Chapter Twenty

Discipline

Tucker

Ella squealed as his palm smashed against her skin again.

"How many, little girl?" His hard tone was intentional as he waited for her obedience.

That had been an impromptu part of his plan since he'd flung her in place over his lap. The original scheme, designed in part from his desire to liquefy her sex and claim her again, had only been to spank her playfully and test how his hand warmed her up, but the reality had turned into a far crueler affair.

He'd lost track of time since her punishment had started. Not that the metric held much weight in the sweet confines of the forest. The woods were measured in the passing of days and seasons. All man-made dimensions were irrelevant.

His lips curled at the gorgeous woman sprawled over him. He must be the luckiest son-of-a-bitch in the world to have captured a jewel as wonderful as Ella, yet her beauty wouldn't empower her to get away with disrespect.

Not this time.

Stroking the skin of her upper thigh, he wondered how many times her loveliness had facilitated upgrades and provided excuses for her. How many people had let her get away with untold sins just because of her pretty face and extraordinarily hot body?

Too many.

Despite his undoubted attraction to the gorgeous blonde, he would ensure this was not one of those times.

He wanted to see how far he could push until she crumbled, and in the process, he intended to make sure she knew what would happen when she defied him. He liked the fire inside her and wouldn't do anything to extinguish the spark entirely, but it was time his little girl accepted what turned her on. Part of that complicated process was her abject denigration, demonstrated wonderfully by his demand that she numbered each fresh spank.

"Ella." His tone deepened, reminding her of his expectations. "Do you need me to add another ten swats?"

"No." Her voice nearly broke as she answered, and he massaged the small of her back in reply. "Twenty-nine, sir."

Poor little Ella.

The endurance spanking had been going on for a long time—twenty-nine swats worth, to be precise. That was, he assumed, longer than she'd ever been held down and spanked before, and in fairness, Tucker wasn't holding back as he tanned her hide. Presumably, she hadn't seen this coming, but then why would she? His little girl barely knew him at all.

"Thank me." He feigned a sigh at having to remind her, but in truth, the reality was scintillating. He enjoyed prompting her almost as much as the process itself.

Her body tensed at the command. "Thank you, sir."

There was still a trace of defiance in her tone, but her response was good enough. She'd expressed her gratitude, and there were still twenty-one more glorious strikes to go.

"Very good." His hand splayed over her ass as his attention shifted to take in the color of her skin. The hue had shifted from a rosy pink to a scarlet crimson, indicating that she could use some respite. "How are you doing, little girl?"

"I don't know what you want me to say, sir." Her voice was a strained whimper, exhausted apprehension meeting begrudged acquiescence. She hadn't wanted this spanking. She'd made that much obvious. Just like she hadn't wanted to count, or thank him, for each swat.

He pulled in a breath, all too aware of his cock straining to be freed. If the alleged point of this test was to ascertain Ella's proclivity for pain, it was also easily illustrating his own penchant for delivering it.

The reality was they must both already know that the results would bring hot, frantic need. His strikes would only prove it.

One of his fingers slipped between her cheeks and skimmed over the top of her sex. She gasped, her breathing ragged as his digit brushed over the evidence of her arousal.

Even he couldn't believe how wet and turned-on she was.

"There's no need to say anything." His voice was little more than a purr. "I have the answer for myself."

"I can't believe this." Her answer was like one long rush of air.

"It seems my theory's true, little girl." Conceit reverberated in his tone as his finger dipped an inch into her tight pussy. He already knew how devastatingly appealing it was to be lodged in that warm space, and he craved much, much more. "You absolutely love being punished."

"That's not my fault." Anguish radiated from her as she twisted around to glower at him from the floor. "I don't want this, sir. I don't want any of this!"

That, he supposed, could be true, but her admission was immaterial. Bennett had seen fit to drop his daughter into the wilderness for Tucker's amusement, and now, after hours of finding and trying to appease her, he wanted this to be about honesty.

She was his, whatever she said, and she was wonderfully aroused by his spanking.

"Fault is extraneous." He'd learned that much in the military. "We are what we are." His finger picked up its pace as it elicited a guttural groan from her throat. "Tell me how many more swats you deserve for failing to address me properly."

"Oh God." Her voice was laced with desperation this time. "Oh yes."

"Ella." He chuckled at her burgeoning pleasure. "Answer the question, or you get another ten…"

"Twenty-one, sir." Her knees splayed wider with the reply. Clearly, she wanted the passion his finger had to offer, her little cunt accepting its length greedily and even pushing back to take more. He added a second finger as a treat she probably didn't deserve. He'd give her what she so badly needed, but she'd still have to endure his twisted game.

"That's right," he cooed, delighted at both her pleasure and obedience. "Only twenty-one more strikes, then we'll see just how much passion you have for my punishments."

"Okay, sir." Once again, she tried to push away from him. "I get it. You win. I admit it. I like this!" Frustration resonated in her tone, but he had the distinct sense that the primary emotion was directed more at herself than at him. "I don't know what's fucking wrong with me, but I like it."

He grinned at her confession, reveling in the sweet warmth of her delectable cunt.

"There's nothing wrong with you." The hand that had held her back down relaxed, sliding to her neck and offering the muscles a gentle massage. "I love this about you, little girl."

"Why are you calling me that?" Her sex clenched around his digits. "I'm not a child!"

"Settle down." With a growl, his fingers stilled. "Don't ruin this with your petulance. I told you I like the name, and it suits you. Now, let's conclude your spanking."

He regretted having to leave her delicious pussy, but was determined to give her all fifty of the spanks she merited for failing to meet his simple terms. Whatever her feelings on the subject, he did outrank her in this cabin, and he wanted the point reiterated each time she spoke to him.

***

Ella

Ella squeezed her eyes closed as his palm spanked her over and over, giving him the ridiculous required replies on every occasion. In some fucked-up way, she was almost glad he'd made her count each strike, for the growing number helped to reassure her that the ordeal was almost over.

She'd almost made it.

Naturally, she hated what he was doing. She didn't deserve any of it, and she sure as hell didn't assent, yet Tucker had more than proven the argument he'd presented before he'd dragged her there to the bed. She was horny at his treatment, each swat amplifying her need, whether or not she understood its reasoning.

There should be nothing stimulating about any of this, yet the sting of his palm had morphed into something hot and slick, the moisture pooling copiously between her legs.

She inhaled as the next swat struck her, the resonance reverberating out from his strike, then back to the single focus of all the pleasure in her world—her throbbing clitoris. Tension crept into her muscles as the agony transformed into exquisite ecstasy.

Why do I love this?

"Forty-one, sir." She inhaled. "Thank you."

The truth was the words brought something akin to solace as she spoke them, as did the brush of his hand at her back. She wanted this, and he knew it. Worse was that she knew he wanted it, too.

Whatever messed-up ailment had infected her, it had clearly poisoned them both.

We deserve each other.

Her lips parted as he landed the next strike, then the next and the next. She heard herself articulating each number like the good little girl she'd apparently become, conscious of the heat at the apex of her thighs and his hand as it slid gently to her nape.

Her eyelids fluttered closed at the sense of possession. She liked the feeling of his fingers at the back of her neck almost as much as she liked them lodged in her cunt.

By the time the fiftieth swat had come and been counted, she could only think about feeling his cock inside her, and as his digits tightened at her nape, she accepted something else.

She'd never wanted anyone more than she wanted him.