Chapter 19. Kit #2
The cadence settles, relentless. He moves methodically rather than repeatedly targeting one patch of skin, but that does absolutely nothing to make it pleasant. I mean—
It does. That's the problem. It hurts so much.
And I'm hard. Very hard. I dread every strike.
I want the next one. I desperately want him to stop.
I absolutely do not want him to stop. Human sexuality was a design error.
My feet start moving without permission.
A kick. Then another. My hips twist instinctively, body trying to evade something my brain agreed to.
Soren's leg shifts. Hooks securely over mine. Holds me in position.
Exactly the way I asked him to yesterday.
My entire body reacts to that realization.
Fuck. The brush lands again. I whine. Actually whine.
Mortifying. Soren doesn't tease me. Of course he doesn't. Another strike.
Another. My body keeps trying to escape the sensation.
Soren keeps me steady. The next strike lands and a sob catches in my throat.
Soren pauses. His palm replaces the brush. Warm against overheated skin.
"Kit."
I drag in a breath.
"Do you need Yellow?"
I check. Actually check. My heart. My breathing. The pain. My head.
"No."
"Still with me?"
"Yes."
"Still want to continue?"
My fingers tighten against the stool. I desperately want it both to stop and to continue at the same fucking time.
"Yes, Daddy."
His palm moves once, soothing.
"Good boy."
Then the hairbrush comes back. The next stretch is harder.
The rhythm stays controlled. Every strike means exactly what the last one meant.
No guessing whether he's furious. No wondering whether I've ruined everything.
Just: I broke a rule. Daddy noticed. Daddy told me.
There is a consequence. It happens. It ends.
The clarity of it hits almost as hard as the brush.
My eyes fill. Then I'm crying. It just happens. Tears dropping toward the concrete beneath me.
"I'm sorry." My voice cracks. The brush stops.
Not because I've safeworded. Because Soren listens when I speak.
His hand settles against me again. "I'm so sorry, Daddy.
" My chest heaves. "I shouldn't have done that.
I knew the rule. I knew exactly what I was doing and I did it anyway because I wanted to see if you'd—"
My voice breaks completely.
"If I'd what?"
"Mean it," I complete it.
Silence.
"I wanted to see if you'd mean it."
His hand moves slowly along my back.
"I do."
That makes me cry harder.
"I know." My forehead drops. "I know now."
Soren waits until I can breathe again. Then: "Do you understand why the rule exists?"
"Because I keep treating the road like nothing can happen to me."
"Yes."
"And because if I want to push, I have the track."
"Yes."
"And because you don't want me trying to scare myself into feeling something."
His hand stills.
"Exactly."
I sniff. Pathetic. Wet. Small.
"I'm sorry."
"I know you are, baby boy." His voice is gentle now.
No edge left in it. "That's enough." My entire body goes limp from the words.
Enough. He sets the brush aside. Then he says the thing I didn't realize I needed until I hear it.
"The consequence is over." I close my eyes. "You're not in trouble anymore."
Oh. Something deep inside me gives way. Completely. Soren helps my clothes back into place before he moves me. Then he gets me upright. My legs feel unreliable. My face ends up against his chest almost immediately. One of his arms wraps around my back. The other hand comes to the base of my skull.
"There you are."
I grip his shirt. My breathing is still uneven.
"I'm sorry."
"We already did that part."
I let out a wet little laugh. "Right."
"No repeating the punishment in your own head for the next six hours."
"That's a rule?"
"It may become one."
I laugh again. Soren kisses the top of my head.
"You did well."
My fingers tighten in his shirt.
"Even though I broke the rule?"
"You did well taking responsibility for it."
Oh.
"You told me the truth. You checked in honestly. You remembered your safewords." His fingers move through my hair. "And you accepted the consequence you asked me to give you." My throat tightens. "Good boy.”
There it is. My entire body softens against him. He keeps holding me until my breathing settles. No coldness. No distance. No question hanging in the room about whether I've disappointed him beyond repair.
Eventually he gets me water. Makes me drink it.
I sit on the stool while he crouches in front of me, forearms resting against his thighs.
My eyes feel swollen. My body is still buzzing.
I'm also still embarrassingly hard. Soren notices.
Of course he notices. His eyes flick down.
Then back to my face. He doesn't laugh. Doesn't touch.
Doesn't turn the punishment into something else simply because my body reacted to it.
For some reason, that makes me feel even safer.
I look down at my hands.
"Thank you, Daddy."
"You're welcome, baby boy."
I press my face into his chest. His shirt smells like clean cotton, machine oil, and him. And there they are again. Those stupid words. Right behind my teeth. I love you. I don't say them. Not yet.