I want to do just that. I want to tell him everything on my mind, spit it all out. It’s going to come out in a word vomit, but I need the release. I need him to understand me better.
I close my eyes. I’m lulled by him rubbing my back. It’s the last thing I remember before I drift off.