wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I went back to the other part of the conversation. “I don’t want to leave my house. You’re already here a lot.” I shrugged. “It feels like the real problem is that I can’t be a part of your friends. Your social circle.”
“Squatch said you apologized to him?”
“Yeah. At the restaurant. He went to the bathroom, and I followed and waited outside. It felt like I needed to apologize to him personally. It hadn’t been about him, but it got aimed at him, and I regret that.”
“Good call. He appreciated it. The rule is three times what you would have gotten, but that’s for sweetbutts. He’s going to try to convince the membership that a returning ol’lady should only get double. He’s willing to say he was considering twenty-five, and he’ll lobby that the first twenty-five are OTK with my hand, and the final are over the back of the sofa with a belt. It’ll have to be enough to make you cry. You know that.”
He took a breath, and I scented regret, sorrow, and sadness. He wanted this over with, so we could move past it.
“Only full members,” he continued, “any sweetbutts who were present that night, and ol’ladies who were present will be allowed to watch. Or, that’s what we’re hoping to convince the club to vote for.”
“And then I’ll be accepted at the clubhouse like I am at the restaurant?”
“Even more.”
“I need to get used to the idea. Besides, ya’ll haven’t voted on it yet.”
“No, we haven’t, but I need to know you’ll go through with it if we bring it to a vote. If you won’t, it’s best we leave it alone. If they vote on it and you don’t? You won’t get the acceptance you have now at the restaurant.”
That made sense, but I couldn’t tell him anything in that moment. He’d hit me with a lot of information and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.
“I’ll see you Saturday night, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll let you know then.”
“Okay. I’m going to give you the fifty now — twenty-five over my knee and then twenty-five with my belt. Pull your jeans down and bend over my lap.”
I shook my head without even thinking about it. No way.
“This is why we’re doing it now, so you’ll know what you’re in for. Do it, Cheyenne. It wasn’t a request.”
I shook my head again, and he sat back a little. “What’s the problem?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Doesn’t matter if you want to. When it comes to sex and orgasms, I know what you need. We’ve agreed to that, right?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Okay then. Bend over my lap. If you haven’t done it by the time I reach a count of five, you won’t get an orgasm for three days.”
Chapter Fifteen
Frost
My dick swelled when she pushed her jeans to her knees and folded her lithe, supple body over my lap.
The first ten weren’t terribly hard. I’d need to light into her harder off the bat in front of the club, but I’d have her prepped better by then.
I stopped, fingered her, touched the outside of her asshole, teased it, and then went back to spanking her. Harder now — enough she gasped, squirmed, and even yelped a little.
When I hit twenty-five, I smelled her fear and I drank it in. Part of me didn’t like her being afraid, but the sadist inside me fed off it.
I’d never struck her with a belt, and she didn’t know what to expect. She’s smart, so she knew it was going to hurt worse than my hand.
“Okay, my hardheaded little kitten, lean over the back of the sofa and put your hands flat on the seat cushion. Every time you lift both hands, that’s an orgasm you don’t get tonight. You know all those times you were so close but couldn’t, before I came back into your life? I suggest you keep your hands in place.”
I’d denied her from coming a few times when she hadn’t obeyed an order during sex, but I hadn’t gone so far as ritualizing a lost orgasm. I knew she’d lift her hands at least once or twice during her belting, but that was okay — it was time for her to learn what it was like to be tortured with a lost orgasm.
I put a small chalkboard beside her, and a piece of chalk. I can’t stand the way dry erase markers smell.
“I’ll mark down every time you lift your hands, to make sure