“Because I—I wanted you to think... I don’t know. I don’t know.”
“The truth, Three.Now.”
“Iwantedto come. But it’s just... I can’t, very often.” Her voice is tiny. So delicate. Mortified. “I’ve tried. On my own, and with you, and before I became an apprentice. My whole life, it’s just... it’s hard for me to come. And when I do, it’s just not very—hard, I guess. I still enjoy things, when you do them to me, I mean. I enjoy them a lot. But I just can’t come every time, or not as... as intensely as I feel like you expect me to.”
“First, a warning. Do not fake it, or exaggerate. Never again, no matter what, do you understand?”
“Yes, Caleb.”
“Now stand up and put your hands on the bed.”
“But you said penalty free!” A panicked protest.
“I’m not punishing you for your answer, Three, I’m punishing you for faking. I told you at the very start not to ever lie, fake, or pretend. Not about anything. I require absolute truth in all situations.” A softening of the voice. “And this punishment won’t be going on your program record. This is between us. So you understand that I’m serious.”
“But... Caleb, I—I understand. Okay? I won’t fake again, I swear!”
“Three. Stand up,now. Put your hands on the bed,now.” Slow, deliberate, precise, calm.
Three stands up, twists in place; I can see her knees shaking. The Italian leather shoes slide forward, and I see the pants rise, hear the buckle of the belt. The bed dips very slightly, and Three’s feet are spread shoulder width apart. I watch as the hem of Three’s shift rises up out of view.
Smack!Hand on flesh.
Smack!Again.
Three cries out. There is pain in that cry, very real pain. But there is also... arousal.
Smack!
Smack!
The sounds of spanking increase, punctuated by Three’s cries of pain and increasing sexual arousal. My gut is churning. Some part of me is... not as horrified by this as I should be. Three isenjoyingthis. Doing thisvoluntarily. Three could leave at will. As the spanking continues, cries of pain gradually become entirely erotic cries of need. Bare feet shuffle on the floor, knees dip, bent body pushing back into the blows, into the touch.
I wonder if there is only the spanking, or if something else is happening. Fingers as well, perhaps, moving inside her privates? From the way Three is moaning and whimpering, I assume so.
I can see how this might be intensely arousing. I feel dirty for eavesdropping on this, and dirtier still for feeling curious,and jealous. But some part of me is finding a dark voyeuristic pleasure in it. I am sick,thisis sick.
But I cannot get away from it.
I hear Three orgasm. The wail of release is shrill, and loud, and to my ear, genuine.
The white shift is tossed aside, to the floor. Pants drape around ankles. Three cries out. The bed shifts, dips, and is rocked sideways by a forceful thrust. Three is bent over the bed, male feet lined up behind. The sounds of sex are loud, and fast. Three whimpers with each fleshy slap of skin against skin, and then as the tempo increases, the whimpers become cries, and then grunts, and I can tell from the movement of Three’s bare feet when accepting the thrusts turns to active participation, pushing back into them.
Male grunt of release, slapping of body on body slows and stops, and Three is breathless, moaning, emitting high-pitched whimpers.
I’m damp between my thighs, aroused, and sick with guilt and shame and confusion.
A moment of silence, then, neither person moving or speaking. And then I see trousers slide up, hear a belt buckle, fabric rustling. I can picture strong hands tucking a pristine white shirt into the slacks, tugging it to blouse just so, stuffing fingers into hip pockets so they don’t bulge or fold. A familiar ritual of re-dressing, adjusting; Three will be still naked, of course. Artfully posed, probably, to look sated, glutted, content, drowsy.
I know the pose all too well, having assumed it myself a million times.
“Was that exaggerated, Three?” Arrogant, and assured.
“N-no. No, Caleb.” A gasp. “It was real. I camesohard, Caleb.”
“What do you think made the difference?”
“You... spanking me. I—I liked that. It hurt, but I liked it.” Three sounds embarrassed. “I liked it alot.”
