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I try to put the throbbing ache out of my mind and focus on answering his questions. “I trust you, Sir. Whatever punishment you choose will be the one I deserve.”

He nods his head, looking proud of the answer I gave. “I think a spanking would be fair. I will even be nice and let you choose what I should spank you with,” he replies.

It’s been a long time since I was spanked for pleasure, and it takes all of my effort not to think about the times it was used as a really degrading punishment. Instead, I remember that everything I’m doing with Evan is consensual, and it’s all for my pleasure.

He’s not doing this to cause me harm, or to exert his authority over me in a degrading way. He may be in charge, but he’s made it more than clear that I’m the one with all the power.

“I’m assuming your hand is not an option, Sir?” I ask politely.

“You assume correctly. Unless, of course, there’s nothing in the room you think is suitable.” Although his tone remains stern, and he tries to stay in character, I can hear the undertone of what he’s saying. If I can’t find anything that won’t be triggering for me, then he will use his hand, but he wants me to at least try, if I can.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot something that may work. “The hairbrush over there, Sir,” I say, pointing over to the dresser in the corner of the room.

Since I’ve been spending most of my time in Evan’s room, most of the things I use every day have slowly made their way into his space. The large wooden paddle brush I use on my hair was one of the first things I’d brought, and it’s never left since.

Evan walks over to where I was pointing, and picks up the wooden paddle brush. It’s got a small handle, but a wide rectangle shaped head. The opposite side to the bristles is flat, and I imagine it will make quite a good paddle for spanking with. Evan twirls it around in his hand, inspecting to see if it’s suitable.

He doesn’t say a word, but when he moves back over to stand in front of me, he still has the brush in his hand. He holds it up so that I can see, a wicked smile causing the corners of his mouth to tip up.

“And how many blows can you take?” he mutters, slapping the paddle brush down into his other open palm, as an example. The slap against his bare palm echoes around the room, and my ass starts to sting in anticipation.

I open my mouth, but quickly close it again. Although I know I have to answer him, I don’t think there’s a right answer here. If I give an answer that's lower than he expects, he will chastise me for not punishing myself adequately. But if I give him an answer higher than he expects, I will end up receiving more blows than he originally planned, when I don’t need to.

But if you stay quiet, that’s another reason for him to punish you, my brain reminds me.Fuck, I’m so screwed.

I take a deep breath, hoping I can pull the correct answer out of nowhere. “I can take as many blows as you think I deserve.”

Evan chuckles, dark and so fucking sexy my stomach twists. “Correct answer, Angel. You are such a good girl.”

Evan begins to walk around me again, his eyes raking over my body, while he continues to stroke the paddle brush in the most lude way. My breathing speeds up, and I know he can tell as mychest rises and falls rapidly. My heart is beating so fast, I can hear the pounding in my ears.

“Hmm, what position to put you in?” he muses to himself. “Shall I throw you over my knee, or have you lean against the wall? Maybe I should make you bend over the chair?”

With each suggestion that tumbles from his lips, my desire grows. I don’t think about which I’d prefer, as I know I won’t get a say in it. And if I’m being honest, at this point, I just want him to get on with it so he can touch me.

My body is on fire, and all my nerve endings are tingling with anticipation. The wait is killing me, but Evan knows that, which is why he’s dragging it out.

When I see him take a seat at the foot of the bed, I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from smiling at his choice. “Get over here, Teigan. I’m going to show you how naughty little sluts like you get punished.”

Without hesitation, I do as I’m told. As soon as I’m in reaching distance, Evan grabs hold of my arm and pulls me onto his lap. My head hangs down one side, my legs the other, as my tits squash against his muscular thighs. I can feel his hard length beneath me.

I want to shuffle around, to try and at least get a little comfortable, but Evan’s grip on my hip stops me. Using just one hand, he pins me to his lap, while he uses the other to spread my legs a little wider.

The cool air hits my exposed pussy, sending a shiver through me, and I have to bite my lip to hold back a groan.

“Don’t you look all pretty presented to me like this?” Evan mumbles, rubbing his hand over my ass.

I’m tingling all over in anticipation, and I’m so lost in the moment, it doesn’t even register that Evan asked me a question.

SMACK!

Evan brings the paddle brush down against my right ass cheek hard, the sound of the brush connecting with my flesh echoes around the room, only to be drowned out by my cry of pain. My ass begins to sting, and a burning heat spreads out over my cheek.

Gently, Evan massages his hand over what I’m sure will be a red area, the cool from his palm helping to soothe the burn that’s still growing. I whimper as he helps to dull the pain.

“I’ve asked you two questions now, Teigan. I expect you to answer me,” he scolds, as his hand continues to rub slow, gentle circles into my skin.

Every so often, the tip of his finger will edge close to my aching pussy, but not close enough to give me any kind of relief. He’s teasing me in the worst way, and I know when this is all over, I’m going to be a mess.