Page 75 of Objection
And another.
Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat!
Her screams filled the room as she fought.
“I hate you!” she cried out.
“Good! This is my job, Posey. This is what I’m required to do, as your Dominant!” I bellowed right back.
“I hate you! I hate! I… I…”
That’s when it happened. My hits came faster, reading her clearer than ever.
What had begun as a punishment morphed into something that many Dominants never get to experience. It morphed into a critical, vital, emotional release. Her body, tinged red and fighting every touch and every strike, poised for its final moment.
“I will make you, Posey,” I Promised, my voice harsh and gravelly. “I will make you beg. I will make you obey. I will make you listen. I will make you do it all. And then I’ll do it again. I. Will. Make. You. Break!”
Her scream turned into a wailing cry that broke my heart. She crumbled against my legs as the last strike landed.
Without a thought, I spun her up and into my arms, barely registering her wince as her red and bruised ass slid across my denim clad lap. I pulled her close, her face nestled tightly into the crook of my neck as her sobs broke against me like a thundering storm.
“What is my job, Posey?” I whispered against her temple, holding her just as tightly as she clung to me.
Still her sobs came. On and on until she wilted against me, broken beautifully.
“What is my job, sweet girl?” I whispered again.
“To...to protect me,” she murmured, her voice stuttering with her staccato breathing and her hitched and almost silent sobs.
“Yes, and…” I urged on, rocking her back and forth so slightly it was almost unnoticeable.
“To guide me,” she continued.
“Yes, and…”
“To care for me,” she asked, and the hope that I heard nearly shattered me.
I pulled her up from the crook of my neck, placing her face in my hands and kissing her forehead.
“Yes. Those are my jobs, as your Dominant. And as a person who genuinely cares for you.” My eyes searched hers, willing her to understand that this, this was probably all I could give her. It was all I knew how to give her. I just prayed it was enough.
We sat there, the clock ticking by the minutes as she calmed. Finally, with tear-stained eyes and the barest hit of a genuine smile on her face, she finally spoke.
“Sir? Please take me to the playroom.” Her voice was tired, but her eyes shone brightly with desire, with trust, and with gratitude. I kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose and nodded.
“Yes, princess. Go prepare. Kneel on your pillow in the center of the room and I shall join you momentarily. We are far from finished.” I watched with a smile as she righted her clothing, foregoing her pants as she walked out of the room in only her shirt. She looked back at me once, with a look on her face that spoke of the trust we had just built in this moment.
When I heard her footfalls on the staircase, I let myself breathe. I let myself take in all that this moment was. She had pushed me. I had pushed her. Together we figured it out. She hadn’t needed to give her control over to someone. Of course, she didn’t. She had readily given that control to her ex time and time again. No, she needed someone to take that control. To take and to prove that she was safe in their hands. She had to trust me, and I had broken her, broken her in the way she needed. She needed that firm hand, that person who wasn’t afraid to challenge her and to hold her as she let go and gave in. Someone to protect and keep her safe.
These things I could do. They may not be the love she rightly deserved, but I could care. And I could do this. I could protect her, and take that control she needed to give up in order to breathe. I could keep her safe.
With a renewed sense of calm, I made my way down the stairs, ready to have the scene we were both so desperate for.
I stepped into the playroom, ready to reestablish our dynamic and take the control I needed and that she needed to give. The sight of her, kneeling and perfect in the center of the room was incredible. But it was the wide smile that spread across her face that made my heart skip a beat.
My safe haven was becoming hers. It was becoming nothing more than a weird room without her there in it.
I shook the thought from my head, focusing instead on the task at hand, at renewing the bond we both wanted to share.
