The drive back to London was completed in almost total silence. Jodie seemed lost in her own thoughts and he was too fucking livid to make conversation. Dylan knew he had to get his temper under control before they arrived. He couldn’t punish her if he was still angry. That was the cardinal sin among self-respecting doms.
Never lay a hand on a sub unless you are totally in control.
He certainly intended to lay more than a hand on Jodie. There was a rather fierce leather tawse in his kit bag that would do the required job very well indeed.
It wasn’t so much that she lost. He’d been around the taekwondo circuit long enough to know that unexpected results do happen, nothing is ever guaranteed. But Jodie hadn’t been trying, and that was unforgivable.
He’d run through that final bout in his head time and time again and become quite convinced of it. How many missed chances had there been? How many bonus points forfeited when she settled for a simple punch or kick when she was capable of so much more? They’d practiced, she was technically perfect, and the opportunities had been there. Dylan calculated that Jodie had allowed at least a dozen points to slip away, more than enough to secure the victory she was capable of.
She must have gotten lazy. Or perhaps she wasn’t hungry enough for it. Maybe she just didn’t have the temperament for the big occasion. He would find out. They would talk, he’d probe, get to the bottom of this.
But in the meantime, she’d earned a spanking and he was ready to deliver it.
“Where are we going?” Jodie furrowed her brow when he missed the turn that would have taken them to her flat.
“My place,” he responded.
“Your place? Why? I thought… oh.”
He glanced across and saw her features pale slightly as she put two and two together and came up with four.
“But I said I was sorry.”
“And I believe you. But there still has to be a reckoning. You let me down, Jodie, and worse, you let yourself down. I won’t allow that.”
“But it’s a sport. Someone has to lose.”
“They do. But if you want to be a gold medal winning competitor, right at the top of your sport, then you put in one hundred and ten percent. Every time. No half measures, no taking your foot off the gas. And that’s what you did today, Jodie. I could see it. Damn it, even Tanya could tell so Christ only knows what the selectors made of it.”
Her eyes widened. “Do you think I blew it?”
“I don’t know.” That was the truth. She hadn’t done anything to help her chances, that was for sure, but all might not be lost. “Perhaps not. A lot depends on how you perform in the nationals next month.”
“I’ll do better there, I swear. I could win, I know it, and the national champion is always picked for the Olympics.”
“You won’t win if you perform like you did today. Not a chance.” Dylan turned the wheel to steer the car onto the forecourt of the converted warehouse building where he had a loft apartment. He killed the engine, then he turned to cup her chin in his hand. “What happened back there? That wasn’t you.”
“I… I had a bad day. That’s all, I swear.”
He flattened his lips. “Come with me.”
She exited the car and moved around to stand beside him as he dragged her duffel from the boot and shouldered it. Then she padded along beside him when he let himself into the building. His apartment was on the third floor. He led her past the lift and they took the stairs. At the door to his flat he paused.
“You know what I plan to do?”
“Spank me. Because of what happened today.”
He inclined his head slowly. “You accept my right to do this, as your master, in the dojang and out of it. I have the right to discipline you. Agreed?”
He unlocked the door and gestured her inside. “Straight ahead, third door on the right.”
She obeyed and entered his bedroom without a murmur of protest. Dylan left her duffel dangling from his kitchen door handle then he followed her down the hall.
“Remove your clothes and lie face down over the bottom of the bed.”
Tears streamed down her face as she did as he instructed. They were tears of remorse, he was certain of that. Jodie’s natural submission meant that she hated to disappoint or anger him, and the fact that he now saw fit to punish her would cause her pain, every bit as acute as the flogging she was about to receive.
He went to his wardrobe and hauled a holdall down from on top of it. The leather strap he selected was solid at one end and split in two for about two thirds of its length. It had been handmade by a dom acquaintance of his and he knew it packed a serious punch. A previous play partner had described it as a right bastard and judging by the marks it had left behind he saw no cause to quibble. It would do nicely for today.
“Five strokes,” he announced as she peered up at him from the bed.
She let out a soft sigh, and he wondered if she felt relief that the number was not higher. He’d given her ten swats with the paddle at the club. If she thought she was being let off lightly she would soon adjust her thinking.
“Have you been on the receiving end of one of these before?” he enquired.
She frowned, shook her head. “No. Is it like a belt?”
“Yes, in that it’s made of leather. But it’s heavier, stiffer. And it’s designed for this purpose. The tawse was the favoured instrument of correction for hundreds of years north of the border.” He allowed his lips to curl in a half smile. “Those Scots knew a thing or two about discipline.”
He allowed his gaze to linger on her nude body. Her breasts were round and full, their lush contours pressed into the mattress as she readied herself for what was to come. Her waist was slender, and every inch of her was toned. Taekwondo required peak physical fitness as well as skill.
Shit, she’s fucking perfect.
And she would look even more breath-taking once her bottom sported the marks from his tawse. If this were a play spanking he would offer to warm her up first with his hand. But it was not. This was serious. This was about teaching a lesson and making it stick.
“So, just to make sure we’re both clear, tell me again why this is happening, Jodie.”
“Because I lost my bout with Tanya,” she sniffled.
She hesitated for a few moments, as though considering her answer. “Because I could have won, but I didn’t.”
“Better. Why didn’t you win?”
“I… I was too slow. I missed chances.”
“Very good. Why did you let that happen, Jodie? You’ve been trained to be fast, to seize every opportunity. You’re bloody good. The best. So, why?”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry. If… if I could tell you I would. I want that Olympic place, truly I do and I’ll work for it, I swear…”
“I know you will. If I thought anything else, you wouldn’t be here now. But next time, you’ll remember what happens if you put in anything less than your absolute best performance. Win or lose, you’ll give me nothing less, ever again.”
“Yes, Sir. I promise.”
“Are you ready?”
“Yes. I think I—aaagh!”
She jerked on the bed when the first stroke landed. Dylan cocked his head to admire his handiwork as she writhed, gasped for air, then settled again. Two thick red welts bloomed across her right buttock and she whimpered quietly into the duvet, which she clenched in her fists.
“Tell me when you’re ready for the next one.”
“I… I’m ready, Sir.”
This time he landed the stroke on her left cheek. Jodie let out a shriek and kicked her feet up behind her. She was sobbing in earnest.
“Keep your feet on the floor,” he instructed. “You can make as much noise as you like—my closest neighbours are two floors down—but you will keep your body still.”
“Yes, Sir. Sorry. It was just—”
“Ready to carry on?” He kept his tone cold, business-like. There would be ample time for aftercare later.
“Yes. I’m ready.”
The next two strokes were laid across the backs of her thighs. It would be days before she could sit in comfort again. She let out a high-pitched scream with each one, but she managed to stay in position. Despite today’s debacle, he was proud of her.
“Last one. This will be across both buttocks and it will fucking sting.”
She groaned and clenched her cheeks hard. The eight perfect red stripes he had already painted on her skin shifted as she moved, but he caught sight of the sheen of her juices clearly visible on her lower lips.
“Open your legs, Jodie.”
“Oh, please, no. Not there. It hurts…”
He hardened his tone. “Do as you’re told. Show me your wet pussy.”
Slowly, but surely, she spread her thighs.
“Good girl. Now, lift up. I want to see how wet and horny you are, my sexy little subbie.”
She did as he said, pushing up onto the balls of her feet and arching her back. He tilted his head to get a better view. Yes, she was fucking soaked.
“If you take this last one without any fuss, I’ll fuck you afterwards.”
“Th-thank you, Sir.”
He swung the tawse again, taking care to land the blow on the upper curves of her bottom and not the delicate flesh of her pussy. Jodie howled in pain, or perhaps triumph. A decent beating had a way of scrambling a submissive’s responses so that pain and pleasure became mixed together. Dylan had no desire to disentangle them. He tossed the tawse onto the bed and leaned down to kiss Jodie between her shoulder blades.
“You did well. It’s over.”
She turned, half rolled onto her side, then thought better of it.
“Can you forgive me, Sir? For what happened today?”
“Of course. I already have. It’s done with. Over. We’ll talk about it in training, we need to ensure it doesn’t happen again. But between us, things are fine. A clean slate.”
She smiled, the first genuinely contented smile he’d seen on her lips for days now. It was as though a weight had been lifted.
“You promised… to fuck me. If I didn’t make a fuss. I tried to be quiet but—”
“You screeched like a banshee, but that’s allowed. And a promise is a promise. Can you roll over or do you prefer to stay where you are?”
Jodie gazed up at Dylan, his image blurred by her last remaining tears. On the one hand she wanted to be on her back so she could wrap her legs around him and see his face as he fucked her, but the mere thought of her punished bottom chafing against the sheets was enough to make her shudder. Her ass burned like it had been whipped with fire. There was no way she could cope with any additional sensation.
“I’ll stay where I am.”
Dylan’s grin held a sadistic gleam of satisfaction. “Okay. Stay where you are while I fetch some rope. I meant it when I said I wanted you tied to my bed when I fuck you. You’d better brace yourself, Jodie. It’ll be hard and rough.”
Jodie shivered. He was playing with her mind, gearing her up for a ride that would claim her as his, and she couldn’t wait. She wanted him to bind her so she was helpless, to fuck her so hard that she screamed for mercy…
“Kneel up then sit back on your heels. Good girl, now move farther up along the bed.”
Dylan held up a length of rope, hemp by the look of it. Her experience with rope was limited, but she had seen some amazing Shibari demonstrations at Club Sin and had always wanted to try it. She positioned herself where Dylan wanted her, careful not to sit on her tender bottom. “Have you done a lot of rope work before?” she asked.
“Enough to make sure a subbie can’t escape whatever torture I want to inflict on her. Now, give me your hands.”
Dylan’s words sent another rush of heat to her pussy. He spoke like a dom, hard and uncompromising. She raised her arms then watched him bind her wrists while he slowly took away her ability to move them. The rope was scratchy and didn’t have any give. There would be no escaping this bondage and the knowledge thrilled her.
“Now, lean forward so you’re facing down, and stay on your knees, bottom up. I want you exposed and ready for me.”
She managed to shuffle forward then lower her upper body as Dylan had instructed. No sooner she was in position than Dylan then pulled some spare rope from the knot at her wrists and tied it to the wrought-iron headboard. “Just in case you have any thoughts about escaping,” he said with a chuckle.
Jodie groaned in frustration. This was taking too long. It was almost as if he was deliberately taking his time to torment her.
“Lift your ass higher, spread your legs, and let me see that wet pussy again,” ordered Dylan from behind her.
By now Jodie was so horny she was ready to hump the fucking duvet. The temptation to tell him to get a move on was overwhelming, but her common sense reminded her that it wouldn’t be a good idea to be bratty. She had the distinct impression that Dylan was a dom who would never tolerate such attitude from his submissive. She assumed the position and waited.
He strode back to stand at the top end of the bed so she could see him again. He had taken his shirt off, giving her another chance to ogle his muscular chest and now he was unzipping his fly. She watched in awe as he removed his trousers then his boxers. Her breath caught and her eyes widened as his enormous cock sprang out, hard and thick with little veins running along its length. He was so big that she wasn’t sure she could even accommodate him.
“Good girl, I like to see you in such a submissive position, bent over and ready to take my cock.” He walked out of her line of vision as he spoke, toward the back of the bed again.
Then the mattress dipped, and she almost cried with relief when a crinkly wrapper was ripped open. A few seconds later, he placed the tip of his cock in her slick folds, circling it around, teasing her. She wiggled her bottom to try to hurry him. What the hell is taking him so long?
“Your ass looks beautiful with my marks on it,” he said, his voice gruff. “I can’t wait to give you some more. Next time it will hopefully be a more pleasurable experience for both of us.”
“Yes, Sir. You have my word that you won’t need to punish me again. Now, will you please fuck me?”
He chuckled. “Impatient little sub, aren’t you?”
Then, finally, he plunged in, making her gasp with the fullness of such a large intrusion. He seated himself deep inside her, stretching her and forcing her to take the whole length of him. She groaned as little darts of pleasure zinged through her body. “Oh, God,” she cried as he eased himself out, hovered just inside her entrance then drove back in again, harder, deeper than before. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, held her head in place, and started to pound into her like a primal warrior. Every thrust was brutal, verging on painful yet she wanted more… harder…
He rammed into her with such force that the bedframe knocked against the wall, each bang reinforcing his ferocious onslaught. Her whole body felt alive, buzzing with endorphins that released her pent-up frustrations, especially when Dylan reached down with his free hand and found her hard, swollen clit. He pinched it, sending sharp bites of pain into her pot of swirling pleasure, making her cry out.
“You like that?” groaned Dylan and pinched again. “You like a bit of pain while you’re being fucked?”
“Yes, Sir,” she gasped, bucking against his hand. “I think I’m going to come soon.”
“Don’t you dare come until I say you can.” He pinched her aching nub harder and she let out a strangled yelp. Then he rubbed her hot juices over it, soothing it, luring her into a false sense of security before squeezing again.
He took her to the brink of release over and over, inflicting just the right amount of pain with each powerful thrust until she didn’t think she could hold on any longer. “Please, Sir,” she begged, “please…”
“Okay, come now, Jodie,” he growled and slapped her ass so hard that she screamed.
The agony from her spanking reignited and joined a wave of pleasure just as it crashed through her. “Oh… oh… oh,” she cried, yanking her bonds as she writhed beneath Dylan. Her body shook from the powerful explosion and when Dylan stiffened and came inside her, fresh waves of ecstasy tore through her, making the first orgasm roll straight into another one.
Finally, Dylan slowed and pulled out of her, then kissed her neck and shoulders until she stopped shaking. She closed her eyes and savoured his hot lips as they nuzzled her, while she floated on a cloud of contentment. Time blurred and she didn’t snap out of her trance-like state until Dylan started to untie the rope. She smiled dreamily at the tingling sensation as the rope unravelled and was mesmerised by the marks it left on her skin.
When she was free, Dylan climbed back into bed then drew her into his body and wrapped his arms around her. “Are you okay?” he asked, kissing the top of her head.
“Mmm,” she murmured, “never better.”
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