Page 66 of The Dragon Warlord
Five-years-ago me would have refused to talk, but I’ve grown up, at least I like to think I have.
“I’d like to talk about it. Maybe you have some insight for me.”
I can almost hear him thinking back there. “Let’s do both. I’m going to start and then we’ll break to chat. You’re all tight. We need to loosen a few of those knots.”
“Yes, sir.”
He’s right. I need to get out of my head. Fast. Spanking is the fastest way for me to do that. He picks up the wooden paddle. Still a stingy son of a bitch, but a million times better than that fucking dragon whip. Rubbing it on my right cheek to let me know where he’ll start, he lays in some solid ground with several spanks to my right cheek and then my left, carrying that rhythm through until I’m wincing and hissing.
“Hurt?”
“Amply, sir.”
“Good. Talk.” He’s a gruff man of few words.
“River had a sex dream.”
“And you haven’t murdered anyone? I’d say that’s progress, Tristan.”
“Har, har.” I receive several hard smacks for that.
“Stow your cheekiness, please. I’m serious. You must remember what you were like when you first came home.”
“Sorry, sir, and I do. I was over the top. I’m afraid of going back there.”
“Even if you did, what’s wrong with that? Your bond with River is meant to ebb and flow. Perhaps try not to view your bond with a goal in mind. Let go of expectations. Think about that one for a minute.”
I do while he goes to town on my arse. It’s smack after smack at the same maddening cadence. Tears well up and leak over my bottom lids. I get another break. “I still think I need to work on letting go a little more.”
“If you feel you must, but Tristan, that man adores you with all his being. I’ve never seen River as happy as he is when he’s with you. His dream was probably about—”
“Don’t say it. Dear, Gods, please don’t say it. Hit me again.”
“No. You know better. That’s not how it works. Do you decide how your discipline happens or do I?”
“You, sir.”
“Glad we sorted that out.” My arse quietly throbs along with my heartbeat while he thinks. “Okay, try your way. See how that goes for you.”
“Really, sir?”
“Not because I think it’s the right solution, but I because I think you have to experience all the wrong ones before you finally do the right one.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, sir?”
“It means that you, dear Tristan, must always learn the hard way. Now brace yourself, we’re going to go through to the end and then we’re going to finish this conversation while you sit on a sore arse.”
Oh, goody.
I get spanked for a good long while until my arse is as hot as dragon fire. I’m sobbing hard enough that my chest shakes. I’m grateful for this bench in the end because it prevents me from kicking and moving my round arse out of target range. Each solidwhapof the paddle brings a new level of sting. Tears run down my cheeks in streams. I let my head hang as I accept each smack that speaks to my soul.
When he’s done, he helps me up and hands me a soft cotton robe, gesturing to the hard wooden chair. I grimace. It’s always the damn wooden chairs. I’m never this strict with River.
Gingerly, I sit and face him. He gets the nice soft chair. “What’s your big plan?”
I’m still catching my breath. I haven’t stopped crying. “I-I-I was thinking I’d touch him less.” It hurts just to say it.
He frowns. “This is going to be a world of pain for both of you.”
