Chapter 6 #3
Each word was punctuated by his palm meeting my increasingly heated flesh. The rhythm was methodical, calculated—right cheek, left cheek, the tender spot where thigh met bottom. He wasn't holding back, and each impact forced small sounds from my throat that I couldn't quite suppress.
"You will not," another series of strikes, harder now, "endanger yourself," the pace increasing, "for any reason."
My fingers clawed at the carpet, seeking anchor as the punishment continued.
The pain was building, layer upon layer, transforming my bottom into a canvas of heat and sensation.
Through the bond, I felt his determination, his absolute commitment to making this lesson stick.
But underneath that, threading through like silver through ice, was his arousal at having me like this—vulnerable, submitting, taking my punishment even as my body betrayed how much it affected me.
"When I tell you something is dangerous," his hand came down particularly hard, making me cry out, "you will believe me. My experience spans millennia, little one. My knowledge of threats is absolute."
The lecture continued, but I was losing the ability to focus on words.
The pain was transforming, each strike sending dual signals—the sharp sting of impact and a deeper pulse of need that went straight to my core.
My thighs were wet, embarrassingly so, and I knew he could see everything from his position.
Then everything changed.
His hand came down again, but this time it carried winter itself. The impact felt like being struck with a palm made of ice, sharp and burning cold, making my muscles seize. I screamed, the sound muffled by the carpet, my entire body going rigid at the shocking sensation.
"You nearly fell into the void," he said, and his voice had gone darker, more dragon than man. Another strike of that frozen hand, this time on my left cheek, the cold so intense it felt like burning. "Do you have any idea what that would have done to me?"
I was sobbing now, the tears coming freely as he alternated ice-cold strikes across my punished flesh.
The cold was worse than the simple spanking—it made every nerve ending shriek, made my skin feel like it might shatter.
But even through that, my traitorous body responded, interpreting his control over temperature as just another display of his dominance.
Then, without warning, he switched.
The next strike burned with actual heat, not enough to damage but enough to make me wail. After the freezing cold, the heat felt like being branded, even though I knew he'd never truly hurt me. My bottom felt like it was on fire, the sudden temperature change making my head spin.
"Three thousand years," he said, punctuating each word with alternating temperatures—ice, fire, ice, fire. "Three thousand years of waiting, only to find you and lose you?"
I was beyond coherent thought now, my world reduced to sensation and response.
The alternating temperatures overwhelmed my nervous system completely, sending confused signals that my body interpreted as the most intense arousal I'd ever experienced.
Pain and pleasure had blurred into something else entirely, something that made me rock my hips despite the punishment, seeking friction against his thigh.
"Please," I sobbed, the word barely intelligible. "Please, Daddy, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—"
"Sorry for what?" Another strike, this one carrying both temperatures somehow, making me see stars. "Be specific, little one."
"For disobeying," I gasped. "For risking myself. For almost leaving you." The words poured out between sobs. "I didn't think—didn't understand—"
"No," he agreed, his hand coming down again with enough force to lift me slightly forward. "You didn't think. You let curiosity override safety, let defiance overcome wisdom."
The spanking continued, though he'd returned to using just his hand without the temperature play.
But by now, my bottom was so sensitized that even normal strikes felt like explosions of sensation.
I was crying freely, all dignity abandoned, my hips grinding shamelessly against his thigh as each impact pushed me forward.
"But you're learning now, aren't you?" His voice had shifted, carrying satisfaction alongside the stern discipline. "Learning that your Daddy knows best. That my rules exist for reasons. That disobedience has consequences."
"Yes," I sobbed. "Yes, Daddy, I'm learning, I promise, I'll be good—"
"Will you?" Another strike, precise and devastating. "Will you obey when I tell you to stay safe?"
"Yes!" The word tore from my throat.
"Will you trust that my experience means I can identify dangers you can't?"
"Yes, Daddy, yes!"
The final strike landed with enough force to make me scream, but it wasn't pain that forced the sound from me.
The impact had pressed me forward against his thigh at just the right angle, and combined with the overwhelming sensations, I found myself right on the edge of climax.
My body trembled, caught between the burning heat of my punished bottom and the desperate need for release.
"Please," I whimpered, not even sure what I was begging for anymore.
His hand rested on my burning flesh, not striking now, just maintaining contact that made me hyperaware of every welt, every heated inch of skin.
Through the bond, I felt his satisfaction—not just at my submission, but at how thoroughly I'd broken for him, how completely I'd surrendered to his discipline.
"The punishment is over. You are forgiven," Sereis murmured, and his voice carried such gentleness that fresh tears sprang to my eyes for entirely different reasons.
"You've taken it beautifully, little one.
My fierce, stubborn girl, learning to submit.
" His hand ghosted over my heated flesh, and this time the touch brought blessed coolness, drawing out the worst of the sting while leaving enough to remind me of my lesson.
The relief was immediate but not complete.
He controlled the sensation precisely, soothing the sharp edge of pain while maintaining the deep, throbbing heat that kept me achingly aware of my submission.
Each pass of his hand sent waves of cooling magic into my abused flesh, and I moaned at the contrast, at how even his mercy was a form of dominance.
"Up now, little one," he said softly, helping me shift position with careful hands.
My legs trembled as I moved, muscles weak from tension and release.
He guided me with patient strength, turning me until I could settle sideways across his lap, my tender bottom carefully positioned to minimize pressure.
The moment I was settled, his arms came around me, gathering me against his chest with a possessiveness that made my heart skip.
The embrace was everything the punishment hadn't been—gentle, protective, cherishing.
He held me like I might shatter, or like I might disappear if he loosened his grip.
One hand cradled my head against his shoulder while the other traced soothing patterns along my spine, following the silver frost lines that still glowed with residual arousal.
The rocking chair moved gently beneath us, that impossible warm-ice responding to his will, creating a rhythm that soothed my hiccupping sobs.
I pressed my face into his neck, breathing in his scent, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse against my cheek.
He was so controlled, so contained, but through the bond I felt the storm of emotion beneath that calm surface.
"Mira." My name on his lips sounded like a prayer and a possession combined. His hand came up to cup my face, tilting it until I had to meet his eyes. What I saw there stole my breath—raw vulnerability that he'd never let anyone else witness.
"I cannot lose you." The words came out rough, dragged from somewhere deep. "Do you understand? You are my only warmth."
His thumb brushed away tears I hadn't realized were still falling.
"When I saw you falling toward that void, I experienced something I haven't felt in millennia—true terror.
Not fear of death or pain or loss of power.
Terror that the universe had finally given me my match only to snatch you away through your own recklessness. "
"I didn't mean—" I started, but he pressed his thumb gently against my lips.
"I know. You're curious, brave, defiant—all the things that make you perfect for me.
My opposite—designed to bring out parts of me that have been dormant for too long.
But you're also young, even with the transformation.
There are dangers in this realm you can't conceive of, things that existed before humans had words for nightmare.
" His other hand tightened on my waist, holding me more firmly against him.
"That's why you must trust me. Not because I demand blind obedience, but because my knowledge can keep you safe while you learn. "
The honesty in his voice undid me completely. This ancient, powerful being, who could reshape reality with a thought, was confessing his fear of losing me. Me—a human-turned-something-else who'd stumbled into his life days ago.
"I'm sorry," I whispered against his thumb. "Truly sorry. Not just for the disobedience, but for scaring you. For almost—" I couldn't finish the thought.
"You're forgiven," he repeated, and this time I felt the truth of it through our bond. The anger had burned away, leaving only fierce protectiveness and something else, something that made my skin heat for entirely different reasons.
I shifted in his lap, trying to find a position that didn't press quite so much on my tender flesh, and in doing so I felt him—hard and insistent beneath me.
My movement drew a sharp breath from him, his hands tightening reflexively on my body.
The evidence of his arousal sent fresh wetness flooding between my thighs, my body responding instantly despite everything we'd just been through.
Or perhaps because of it. The punishment had broken down walls I hadn't known existed, leaving me raw and open and desperately needing connection.
Not just physical, though that need pulsed through every nerve ending.
I needed to feel claimed, owned, cherished—all the things his discipline had promised.
"Daddy," I whispered, and watched his pupils dilate at the word. My hand came up to rest on his chest, feeling the rapid heartbeat that belied his controlled exterior. "I need—"
"I know what you need." His voice had dropped to that register that made my bones vibrate. "My fierce little girl, so brave during punishment, taking everything I gave you. You were perfect, Mira. Absolutely perfect."
The praise made me whimper, my hips rolling involuntarily against his erection. The friction sent sparks through my core, and I gasped at the intensity. Everything felt heightened—every touch, every breath, every point of contact between us.
His hand tangled in my hair, tilting my head back, and I saw his control finally, finally starting to crack. "You're dripping for me, aren't you? I can smell your arousal, feel your need through the bond. The punishment aroused you as much as it taught you."
"Yes," I breathed, beyond shame or pretense. "Please, Daddy, I need you."
He growled—actually growled, a sound that belonged to his dragon nature rather than his human form. "And you'll have me. Every inch, little one. Going to claim you properly, reinforce our bond, make sure you never forget who you belong to."
His mouth crashed into mine with bruising force, and I melted into the kiss instantly.
He tasted of winter stars and forbidden magic, of promises that spanned millennia.
His tongue dominated mine, taking what he wanted, and I gave it gladly.
The kiss was possession and absolution combined, telling me without words that I was forgiven, wanted, cherished despite my transgression.
I moaned into his mouth, my hands clutching at his shoulders, trying to get closer despite already being pressed against him. The heat between my thighs had become unbearable, and I ground down against his erection, seeking relief that I knew only he could provide.
He broke the kiss to trail his lips down my throat, finding that spot where neck met shoulder that made me see stars.
"Going to take you to bed," he murmured against my skin.
"Spread you out on those starlight sheets and worship every inch of you before I claim you.
Going to make you come so many times you forget your own name, only remember mine. "
"Please," I begged, already lost to the promise in his words.
He stood in one fluid motion, lifting me with him as if I weighed nothing. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, pressing my wet core against his abdomen, and we both groaned at the contact. He was already moving toward the bedroom, each step deliberate and filled with intent.
We'd made it three steps when the air in the room suddenly crystallized.
Two figures materialized beside the rocking chair—beings of pure cold given form, all sharp angles and fractal patterns that hurt to look at directly. Ice Elementals. Their forms shifted and reformed constantly, like looking at winter through a shattered mirror.
Sereis went rigid, his arms tightening around me possessively. Through the bond, I felt his fury at the interruption warring with the knowledge that they wouldn't manifest without critical cause.
The Elementals spoke in perfect unison, their voices like breaking glaciers: "Lord Sereis. The traders are ready to confess. Now is the time."
The words hung in the air between us, heavy with implication. Sereis's hands tightened on my body, and I felt the shift in him—the lover giving way to the Dragon Lord, though he didn't put me down.
“My Lady,” Sereis said to me, “take your place by my side. Help me prove my innocence.”