His Slave

30. Lash Out

"Turn around and bend over," James hisses at me, not bothering to hide his anger anymore.

I swallow hard, my heart pounding in my ears. I am scared.

"Y-yes, Master," I stutter in response before doing what I'm told. Once I'm leaning over the counter, James pulls my underwear down, dropping them at my ankles. Panic shoots through me and I'm about to protest but something stiff connects with my bare ass. There is an explosion of pain, worse than any I've ever felt before. Worse than when he whipped me with the riding crop.

I cry out and try to push myself up, but a firm hand presses me back against the cool steel tabletop.

"Don't attempt to get up again, or I'll double the punishment. Do you understand me?" James demands, keeping his hand pressed to my back.

"Yes... Master," I barely manage to gasp before he spanks me again. I try not to writhe too much as the pain burns through me. I will be strong, or at least appear to be.

I feel the harsh sting of solid wood against my tender flesh again and I let out a groan, tears springing to my eyes. I reach forward with my hands and curl my fingertips under the ledge of the tabletop to prevent myself from trying to get out of this. I don't know how many spankings he's planning on administering, but I definitely don't want double.

The fourth wrenches a sob from my throat. The fifth spanking is worse than the last four and I am about to beg James for mercy. But that old familiar stubbornness swells up in my chest like the rising ocean tide and I stop myself. I know he wants me to beg for mercy and I don't want to give him what he wants right now. So I force myself to stay silent.

By the ninth, I have given up on any attempts to appear strong and I am sobbing. James didn't ask me to count but I'm keeping a tally in my head anyways. Or at least, trying to. Was that nine? Or ten? I don't remember.

The stiff wooden paddle comes down on my ass again and another sob escapes from somewhere deep inside of me. The edge of the tabletop cuts into my fingers as I cling to it for dear life. My midsection is sore from resting against the table for so long.

After a while I stop trying to count and I'm not sure how many times he's spanked me. Fifteen? Twenty? It doesn't matter. I couldn't keep myself from drinking coffee for even a single day, let alone a full week. I deserve to be punished.

Don't I? A bit of doubt rises up in me then and I try to make sense of my feelings, but I can't. I'm too tired and the pain has made me a little delirious. When I'm certain I can't take any more, I finally give in and resort to begging him for mercy.

"M-Master...," I manage to gasp out. "P-pl... please s-stop," I stutter through my tears. My backside throbs with pain.

"Why should I do that?" James demands bitterly, though there's just a hint of levity in his words.

"I'll be good... I won't... disobey or lie to... you a-again," I manage to say, my breaths ragged and uneven.

There's a moment of silence. "And?" James prompts, clearly wanting more from me.

And? And what? What else does he want from me? Oh.

"And I... won't touch another drop... of c-coffee until... you say it's okay," I say uncertainly, hoping that is what he's looking for.

"Good. What else, slave?" He asks me curiously, prepared to spank me again if I give the wrong answer.

I swallow and try to think. What other rules did I break? I think about how I begged him to stop. Maybe he's mad that I spoke out of turn? But he's never punished me for that before. I think back to when I was at the Dalton's earlier. When James came to get me I addressed him properly... but I didn't kneel.