the paddle, and he picks it up, swinging it side to side like he’s warming up. His hand reaches out and strokes Lilac down her spine gently.
“We’re going to start with twelve. If you need a break, you know what to say.”
“Yes, sir,” she whispers, a quiver to her voice.
“What does she say?” I ask, and I almost feel bad breaking the scene a little, but Ellis only looks up at me with a delicate smile on his face.
“Lilac’s safe word is trust.”
Safe word. Of course, there’s a safe word, but something about him saying that sends a lightning bolt of excitement up my spine. This is really fucking happening.
“Count for me, Lilac.”
“Yes, sir,” she says, and I watch as she lets out a big exhale, her shoulders relaxing almost as if she doesn’t want to tense up as he takes his first swing. The immediate smack of the paddle against the bare skin of her ass makes me flinch, and my eyes dash over to him. Lilac lets out on a small gasp, and I watch her pale skin turn pink almost immediately.
“One,” she says with more composure and calmness than I’d expect. I mean, yeah, I get she signed up for this and literally asked for it, but fuck, that sounded like it hurt.
When he swings a second time, it’s lighter, but the smack still echoes through the room.
“Two,” she says with no real change to her voice.
By five, her counting sounds strangled, and her cries are louder, almost like she can’t take it anymore. There’s a part of me that wants her to use the safe word, tell him to stop. She’s clearly in pain and I can hear that it hurts like a bitch, but she doesn’t. Instead, she hangs from the bed posts and counts like he told her to.
It’s around nine when I realize my eyes are no longer on Lilac. They’re on him. With each swing, some soft and some hard, his determination captures me. Every single movement is intentional, controlled, and complicit. We both pulled off our shirts when we first came in the room, and my eyes get caught for a moment on the veins of his forearm with every swing and smack of the paddle. There’s a heaving to his chest, and an evil-looking delight in his eyes as he inflicts the pain.
I’m so caught up in what I’m seeing I hardly notice my dick is trying to bust out of these pants like it’s fucking Shawshank Redemption down there.
It’s not like I’m naive to this shit. I used a belt on Zara for fuck’s sake, but this is different. It’s so intentional, and watching him has my body reacting in ways I did not see coming.
When I hear her say “twelve” in a strangled sob, I realize Ellis is looking at me, or rather, he catches me looking at him. Then his gaze travels down to my crotch to see the very obvious erection in my pants. When our eyes meet again, it’s charged, a special glint in his eye.
“It’s your turn,” he announces as he strokes Lilac’s hair, his hand traveling all the way down to her bare ass which is now painted red. She’s breathing heavy, her posture sagging, but she doesn’t protest or say her safe word. “Lilac wants another round, don’t you, my little flower?”
“Yes, sir,” she whispers. He climbs up next to her, kissing her on the mouth, and I see her reaction in every little movement of her body. The way it tilts toward him like a magnet, so eager and desperate for his attention, and I get a twinge of something like jealousy in my stomach.
He climbs down and hands the paddle to me. “She’s ready for you.”
I don’t even know this girl. Sure, I’ve fucked plenty of girls I didn’t know, maybe even spanked a few, but this is different. Still, I take the paddle and look at Lilac. Mostly, I feel his eyes on me, his arms crossed over his bare chest, and I want to do this right.
Squeezing the leather wrapped handle, I take my first swing, back-handed and holding back, but not too much. Lilac lets out a beautiful cry as my spine erupts with some sensation I’ve never felt before. It skitters across the skin of my arms as I paddle her again. I’m only aware of two things while I take her from panting to all-out gasping for breath. One, Ellis is watching me. His eyes