Page 12 of Deep Cover

The way he said that discipline would be an inescapably important component to my recovery.

And told me to turn around, take down my jeans and panties.

To bend over the bed.

To count but otherwise not to make a sound.

I only stared at him long enough for him to get to two on a count I had no doubt would end badly at three.

Then I turned, and pulled down my jeans and panties, and leaned over the bed. Because I couldn't lose the life I loved.

And because, maybe I had just found one addiction to replace the other and I didn't know yet how I felt about that. But Jesse's fist slamming into the pillow, his cock burying itself in me, and Mark's irritating gentleness and my own growing need, they all exploded in me until I complied, turning, half naked, vulnerable, listening as he wound the belt around his fist.

As it split the air with a sound I could never fake or mistake or forget.

There was the first impossible explosion of pain as the belt tore across my ass.

And a new version of deep cover began.

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