When sorority pledge, Addison Montgomery, gets caught chucking eggs at a mansion at the demand of her sisters on Halloween, she's punished by the rich man’s son, Logan, a hot junior at her college, and they get swept up in the delicious power exchange and a tumultuous squall of passion. But where it leads may be way too hot for them to handle.

* * * *
I loved being across Logan Thorndike’s lap. I loved the feel of his hands on me, and the slaps, again and again, on the surface of my cheeks. I loved being punished for my naughtiness, in this way, especially by him. I bet it will be even better when he bares my bottom. Will he yank or slide my panties off? Or will he make me stand and ask me to pull them down, right in front of these pervy poker players? Any of those scenarios made me burn hot.

As he kept going and going, stings sprouted everywhere and lingered, and they still bit when he returned to meet them again. The sore spots and a lovely, blossoming heat merged into a web of extreme sensitivity across my whole backside. I grinned, picturing the blushing hue he was creating.

“Addison...You’ve been so bad today...and I’m not really sure...how long this butt bashing will last...or how much I will deliver...but I expect…a lot...so it is very...important...for you to get...this warm-up...Do you understand?”

Warm-up? What the... It was actually starting to hurt now, to get really uncomfortable. I was squirming and wincing, now tensing up for the blows. This was a warm-up? He stopped spanking me and was back to the massages and soft tickles. They still felt good. For now, even with the stings, any touch on my butt felt spectacular.

I gasped when he slid fingers under the lacy edge of my panties. He stopped right at the top of my crack. He was going to touch me! Fuck yes! Do it. Maybe he was waiting for some objection from me since this wasn’t part of our deal, but hell, no, I’m not stopping him. I was done with being an angel stuck at second due to wimpification rather than shyness or some standard of morality urging me to be good. I knew I was bad, and I was always terrified to discover exactly how bad. But the ravenous hunger Logan was stirring up devoured every morsel of my anxiety, and my suppressed slut was tumbling out, all free and colorful and filthy. Astonishingly, I didn’t hate her one bit.

Touch me, touch me. I aaahhhed and shivered as he slowly swiped between my cheeks. Yes, yes. He followed the line down and pressed the pad of his index finger against my anus. Mmm. He waited again. Silence from me. His middle and ring fingers circled around the entrance of my dripping sex, gathering my juice, especially when he went further than that and slid them in. Mmm, fuck. I trapped a moan behind my lips, but it still sounded like I’d just eaten the most scrumptious cookie in the world. Ohmygod, wow. Ah, spanked, now, groped? One thing left. I should not be craving that, not with a stranger, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. He was very, um, skillful. I’d think any naughty girl like me would be yearning for the same thing. Could those men hear the sloshing I heard when he started sliding in and out? Though I’d wanted his fingers to be doing everything they were doing, I was still embarrassed at being caught so wet and also frustrated because he wasn’t shoving those magical massagers in as deeply as they could go. I wanted to buck up into his hand and swallow his fingers whole. I wanted the impaling to be so much faster, so that his pinky knuckle was punching me hard.

He tsked at me. “Shameful. I expected as much. Someone here is much naughtier than I thought. You’re getting turned on by this, Addison? At getting spanked like a school girl in front of a handful of witnesses? Do you like everyone knowing and seeing what a bad girl you are?”

“No.”

“No? What do you think, men?” He pulled his hand out, showing off the evidence of my blatant lie. Damn.

“She shouldn’t be getting turned on,” one said. “You’re not being harsh enough. Quit with the warm fuzzies and boy scout slaps. I’m tempted to do it myself. You should be whaling on her.”

Idiot. I looked back over my shoulder at them, seething all hot-faced, what did they know, and spotted the gorilla butler in the doorway. Wonderful. He was probably stiff too.

“Yeah, spank her ass good,” Gappy said.

“This should not be a pleasurable experience for you, my dear,” his father said. “Get on with the real punishment, Logan.”

I couldn’t believe they were objecting to any of this.

“I know how to discipline a bad girl,” Logan roared. “This bad girl. I know what she needs. Back the hell off!”

What? I beamed at his words. Not even the richest chocolate in the world could compare to those treats he’d just given me. He knows what I need. This stranger knows what I need. Exactly! I knew it.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair, jerked my head up to the side and held his sticky fingers, drenched with the evidence of my arousal, out to me. “Suck it off, you filthy brat.”

Uh, ohmygod, my vaginal walls throbbed to be nailed and used and unwound with an earth-shattering orgasm. Once I licked him clean, as sexily as possible, he released my hair and let me fall back into position. With them urging him on, I should’ve been expecting it, but I went back to fondling ‘THIS bad girl’ in my mind, that’s ME!!!—so his first, proper spank fell so hard on my sweet spot, it stunned me and snatched my breath. I let out a shrill sob, followed by an, “Ow, fuck!”

“Watch your mouth.”

I braced myself and tensed when the next two came on each sit spot.

He ordered me to relax.

I did manage to sink back onto his legs with a lengthy exhale, but I kept my eyes shut tight.

And then, more spanks, forceful and fast, came crashing into my ass, again and again and again. Okay, I was no longer loving this as much. Each pop on my skin rocked me forward, nearly hurtling me off his lap. “Ow, ow.” I squirmed against him and reached my hand back to rub out the dreadful sting, and he clutched my flighty grabber and pinned it to my back. The feeling of instability returned to me, with only one arm free to brace myself against the floor.

“No, no … Wrong move. You know you need to learn this lesson and suffer sufficient pain and embarrassment to let go and feel free and absolved.”

Yes, I do! How’d you know that?

“Brace yourself, little devil. We’re kicking this up several notches. This needs to hurt so badly, it cuts into your soul.” He stopped and yanked my panties up into my crack, creating a thong, exposing more of my butt flesh to the peepers. He tugged up several times, pulling the lace wonderfully along all my wet hills and valleys. Mmm.

Then he was back at it, slap ... slap ... slap, and the spanking continued, with no end in sight. His hand must be killing him by now. He went on and on for about ten minutes, stopping only four times to massage me for a bit. How much longer could he keep it up? I was crying so hard and biting my lip.

“One more minute, and I’ll let you rest up, and we’ll move onto the next phase.”

Minute? Phase? There were phases to this? I’m sure my ass was good and candy apple red already. This was hurting like hell. I blubbered when I realized I had at least, at least, 60 spanks to go, but I stopped with a gasp when I felt his rigid cock poking into my hip. I was so tempted to grind into it but expected that would only lengthen this punishment. He certainly didn’t have me here, butt-over-head, to play or get nasty. But, I clearly wasn’t the only bad one here, the only one in heat. Knowing that brought me back into a state of pleasure, made me focus on the task at hand. I felt like I’d had all I could take, but I wanted a little bit more. I wanted him to stretch me, push me past what I thought I could possibly stand. I’m not sure what awaited me there, on the other side, but I longed for him to drag me there by my hair. This last minute was no picnic. Kicking it up indeed! He spanked me more forcefully than previously, in fact.

I was spent. Falling even more lax against his legs, I sniveled and lazily kicked to try and expel some of the burn. I said, “Fuck,” once and shouted out horrific wails on each of his last five spanks, the hardest ones in the swarm. I tensed up, waiting and waiting for another.

“What did I say about watching your mouth?” He planted the hardest smack of all and I jolted. “We are finished with this.”

Thank god. Uh, thank god.

Overcome with a lovely soaking of release, I kept crying. Mmm. I felt cleansed and un-bad. I did it. I broke through. And I was thrilled-to-the-bone, believing that I pleased him. But at the same time, I felt sad because who knew when I might receive such a beautiful gift again. I was furious at my fleeting sense of gratefulness that this was over. Now, I wanted the pain back. I wanted the stings and the heat and an unending stream of slaps. Hit me, hit me, please don’t stop. Logan gently stroked and rubbed my back, sore bottom and thighs and let me lament on his lap for several minutes. I was mostly crying because I missed him already. Tomorrow promised a hellish separation from his strong hands and muscular hold.

When I calmed, he stood me up, and, noticing the obvious weakness in my legs and dizziness from the blood rushing from my head, he wrapped his arm around my back to steady me. His fingertips brushed up and down along my side. I rested my cheek against his collar bone. He reached up with his other hand and wiped my tears. “You’re doing great. We’re almost done. Now, stand up on the couch and bend over the back.”

I stepped back. “Logan,” I whined in protest.

“You will do it.”

Of course I will. Something had to better than nothing, even if it was extreme and promised the use of an implement. I sniffed my runny nose and nodded. I pulled the straps down on my red heels and kicked each one off, then climbed up on the couch and did as he requested.

He knelt behind me again and flipped up the skirt of my babydoll. He hooked his fingertips on the strings of my panties and gingerly, slowly peeled them over my butt and down my thighs, leaving them to rest at the edges of my white socks that stopped just above the knee.

A slow, sexy peel, aaahhh, lovely, Logan. My top pick for a strip.

But I groaned as the sick feeling of abashment rushed into my stomach and head.

Logan ran his soft hands up my thighs, took my cheeks in both hands and rubbed and squeezed. I cried out at the pleasure-pain. “Mmm. Reddened flesh. Such a pretty color on you. Legs apart. I want you to keep your wet, lacy panties right where I left them.”

Knees wobbling against the cushions, I spread open for him. Since I was being punished, I did not expect the slow lick he passed over my hot, puffy petals, and I gasped loudly and bolted upright.

He smacked my thigh and barked, “Uh uh, back down.”

When I did as he commanded, he scaled my body and leaned over the couch with me. His weight rested on top of me and the rough texture of his jeans cut into my sore bottom. I was so aware of his hidden package, rock hard and pressing into the divide between my cheeks. He ground into me, making sure I felt it. Yeah, I felt it indeed.

He grabbed my face, turned my head and whispered in my ear. “You are so naughty, Addison, loving far too much of this. Do you know, with you bent over like this, smashed up against the couch to push more of it back, that your bad girl pussy is exposed? And as soon as I move to get an implement, every one of these rich dudes will see it … your glistening, wet, swollen, pink pussy. I am so turned on, so fucking hard. You feel that? I’m hard, knowing how embarrassed and hot that’ll make you.”

Aaaahhh, ohmygod. He ignited an inferno inside that I didn’t even know was attainable.

“Get on with it, Logan,” his father said. “Stop playing around.”

I was placid putty in his hands and he knew it. I loved that he gave me a little private speech, a delectable, yet sadly true message, just between us. It did the opposite of what he might have intended and chased every speck of my shame away. I was hotter than ever and dripping like a leaky faucet.

He left a tugging bite on my earlobe, pulled up and away from me and stepped off the couch. His shoes clacked toward the back of the room. I was afraid to look up. The men muttered quietly among themselves at the view. I had no clue what he was doing or what this next “phase” entailed.

My legs shook from a turn-on like I’d never experienced, because of how he spoke to me and what he said, because of how hard he was at my dirty mind, because of this embarrassing exposure he knew I’d love. I never thought I’d enjoy such a thing. If I think about the present company, especially Geoffrey, it makes me a little sick actually. I’m not really an exhibitionist, or I didn’t think so, but this flashing predicament with Logan at the helm and them watching it unfold twanged me like a twisted, guilty pleasure. My labia was swollen and soaked because of Logan’s handiwork, and delight fondled my insides at getting to show off the results. I’m so bad. Could they see the tears of joy slipping down?

At his absence, a chill floated over me like a bed sheet. I liked the feel of his body on me, the weight, all his hard places pushing against my cushy ones. I swooned and moaned quietly at the thought of being under him someday, hell, right now. Me. Taking all his furious, forceful thrusts. I wanted him so bad, I didn’t even care if these dudes witnessed the ceremonial cherry popping. I wanted, no, I craved for him to be my first lay. This guy. Who knew me so entirely with one look. I reminded myself he was a stranger, that sexing him up him should be the last thing on my mind, but in that first eye-to-eye, we exchanged so many secrets, so much of our souls. It made me want to bare it all, to give in to him and have him know every inch of my body just as well. I did not know how that was possible, how I could feel like I’d known him forever, how I could feel such deep affection and burning lust for him. I adored him. There was no one in the world I felt more connected to, and that made me cry, because it was just so pitiful and pathetic. I didn’t even know this guy at all. And here I was thinking about fucking him and praying he’d just hold me forever.

He could have a girlfriend.

Or worse ... a sub.

Logan was back behind me on the couch. Something roundish and wooden tapped me three times, then crashed into my ass. I screeched.

The doorbell rang.

A break. I sighed. Logan would wait for Geoff to delve out the candy. Um, no, he didn’t wait for them to leave! I bellowed when wood struck my flesh again, twice in quick succession. He didn’t even let me catch my breath.

I cried out, “Ooowww, aahhh.”

Another one fell and I groaned out a wavy sob.

“Ohmygod! Is someone being spanked?” a young voice cried in fright.

“Indeed,” Geoffrey replied. “A young lady was caught throwing eggs at the house. She is being punished right now.”

A boy said, “See? I told you we should never do that. That we could get our butts whooped. Let’s get out of here!”

I shouted out as he hit me once more. Blood was already pooling in my face from being upside down, but it and my pink tulip went totally ablaze. All my breaths were huffs.

“Everyone can see what a bad thing you did, Addison. Sixteen more with the ping pong paddle.”

Sixteen? Good god. I started to blubber. Could I take sixteen? I’d have to.

He smacked the blurry line where thigh meets cheek, where it already stung the most, and alternated back and forth. Each hit felt like spikes driving into my flesh.

I pressed my lips in and scrunched my face, but I decided to relax my bottom as the remaining blows were delivered. I was out of breath when he was only half way done.

I whimpered at each blow, and let out a shuddering sob when they finally tallied up.

He rubbed my back as he let me stay there for a few minutes. “One more phase, Addison.”

“One more?” I sniveled.

“Yes. You can do it. Take it all … like bad medicine.”

I was blubbering as he tugged me up by the hand and pulled my head to his chest. My skirt flitted back down and my underwear spilled around my ankles. I loved the sound of his heartbeat, the scent of his skin. He stroked my hair. I wanted to scratch off his skirt and munch on his pecs and abs that looked so skillfully sculpted. I placed my hand over his heart, just so I’d have an excuse to touch muscle. His tribal percussion beat wildly against palm. Mmm. Naughty, naughty, Logan. I had to mentally fight my hand to not travel down and do much wilder things.

“Kick your panties off your feet. Gentlemen, we’ll be right back.”

I did as he asked, and he walked my bare ass to the door and into the gallery. He shut the door behind him. I scrunched my nose in confusion. What the heck were we doing?

Geoffrey was in the gallery, rushing back to check in on my butt-blasting, no doubt. He was mask free for the moment and dripping with sweat, his black, wet hair sticking every which way. His body odor curled my toes and made my nose crinkle and beg for a coffee bean reset.

“Geoffrey! Get back to your post and suit up.”

He shot darts with his eyes and grumbled before choking out a huffy, “Yes, Sir.”

When the gorilla left eyeshot, Logan backed me into the wall with delicate digits against my spiraling tummy. My heart sped when he drew close to me, his chest stopping a few inches from mine. His left arm arched over me on the wall as he leaned in. Logan’s lips looked so kissable, soft and delicious. My god, was he actually going to plant them on me? Electric sparks simmered beneath my skin, and they fluttered up to my face and down to my unpopped cherry. I felt hotter and hotter as I held his intense gaze, until I was boiling with need.

“Third phase is your choice,” he whispered all husky. His touch at my abdomen drifted down, down, until he was skimming across my thigh, whisking back and forth, then it began dancing, floating, rising, ever so softly, right under the hem of my flimsy skirt. He never lost contact with my skin or gaze during the glorious ascent.

Breaths skipped out of my nostrils in double time. My lungs were on fire, hot and raspy with want, and my lips felt parched, drawing out a stroke of my tongue.

“Seven hundred and twenty-six,” he muttered.

“Mmm, what?”

“Including hundreds of playfully delivered warm-up slaps, that’s where we’re at.”

“Oh. You counted? Wow, that’s a lot.”

“Indeed. That’s way more than I expected to give you.” His chickadee wings finally reached their destination, stopping and curling right under my soaked flower. “And look what we have here.”

I gasped when two fingers drew lines along my flesh.

He tsked and said, “Syrup on tap, even more than when I last checked.” Logan gently stroked the folds of my slit and covered my mouth with his other hand, shielding a moan when he edged the entrance with little circles. “Shhh, bad girl. How many spanks does it take to make an impact on a spanko who’s loving every minute of her punishment?”

I shrugged, but it morphed into a shiver when the breeze from the opened front door tickled my body and bitch-slapped the internal heat that was so close to consuming me.

“Neither do I. You’ve cried, sure, but not because you’re sorry. The truth is right here.” He looked down on the fondling action and back up, reclaiming my hypnotized stare. I was captivated and awestruck by the autumn in his eyes. “Want me to stop?”

Fuck no. His hand still blocking my lips, I shook my head side to side.

“Didn’t think so.” He released my mouth, placing his curled hand back over my head, but his other touch, building now, had me drowning in desire.

I quivered and clamped my jaw to kill the wild groan of ecstasy rushing along my tongue, as he thrust up inside me and finger-fucked me in the hallway while kids were getting treats right around the corner. I closed my eyes and lolled against the wall.

“Mmm, you’re so juicy.” He pressed his upper body closer until his lips were tickling my ear. His furious pulse was maddening against my boobs.

God, how I wanted this man. My eyes opened wide when I realized I’d hooked my fingers into his waistband and pulled his pelvis closer. I dropped my hand and raked my nails, accidentally I think, but not regrettably, against the restrained bulge that was still too far away from me.

“Naughty girl.” As he glided his fingers up into me, again and again, he inhaled deeply, his nose right on my skin. All of his touches flared twangy ribbons of energy through my body. “Speaking of juicy … you smell like peach. Not fake peach, real peach, ripe, succulent and sweet, ready to be eaten. It’s such a surprising scent for the dead of fall. Your shampoo or your body spray. Or maybe … it’s just you. Wanna know what I think, Luscious?”

He pulled back from me, but I was a puddle now, still tingling on my ear and in my well of passion. He stopped moving his hand but stayed buried inside me. I cursed my cunt as it squeezed at the desired intrusion of its own volition, begging him to resume that scorching slide. Could I be more slutty?

“I think your face should get redder than that ass and that embarrassment should linger in your gut for days, so much so, that you don’t even have to recall the event, it’s just there, constantly biting at your bits and making you burn. I think your stomach and legs should tremble so much, you’re convinced they’ve turned to Jell-O. I think you should whimper and cry deep in your soul because I made you feel like the bad girl you are. And I think you should, at the end of it all, feel totally absolved and repentant. I can make that happen. You shouldn’t be here getting your kinky kicks for free on my dime. I can punish you right, but you’d have to follow me into the darkness and do exactly as I ask. It wouldn’t be pretty. That’s option one. Or you can take the safer road and let me top you off at eight hundred with my hand, or a hairbrush perhaps, and you can leave here, knowing you didn’t get the punishment you truly deserved.” He took his hand off my mouth, slid out of my truth and slowly sucked my blabbermouth juice off his fingers. My loins jolted and ached. He ran his tongue across his fucking awesome lower lip, and I could smell my arousal on him, all spicy sweet. “Mmm. You are the peach. If I took a ripened slice, dipped it in butter and sugar and gave it a sprinkle of salt and pepper, it wouldn’t be as delectable, but it would be very close to the taste of you. Eating you out would surely be a heavenly experience, but only real angels deserve such a fun reward. You are here for punishment. Choose your poison.”

I clutched a fistful of his T-shirt and looked him dead in the eye as I breathed out, “Punish me … as you see fit.”

His eyes squinted, stealing the flames of Eros, and his breath hitched up to tango with mine. He was turned on, inspired, thrilled by my pick. He waited three seconds for me to change my mind, but I kept my trap shut. “There’s no backing out.”

“I made my choice and will hold to it.”

“Very well.” He clutched my arm and escorted me back into the game room. The gawkers stopped muttering amongst themselves, their attention drawn back to the spectacle of me. “We’re almost done then. Lay down on the ottoman.”

I set my knee on the 4' x 4' leather square and he clutched by arm. “No. On your back.”

“What? Why?” I shuddered as he let go of me, unbuckled his belt and jerked it out of the loops. Seriously? My butt couldn’t take much more. And he was going to belt me? Though I did all but tell him to ‘bring it’, I fell to pieces.

“Well, you’ve been corrected for the eggs and disruptions, but you still need to be punished for dressing so slutty and for cursing when I told you not to. Since you’re practically naked, sharing far too much of your body with the public, you are going to show off more and be spanked in the most exposing, most humiliating position. Now … get on your back.”

I still had absolutely no clue what he meant. What position? I followed his instructions and got on my back, thighs flat on the ottoman, knees bent at the edge. He set his knee beside me and began drawing my bent legs up toward my chest. Oh my freaking god. I now knew what he meant. Shit, shit. There’d be no escape from their gazes with me like this. And with me balder than Charlie Brown right now, they’d see everything. Every—thing. I guess that was the point. Yeah, I was hot in the face and gooey inside and begging him for another way with my pleading, prickling eyes. Like this? Really? He wasn’t joking about darkness, about burning!

“Please.” Sobs tripped out of me and tears finally fell, rolling into my hair.

He slid fingers through my hair and mouthed, “You know you need this.” He pressed my bent knees up to my ears. “Very good. Wrap your arms around and hold your legs here, steady. I don’t want to see them drop at all. If you do, I will add to your lashes.” He dragged his index finger up and down my crack and over my hole, wet slit and clit. “Yes, Addison. We can all see the entirety of your wet pussy and your cute little backdoor, especially since you were so thoughtful to remove all your pubes.”

I cried in embarrassment.

“Bad, bad girl. You’re due five on your bottom in this humiliating, tell-all position.”

He doubled the belt, flung his arm back and whipped it down on me, landing with a crack that shot through the room.

I yowled and bucked up, letting go of my legs.

“Make that six. Hold your legs.”

“I’m trying.” I whimpered, clutched tighter, waiting for the belt strike.

It came swiftly and I screamed. “Ow, ow.”

“Four more.”

He fired two fierce lashes in a row, not letting me catch my breath.

I sobbed and shook. I was exhausted and prayed for the next two to be over, but this phase totally worked. I did feel bad for my actions, as well as foolish and sorry for chucking the eggs and dressing like a whore, all to impress my crazy House. And Logan had known how much I needed that revelation.

He tapped me, rubbed the belt over me teasingly and made me wait at least thirty seconds between blows. The last lick felt like it cut me or something and I shrieked. The smart it left behind had me bawling.

I went to get up, and he said, “Not yet.”

“Aren’t we done? I thought it was over. You said six. And I really do feel sorry now.”

“I said on your bottom. There’s still the matter of you getting turned on by all this. I think your betraying pussy deserves three.”

“Logan, please,” I cried.

“This is entirely optional, Addison. You can bow out and be done, just say the word. But I think your pretty bits could use a little jolt for being so aroused during a correction? Do you? Can your conscience be free without it?”

“No ... it can’t. I’ve been dirty and deserve the punishment you see fit for me. Give me three, Sir.”

He hesitated on replying, only a wavy huff escaping his lips. Maybe he was surprised by my answer. Who in the world would choose to take pussy slaps with a belt over getting up? Me. Miss Sicko Freak Spankazoid, that’s who. “Okay. Keep your bent knees up, but reach down between your legs now and pull your outer lips apart.”

Though I agreed, I wasn’t looking forward to the belt smashing into me, but the calmness and release to my soul I knew would there at the end magnetized me like a moth to light. I needed this. Badly. I was sniveling, nearly convulsing. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I did as he commanded, spread myself open to peering eyes and ultimate vulnerability. My poor, aroused clit was unhooded and erect. It was right there. Exposed for the bite of leather. I didn’t even really care about the onlookers, only the impending pain … the pain I deserved.

Logan unfolded the belt, grabbed it in the middle, brought it up only a foot over me and slapped it down, striking my sensitive bud, my wet, pink parts and butt crack. The long lasher covered so much area. I jerked and bellowed in an automatic response, expecting extreme agony, but he didn’t hit me even close to full force, it was just a slap that didn’t hurt as badly as I thought. My cry felt like an overreaction. He’d given me a little jolt like he said, and I was amazed at how much I loved it, at how pleasurable that measured pain felt. Oh, wow. This was a naughty girl’s punishment, and I was so very naughty. When he hit my alerted sex again, I became soaked anew, and that time, with the expectation of pleasure, I moaned out a hooker’s cry like a cat in heat. Fuck. This felt so, so good. My whole body quaked, my asshole winked, and my vagina ached for release with the last strike. Hit me, hit me. I might have been smiling, I don’t know. I was on the inside. I waited and waited.

Logan suddenly dropped the belt to the floor and clutched my arm, tugging me up. “Get up.”

I stood and settled my skirt with a shimmy. “Don’t we have one more? Do you want me to turn around?”

“You’ve had enough. You’ve made restitution. To wrap this up, I want you to go over to that corner, press your nose into it and lift your nightie so your punished bottom can be on display as these men recommence their game. You did well.” He pulled a small tube of cream out of his back pocket and handed it to me. “Here. This will help ease the searing pain. You may leave in ten minutes. Goodnight, Addison.”

I looked at the tube in shock and back up at him. “Wait. What?”

“You’ve been punished enough. I’ll hire the crew I did last year to clean it up. Goodnight.” He pushed his gaze away from me toward the men. “Gentlemen, I do hope you will use discretion and keep this matter to yourselves. She has paid her due in full. It has been resolved. No further shame or disgrace should come to her.” He snatched up his belt and slid it back into the loops as he left the room without even so much as a glance back.

Embers stung my eyes. What the hell just happened? I wanted to take all three. But he stopped. Why? Did I not please him with my compliance, with my surrender? I had been right on the brink of coming too. And then, he stopped. I felt deserted and used as I went to stand corner, especially in having to apply this stupid cream myself. He couldn’t even do that? Touch me soothingly me for fifteen seconds? What the hell was his problem! This was nothing but a punishment to him, that’s what! And he came downstairs, with the shoes and the belt and the cream, prepared for my pick. I foolishly assumed it was more, like a bonding experience or something, and definitely, an erotic one. We had a moment in the hall! He fingered me into another stratosphere. I assumed that choice had been a test, that maybe he was considering keeping me around. Did I not pass? Apparently not!

I chucked the tube on the floor when I was done rubbing my own sore ass. Logan left a gouge in my soul. I didn’t want the peepers to hear me cry, so I did it as quietly as possible, though I was so close to wailing. He just … left me. After all that! After he pulled me out. He had to know. And how crushing this would be to me. How could he? That, this … was oddly, the worst punishment of all.