Chapter 40
Forty
Lucas
T he paddle hurts a lot fucking more than I expected. But I love it. I want it. I crave it.
I need to feel every ounce of pain that Sadie wants to give me. After only a few smacks of the hardwood against my ass, I’m starting to sweat. With each one, I let out a stifled grunt of pain, but I endure it. There’s pride in endurance.
I’m doing this for me, and for her, and for us.
Getting to feel things from her perspective gives me so much more respect for her. Feeling submissive takes more trust than I had realized, which is why I want her to see just how devoted I am. She can have all of me. Nothing comes before her. Not to me. Not ever.
“Ten, Miss Green,” I mutter with a groan.
Her hand strokes my ass, and I wince from how tender it is already. “How are you feeling?” she asks. “Do we need to pause?”
“No,” I grunt. “More, please.”
She squeezes my ass, and the mixture of pleasure and pain makes my dick jump. It’s hanging stiffly between my legs, and that’s unexpected. I’m almost ashamed of how turned on I am from this. This is supposed to be punishment. I’m not supposed to be enjoying it, but my dick has other plans.
Another smack from the paddle makes me groan from the pain. “Eleven, Miss Green.”
The sting reverberates through my body, never fully dulling before the next hit, so it’s like I’m consumed by the pain. It’s a part of me now.
“Twelve, Miss Green,” I say loudly after the hardest hit of all.
I want to look back at her. I’m desperate to see the look on her face. Is she enjoying this? Is she happy with me? Am I doing enough?
The paddle lands on the bed, and I feel her standing flush behind me. Her hands slide up my thighs and then across my abdomen. She gently nudges me to a standing position, and I feel her protruding stomach against my back, putting space between us.
When her hand finds my cock, I let out a groan.
“You did enjoy that,” she purrs against my back.
“My cock did. Is that bad?” I ask.
“Not at all,” she replies. “What about you? Did you enjoy that?”
“No,” I mumble quietly, hoping it doesn’t disappoint her.
“Good,” she breathes against my back. “And how are you feeling now? Would you like to stop?”
“No,” I say again. “I can take more.”
She squeezes my cock in her hand, and I let out another groan. It’s a tease of pleasure, which just feels like more punishment.
“Good,” she repeats. “I’d like to show you more.”
I want to ask if I take more, will that be enough for her? Will she forgive me and take me back?
The idea of getting my hopes up practically guts me.
Sliding her hands away from my cock, she presses them under my arms and guides them up over my head. The bed has a four- poster canopy, and the bars across the top seem sturdy, which makes sense for the activities that take place here.
“Hold on to the bar,” she commands, and I do. Suddenly, I feel exposed all over again. My back is stretched out, and I know she’s about to hurt me again.
Her body disappears from behind me, and I hear her open the cabinet again. A moment later, I hear a thwack as she slaps the flogger against her hand.
“We’ll do less of these, but if it’s too much, just say stop, and I will. Understand?”
I hesitate. Part of me is excited to feel the pain from this toy. I’m eager to show her how much I can take. For her, she can have it all.
“I understand,” I say on an exhale.
“Good. Are you ready?”
“Yes, Miss Green.”
“We’ll start with six. Don’t forget to count.”
I drag a heavy breath in through my nose, but before my lungs are even full, pain explodes in dull, agonizing fireworks across my back. The sting doesn’t fade at all; it intensifies.
Letting out a loud wince of pain, every muscle in my body tenses, and I squeeze the bar above my head.
“Let me hear you count, Dr. Goode.”
“One, Miss Green,” I groan.
She strokes my back. “That’s it. You’re taking it so well.” When her touch reaches my head, she scrapes her nails against my scalp and I lean into the touch. After she pulls her hand away from my body, I take another breath because I know there will be another strike of the flogger.
The second one is worse than the first. I wince again as the sting scatters across my back in tiny bursts of pain.
“Two, Miss Green,” I say through clenched teeth.
Sweat drips down my spine, and my blood feels like lava in my veins. It’s strange how the pain tingles through every inch of me, throbbing like pleasure but stinging like torture .
Sadie lets out a grunt of exertion as she hits me again. My head falls backward as I breathe through the pain, this time letting it flow through me instead of fighting against it.
“Three, Miss Green,” I say breathlessly.
“How are you doing?” she asks with concern. Her fingers trail over the raw, battered skin of my back, but I groan in appreciation of her touch.
“Good,” I sigh.
“We can take a break.”
I shake my head. “No. Keep going.”
The last thing I want right now is a break. I want to ride this wave and see where it goes.
“Okay,” she replies. With another grunt, she hits me again. I can’t tell if she put more into it or if I’m just that sore, but it stings the worst.
Then my mind goes to a really strange place. Images of our church flash through my mind. A man on the cross. My father’s words about sacrifice and sin. He spoke about a pain I couldn’t understand. Love I couldn’t fathom.
And it’s ridiculous, but as the pain Sadie serves me flows through me, I feel this overwhelming presence that brings tears to my eyes. Fuck, it’s not God, but it’s something . Maybe it’s me. Maybe it’s her. But it’s like my eyes have been opened, and I see colors that didn’t exist a moment ago. Enlightenment by way of flogger. I didn’t know that was a thing, but right now, I’m drowning in it.
“Lucas,” she whispers. Her fingers touch my face, wiping moisture from my cheeks.
When I peel my eyes open, I stare at her in this room that looks like heaven.
“Four, Miss Green,” I whisper.
“That’s enough. We’re stopping,” she says as she tries to pull my hands from the bars.
“No,” I blurt out angrily. “More. Please. ”
“I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” she says, and her voice shakes with pain.
“You’re not hurting me,” I reply. I hardly recognize my own voice from the rasp and gravelly tone in it. “You’re healing me.”
Her brow furrows as she stares at me. It sounds absurd and a little cheesy, but it’s true. I need my penance. I want to feel it again.
“Are you sure?” she whispers.
“Yes. I’m begging you.”
Before she picks up the flogger, she stands on her tiptoes and kisses my lips. I want to hold her, but I refuse to let go of this bar until my punishment is over.
After the kiss, she moves behind me.
“Don’t hold back,” I mutter under my breath.
And she doesn’t. The next hit hurts the worst out of all of them. I don’t scream or wail. I breathe through the pain, letting it burn through my mind and body. I see red behind my eyelids and it’s beautiful. Warm copper strands of auburn dancing in my vision like hair strewn over my eyes.
“Five, Miss Green,” I rasp.
It’s excruciating, but I almost don’t want it to stop. I feel changed. Renewed. A new, more whole version of myself born from the broken pieces of who I used to be.
“Last one,” she whispers. And like the good girl she is, she gives it her all. With a roaring sound, she hits me so hard that I nearly tumble forward. My grip on the bar burns as fire spreads like tendrils over my flesh.
This time, I can’t hold it in. I let out a wail as the adrenaline courses through me. All of my senses are heightened as the pain dulls into a throbbing sensation across my back.
I hear the flogger hit the floor as Sadie climbs onto the bed in front of me. Her warm arms wrap around my middle, her hard stomach pressed against mine, and her soft lips peppering the surface of my neck.
I’m breathing heavily, still hanging from the bar, as she kisses me. When her mouth finds mine, she tries to kiss her way into my mouth, and I finally let go of the bar to hold her. But my body is heavier and more spent than I realized. So I practically fall into her, but she holds me up.
“Six, Miss Green,” I mumble against her shoulder, and she laughs with her lips against my cheek.
“You did so good,” she says with a smile. “Come lie down now.”
I blink open my eyes as she pulls me toward the head of the bed. “On your stomach,” she says comfortingly.
With a sigh, I collapse onto the bed. It’s softer than I expected so I sink into the mattress with my face in the pillow. My cock is still hard, pressed between my body and the bed, but I’m not doing anything about that right now. With everything my body just experienced, my cock hardly matters.
I had no idea pain could feel so good. Don’t get me wrong; it still hurt. It was still awful, but it was also incredibly powerful. Like a few lashes of pain unleashed all of the adrenaline and endorphins in my body, more potent than the heaviest drug.
I feel the bed dip a moment before Sadie’s warm hands stroke the tender skin of my back. It takes me a moment to realize she’s wiping something on me. I lift my head to see what she’s doing.
“It’s a salve,” she explains. “It will help with bruising.”
Bruising? Why the fuck would I care about bruising? It felt like my body was being cracked open and torn apart. A few bruises are nothing. But the nurturing movement of her hands on my flesh is nice, and I feel like I might fall asleep.
Once she’s done, she comes back a moment later with a thick, warm blanket, and she drapes it over my naked body. Then, her face comes into view, and she wipes mine with a soft cloth.
“How are you feeling?” she whispers.
I reply with a grunt and a nod, hoping it conveys what I’m feeling, which doesn’t have any discernible words to describe it. Good. Bad. Tired. Refreshed. I guess those would do, although they don’t make much sense .
“Would you like me to leave you alone?” she asks, and I lift my head from the pillow.
“What? No.” I lift a hand to reach for her.
“Okay, I’m just making sure. Some people like alone time during aftercare,” she says.
“Sadie, just please get the fuck over here.”
With a smirk on her face, she crawls onto the bed and lies next to me on her side, facing me. I hook an arm around her leg and tug her closer. She scoots onto my pillow until our faces are inches apart. My hand rests on her hip as I stare into her eyes.
We don’t speak for a moment. It feels like the punishment scrambled up everything. Like it picked us up in one place and dropped us in another. I forgot what I wanted to say an hour ago.
But as she strokes my face and stares lovingly into my eyes, it doesn’t feel like we need to say anything at all.
Eventually, two words find their way to my lips, and they’re simple and poignant enough to cover the rest.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur.
“It’s okay,” she replies. “I know you are.”
“I was stupid.”
“No, you weren’t,” she says, stroking my cheek.
“Yes, I was,” I reply. “Your brother told me so.”
She freezes. “What? Jonah called you stupid?”
I smile as I nod. “Yes, but rightfully so.”
“You’re not stupid, Lucas.”
Tugging her closer, I press my lips to hers. “Not anymore.”
She deepens the kiss, hugging her body close to mine. I am more at peace than I’ve ever been in my life. This doesn’t resolve everything between us—not even close. But it feels like we’ve expressed so much with our actions tonight.
I am forgiven.
I am hers.