Page 8 of Motivating Mira
“Not good,” I mumbled.
“Not good as in, they’re a hard limit?”
Because everyone was so well vetted here at Rawhide, it was a normal question even though my paperwork specifically stated they weren’t a hard limit. Professor Stahlbaum knew limits could change and consent was extremely important. It’s why Rawhide Ranch was so reputable in the BDSM community. Even if I’d filled the paperwork out five minutes ago, she’d ask again.
I considered telling Professor Stahlbaum wooden paddles were a hard limit, because the dread inside me was akin to a roiling sea, but I tossed the idea almost instantly. After all, I came to Rawhide for just this reason. I was wired for BDSM.
In my current predicament though, speaking the words was like cutting a tomato with a dull knife. I knew from my Dungeon play, paddles hurt—a lot. The only thing I liked less was rubber. Fighting a shiver, I replied, “They’re not a hard limit, Ma’am.” I shook my head maybe to confirm my words but also maybe in a silent protest.Not the damn paddle please.
“Right then. Your safe word?”
Oh god, oh god, oh god.This was happening. The skin on my bottom broke out in goosebumps and I involuntarily tightened my glutes.
“Octopus,” I replied in a shaky voice.
“Octopus. Okay. And I can trust you to use it should you feel the need?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Good. Lower your garments, bare your bottom and place your elbows and forearms on my desk.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I answered, my voice cracking this time. I lifted my skirt, and hooking my thumbs into my panties, I lowered them. The paddle on my bare bottom was going to be awful. I leaned forward, forearms flat against the cool, polished wood surface of her desk. She took a minute to adjust me, opening my legs slightly with her foot, and pulling my hips back and tilting them so my bottom was further out.
The exposure was humiliating, but also a little exciting and, for a flash, I imagined someone watching my humiliation, peeking at my pussy which was likely a little visible. But then I remembered what was about to come, and I focused my attention on the professor. I didn’t dare miss anything she said while I was in this position or else I might earn extra punishment.
Isodid not want extra.
“Once I’m through with your paddling, I want you to have a seat on that chair.”
I glanced at her finger which pointed to a wooden chair in the corner.
“You’ll sit there on your bare bottom while we find a time slot in both of our schedules for our weekly meetings.”
“Thank you for helping me, Professor Stahlbaum,” I said, a tremor to my voice.
“You’re welcome, Mira. Now prepare yourself.”
Acceptance washed over me, it didn’t completely stop the nerves but there was a click of something fitting into place inside me and I welcomed it.
I’m not sure which of my senses alerted me of the first swat. There was a rush of air that blew against my skirt and a thwack so loud it echoed, and a sting and burn so intense my eyespopped wide. I took in a sharp hissing breath and rose to my tiptoes; the air was momentarily trapped in my lungs.
My bottom clenched involuntarily as my lungs clawed for fresh oxygen. After ten seconds, I was finally able to release the breath I was holding only to immediately suck it in again with the next paddle whack. Before the burn eased from that one, another loud pop of wood on flesh rang out. I choked out a whimper and fell forward against the desk.
“Relax your breathing and your bottom, Mira.” She placed her hand on my lower back, a steady pressure. “Back into position.”
I nodded, unable to speak. She hadn’t told me how many swats I was to receive and that made me a little panicky since the first three were worse than I’d expected.Much worse.But I did as I was told and the swats continued, each compounding the sting and burn of the last.
“Last one, Mira. You’re being such a good girl.”
I nodded, and it landed with a jolting swat. This time, I let go. I stopped holding on so desperately to my emotional control and just released everything. Sobbing, my shoulders shook. Emotions poured out of me. Yes, the paddling was awful, yes, my ass was on fire, but the wracking sobs carried so much more than that away. Like a tsunami, the pain, anguish, fear, and unknowing, was swept out of me like crumbling buildings and debris.
What would I do when school ended, and as I promised myself, I moved out on my own?
What would I do when my mother died, and I had no family?
What would I do if my mother was right and I couldn’t make it on my own without her?
“Good girl,” Professor Stahlbaum crooned, rubbing my lower back. “Your punishment’s over but we’re not finished just yet.” Her voice was gentle and reassuring like her hand on my back.
