Temporary Master (16 page)

“Even
though I warned you and gave you a way out, you still persisted, knowing what
the end result would be.”

She
nodded, guilt building in her.
“Yes, Sir.”

He
exhaled loudly. “Then you leave me no other choice. If you’re going to act like
a child, ’I'll treat you as one.” He moved over to a ladder back chair she
hadn’t noticed before. Sinking on to it, he gestured for her to come closer.
“Over my knees, Sabella.”

Scrambling
to her feet, she rushed to his side before gingerly draping her body face down
over his legs. Bracing her palms flat on the surface of the hardwood, she
waited for the first blow.

“What’s
your safeword, Sabella?” The request surprised her.

“Dobby,
Sir.”

“Good.”
He drew in several long breaths as his hand rubbed lightly over her elevated
bottom. “Do you know what I wanted to do tonight when I saw you?”

“No,
Sir.”

“I
wanted to snatch you up and take you back to my training room. To guide you
further down the path. We could’ve been breathing together, working together to
bring you closer to your goal, but instead we’re here and I’m forced to dole
out a punishment I’d hoped to avoid.”

She
wanted to sob. He was speaking of the connection she’d been looking for when
she’d arrived at the club. And like the impatient fool she was, she’d managed
to mess it up. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Even
if I believed you, which I do, you’d look at me with disparagement for not following
through with my promise. A good Dom keeps his word even when he doesn’t want
to.” His body, under her, seemed to tense. “It’ll be ten swats with a paddle on
your bare ass. Five for acting like a child and five for ignoring the warnings,
which not only I gave you but Davis did as well. Do you accept the consequences
of your actions, Sabella?”

“Yes,
Sir.”
She fought the
sting of tears. She deserved no less.

“Lift.”
His hand was at the waistband of her leggings, her poet’s shirt pulled up high,
already exposing the small of her back. Obediently she did as he requested,
shivering just a bit as the cool air hit her skin. “Relax,” he ordered as one
arm came down across her back. “Count off, little one.”

She
braced herself for the blow but nothing prepared her for the sting of wood
against her bottom. She jerked as the first tear spilled down her cheek, but
didn’t struggle.
“One, Sir.”

The
next came amazingly fast. She hissed as pain shot up her spine. He was
right,
this was punishment plain and simple. There was
nothing erotic about this spanking. “Two, Sir.” She was ready to beg his
forgiveness and promise to never act this way again. He had made his point.

With
a flurry of movements, he delivered the last eight spanks. “Ten, Sir…” She was
openly sobbing now, her bum on fire as horrible remorse filled her heart.

“Shh,
it is done now.” Ethan guided her back upright, cradling her on his lap, after
retrieving a blanket from somewhere. She whimpered as the soft cotton wrapped
around her, the fibers rough against the hot and swollen skin of her rump. He
pressed her close, murmuring soft words of comfort. The cathartic, emotional
release of his punishment had her lying limp in his arms as he soothed her. His
words barely
registered,
her active mind blank for once.

When
she stirred several minutes later, she had no idea of how long she’d clung to
him, tears wetting the front of his fine Japanese silk shirt.
“Sabella?”
His voice was once more calm, comforting, almost
reassuring in its tone. She lifted her head, meeting his gaze.

“Sir?”

He
brushed his thumb over her lower lip, his eyes capturing hers. “It’s done.
Everything’s once again normal between us. There’ll be no more hurt feelings,
and this incident is forgiven and soon to be forgotten.”

She
stared at him, barely able to believe he meant what he said. “No throwing it up
in my face later?”

He
thumbed away a tear. “No. We’re even again - a clean slate. Agreed?” He pressed
a kiss against her forehead.

She
nodded.
“Yes, Sir.”

He
pressed a kiss to her ear. “Tomorrow we shall finish the discussion you wanted,
but for tonight I merely wish to hold you.”

“Yes,
Sir.”
She sank back
into his embrace, allowing the steady thud of his heart to lull her. Tomorrow
would be soon enough to deal with their relationship, or lack of one.

“And
that was the turning point, Mrs. D.” Sabella sipped coffee at her father’s
dining room table. Mrs. Di’Angelo had come over to make supper for the older
Johnston, and to give Sabella some ‘motherly’ advice.
And hopefully a dose
of reality to snap me out this sinking suspicion that I’m once again falling
for my Dom.
“It’s been nearly three weeks and six scenes later since he
paddled me. The man is driving me insane with his talk of holding me to the
same standards he holds himself, but never doing anything outside of our
training which could even be considered Dom like.”

Mrs.
D. cocked her head, a perplexed look upon her face.
“Nothing
Dom-like?
Why? Because he’s giving you exactly what you want?”

Setting
down the cup, Sabella gave a shrug. “I don’t know…maybe.” She cupped her chin
in her hand. “I thought I wanted to be treated like an equal, and I’d still be
able to experience the same pleasure I had the first time he bound me.”

“And
now?”
Looking over
the rim of her glasses, Mrs. D. took a sip of her tea.

Toying
with the handle of the cup, Sabella sighed. “I want the closeness I experienced
during my punishment. He hasn’t changed per
se,
he
merely seems a bit more distant, more composed than he was. That night, I
pushed hard and he pushed back. Now, he just gives me a look, one which
promises more of the same if I try the same stunt again, and I cave.” She
pushed the cup away. “It’s like I want it but yet I don’t.”

“Hmm,
it sounds like you want the connection you found with him following
your
…” She lowered her voice in deference to Sabella’s
father, who happened to be watching a football in the next room. “…spanking,
but you don’t want to experience the pain.”

“Exactly.”
She grimaced. “It leaves me with
quite the predicament.”

Mrs.
D. sighed. “You know you could simply open your mouth and ask. Explain to him
what you just told me. If he’s the Dom you say he’s supposed to be, he’ll
understand. Considering what I’ve heard and read, a Dom is supposed to crave
the connection the same way a submissive does.”

“Only
in a BDSM Utopia.
Besides, according to his partner, he looks at subs as merely temporary
propositions. I don’t need that kind of heartache.” Standing, she walked the
coffee cup into the kitchen, as the clock in the living room chimed the hour.
“Perhaps it’s better to not feel it again, if in the end he plans on giving me
to another - not that I’d let him.” As the sixth peel filled the air, there was
a knock on the apartment door. Her Dom was nothing if not punctual. She’d just
finished putting her rinsed mug into the strainer when her father yelled he’d
get the door. She wanted to protest but Ethan had insisted he wanted to meet
her father, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer again. She had a
feeling he particularly wanted to speak to her dad about their staying
overnight at the hotel the day of the Kinkfest. At first, she’d thought he’d
been joking, but when he’d continued to insist upon the meeting, she’d
grudgingly agreed. Even if she was a grown woman who didn’t need her dad’s
permission to go out of town, it wasn’t as if Andrew Johnston honestly had any
illusions about his only daughter still being a virgin.

“Bella,
your date’s here.” Her father walked into the kitchen followed closely behind
by Ethan. Dressed casually in his normal charcoal silk dress pants, a deep
green turtleneck sweater and a dark overcoat, he made her mouth water. As
usual, when they were not in a scene, his dreadlocks were free, flowing over
his shoulders and framing his slender face. She longed to touch the twisted
hair, but hadn’t had the courage to ask him yet.

“Good
evening, Sabella.” He came forward and lifted her hand to his lips, brushing
his lips over the pulse of her inner wrist. “You look lovely tonight, little
one.”

“Thank
you, Sir…I mean Ethan.” She was quick to adjust the title, very aware of her
father’s presence in the room. It was one thing to open and honest about her
needs with Ms. D., but her father was a beast of another color.

“So
are you going to introduce me to your beau, Bella?” Andrew rounded the table to
lean up against the counter. “You’ve been seeing this young man for the past
month, but I never hear anything about him.”

She
drew in a deep breath for fortitude before answering. “Dad, this Dr. Ethan
Tremaine. He’s a psychiatrist and has a place out on Highway 121. I met him
through Lauren.” Gesturing towards her father, she quickly introduced him and
Mrs. D. “Ethan, this is my father, Andrew Johnston and the lovely woman
standing by him, is Louisa Di’Angelo.”

Ethan
gave a slight bow towards her dad. “It’s a pleasure to meet the father of such
a wonderful woman.” He turned to Mrs. D. “And the lovely young lady who helped
raised my Sabella.”

Mrs.
D. actually giggled, as her dad squinted up at Ethan. “You look like you might
have some Okinawan in you. That right?”

Ethan
gave a graceful nod.
“A bit, Sir, on my mother’s side.
Her father was a seaweed farmer on Okinawa, but her mother is a true
Nihonjin,
or Japanese in my grandmother’s case. She
was quite shocked when her daughter fell for an African American.”

Andrew
eyes narrowed. “You prejudiced, boy?”

Sabella
wanted to groan.
Not this…for heaven’s sake, Dad, don’t start this…
,please
.
Racism was one of her dad’s hot buttons, ever
since he’d married a non-Jewish girl against his mother’s wishes.

“Not
in the least bit.” As if reading her mind, Ethan placed a reassuring hand on
the small of her back, even as embarrassment heated her face. “It’d be rather
hypocritical don’t you think, considering my origins?”

“It
wouldn’t be the first time.” Andrew shrugged his shoulders, before continuing
on as if he hadn’t just insulted Sabella’s guest. “So you’re taking out my
daughter.
To a nice restaurant?”

“Of
course.
The owner of
Cole’s Chop House is a close friend, and he pulled a few strings to hold us a
table, as long as we’re there by seven.”

Andrew
smiled. “Damn, Bella girl, you’re going to be eating fine tonight.”

Gluing
a smile on her face, she leaned in to give her father a kiss. “Daddy, I told
you Ethan always takes care of me.” Giving him a peck, she pulled back. “He
won’t even move the car until I have my seatbelt all buckled. I’m perfectly
safe with him.”

Andrew
looked from Ethan to her and finally
back
to Ethan, a
silent communication more telling than a thousand words ever could have been.
After Andrew walked them to the door, Ethan took her jacket from the coat tree,
before helping her into it. Once it was zipped up, she stepped out into the
hall, her purse in hand and stopped to wait for him. “I won’t have her out too
late, Mr. Johnston,” Ethan reassured Andrew. “I have appointments tomorrow.”

Sabella
sighed. “Whether or not you have appointments, Ethan, you do realize I’m nearly
twenty-eight, and I don’t have a curfew?”

“Your
age has nothing to do with it, Sabella.
 
It’s merely a common
courtesy when one lives at home with their parents.”

Shaking
her head as her face heated once more, she wondered if the floor would open up
and swallow her - especially when her father guffawed. Even Mrs. D. cracked a smile.

“Regardless
of what she thinks, I’ll have her home by eleven.” The predatory look he gave
her wasn’t lost on her dad.

“Young
man, I do believe you have my daughter bamboozled.”

Ethan
gave a slow grin. “Oh, your daughter knows exactly what she’s getting into by
being with me. Don’t you, little one?”

A
startled squeak passed her lips as his hand gently wrapped around the back of
her neck to pull her close. Her eyes locked with his then drifted shut as he
brushed his lips over hers. Incredibly soft against hers, she barely had the
time to savor her first kiss from him before he was drawing away, his
expression hungry. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

She
nodded, but suddenly it wasn’t food she was hungry for.

* * * *

Following
the hostess to their table, Sabella was intensely aware of the palm resting at
the small of her back. Ethan had made small talk for the entire drive from
Sabella’s apartment to the restaurant, as if he done nothing out of the
ordinary.
This is exactly what I was telling Mrs. D. about. He’s acting as
if he’s never held me against him, spanked me, or kissed me.