“That’s an understatement,” I grumble, shifting on his lap.
“Sass will also not be tolerated during correction, understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
His hand crashes down against my ass. Despite the yelp flinging from my lips, I can’t deny how turned on I am. The bite of pain, the caress from his hand, all of it coalesces into a twisting, burning need. As the cry of displeasure dies out, it trails off into the most wanton moan.
“What was that?” he growls, digging his fingers into my ass cheek.
“Sorry. Yes, Daddy.”
“Very good. Count out your punishment.”
Smack.
“One. Thank you, Daddy,” I sob out, gripping his pants as the sting skitters along my nerves.
Smack
“Two.” My voice warbles now as emotion wells up to the surface, taking me by surprise. “Thank you, Daddy.”
Smack
“Three!” This time, tears flow from my eyes, even though the pain isn’t really that unbearable. “Thank you, Daddy.”
Smack
“F- four. Thank you, Daddy.”
Smack
Smack
Smack
Smack
The last four hit in quick succession where my ass meets my thighs. I scream out in discomfort and twist about, but he holds me firm, not letting me go anywhere. Tears flow in earnest as hiccups wrack my body.
All the anger, anguish, exhaustion, and terror from the last few years pour out of me as he holds me close, letting me purge it from my body. His fingers brush against my sensitive skin, soothing it and me at the same time.
“You took your first punishment very well, Stephanie. I’m so very proud of you. But know this. Lie to me again, and there will be no warmup. There will be no hand against your ass. It will be the taste of my leather. Understood?”
“Y- yes, Daddy,” I hiccup, twisting his pants legs in my grasp.
The car jerks forward, jostling as it goes over some dip or hole in the road. It makes his hand drop, skimming against my exposed pussy lips, drawing a gasp from my mouth. But just as soon as it happened, his hand is back against my ass as if he had never touched me so intimately.
We stay like this for a few minutes as I catch my breath and think through everything that just happened. All too soon, however, he helps me up so I can straighten myself.
“We’re almost there. I suggest you look presentable before my driver sees you in such disarray.”
He’s so calm, almost businesslike. Yet, here I am, a quivering mess needing to get off. None of it makes any sense, and deep down, I know it won’t unless he explains it to me. Glancing out the window as I button my pants, my eyes nearly bulge out of my head.
“The Meat Market? Lunch is at the actual Meat Market?”
“Yes,” he says with a smooth cadence, as if it’s nothing for him to stop there on a whim.
But then, for him, this is probably just another day. He never had to worry about money or where his next meal will come from.