Page 22 of Imperfect Gifts

She smiled. “Doesn’t have to be a table. We did fine standing, before.”

He stroked his hand down her back, “Yes or no, Genie. I spank you and then belt you and then give you orgasms, or I give you a dress and some shoes and we go out to eat.”

“I brought clothes to change into. Just in case.”

“Is that your answer?”

She sighed. “No. I accept your proposal. Seventy and ten.”

The first twenty hand spanks weren’t so bad. When he finished them, he told her, “I’d intended a warm-up of fifty, but since you shortened it, you only get twenty as a warm-up.”

So, she’d made it worse, not better, with her negotiating. Lesson learned — Dev didn’t appreciate negotiations.

And then the real spanking began. She had fifty more to go, and at thirty, she considered telling him yellow, but only because it hurt. She wasn’t in danger of being injured, butfuck.

He stopped and rubbed her ass. “I know, they’re coming fast, before you have a chance to handle them. Life is like that, sometimes. Breathe for me, little owl. You can do this.”

She took two deep breaths and said, “Thank you.”

He leaned in to kiss her temple. “You’re very welcome.” He stood. “You’ll get this twenty all at once, and the last five will be hard enough for some slight bruising. Brace yourself, little Genie.”

His hand was big, and hard. Flesh on flesh. Bone and muscle on flesh. It fuckinghurt, but those three orgasms were screaming louder and louder to be let out, despite the pain. Or perhaps because of the pain.

Tears were beginning to form in her eyes before he got to the final five, and she screamed somewhere in those last five. Or maybe for most of the last five.

She didn’t safeword, though. She was fine, her ass was just on fire, which made her pussy blaze hot, and her clit throb.Fuck. Ten more strikes and they’d be done.

He talked while he slid his belt out of the dress pants. “These will come three, three, then two, and then the final two. You’ll get one deep breath in between the groupings. The deeper and longer the breath, the longer you have to recover. A fast in and out is one breath, I don’t suggest you do that.”

She nodded, and he rubbed his hand across her ass before holding the buckle in his hand and wrapping the belt around his palm a few times.

He stood a couple of feet away and touched the belt to her ass. “Three, three, two, and two.”

And then the three came, one after another — three lines of fire on her ass. She sucked air in fast when it was over, and tried her hardest to take her time blowing it out. Dev valued control, clearly.

Three more, this time on her lower butt and the backs of her thighs, rather than centered on her ass.

She managed to breathe in a little slower this time, and had to force her chest not to push the air out all at once. Fuck, her ass hurt, but she was over halfway through the worst of it. She could do this.

The next two were so much harder, and were centered over her ass again. She sucked air in and blew it out much faster than she wanted, but she couldn’t help it.

A blistering line hit the backs of her thighs, and another followed furiously right behind it. Dev reached to support her as soon as he’d give them, which was a good thing because her legs threatened to stop supporting her.

And then his pants were down and his cock was driving back into her pussy, spreading her, opening her. She pressed backwards to take him faster, and he pulled out and slammed back in, bouncing off her cervix so he could do it again. And again. She was going to be bruised inside but she didn’t care – she wanted more, harder, and she told him so.

He lifted her hips so her feet came off the ground and he fucked her through not three orgasms, but at least five, possibly six.

And when he finally released her wrists from the handcuffs, he carried her to the jail cell, gently placed her on the bed, and then proceeded to fuck her missionary style until she was raw and hurty andstillwanted more.

He hadn’t been lying about being able to go for hours, and when he finally came again, his burning hot come inside her, she thought the top of her head might come off with her own release.

He collapsed beside her, and the two of them gasped for air, side by side, facing the bars that made up the top of the jail cell, perhaps six inches below the rafters of the garage ceiling.

When she could finally breathe again, she noted, “This doesn’t seem like a temporary jail cell.” It was bolted onto a sheet of metal, which appeared to be bolted onto the concrete floor of the garage.

“It isn’t. The supernatural who lives here occasionally needs to be restrained, and fresh air helps. The doors don’t face the road, and there are fences and trees that block the view so no one can see into it from off the property. He knows when he needs the cage and generally puts himself in. The lock to get out is what we call a puzzle lock, something only a human in control can figure out.”

She took a deep breath, but couldn’t smell anything except the faint scent of bleach. They’d cleaned and then thoroughly rinsed the garage so she wouldn’t be able to scent whatever lived here. She knew the general area of town, but doubted she could find her way back here — the side and rear windows of the SUV were too dark to really see out of, and from the angle she sat, she hadn’t been able to see much out of the front. Probably by design.

---