CHAPTER 7
Heaven had to admit that she was proud of herself. Working with the kind of chocolate Angel used was still new to her. Some of her decorating skills transferred over to working with candy, but there were still differences even then. She’d used modeling chocolate when she needed to, but fondant had always been easier to work with.
And all of that aside, what Angel did with chocolate was very different from how she’d used it for finishing touches on her cakes. But she’d learned a lot from him. It was one of the things that made her so anxious to start baking again. She knew the things he’d taught her would bring her cakes to a new level.
The little market might not have been perfect, but given the amount of time she’d had, it was pretty darn good, if she did say so herself. The number of compliments about it was embarrassing. She started to feel guilty for stealing her Angel’s moment, but he didn’t seem to mind at all.
“We’re partners now, Heaven Leigh. Why would I mind?” He gave her a surprised look.
“I don’t know. I mean, you’re the chocolatier, not me,” she mumbled.
He rolled his eyes. “And you’re the nationally known baker who used to have a television show. I think there’s plenty of glory to go around. Besides,” he pulled her up close against his side. “I like having a partner and your idea really made everything pop. I think it looks better than it would have before the accident.”
She frowned, looking up at him to see if he was serious. “But… it’s not nearly as detailed.”
“No, it’s not, and yet no one cares.” Angel drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“That’s not?—”
“Look, chiquita , the truth is… you have a more practical mindset about these things. I’m an artist. The creation aspect is what I love, so all the tiny perfect details are important to me. To me , but not necessarily to the audience. Do you think tiny perfect hand-carved chickens taste better than ones right out of a mold?”
“I… no, I guess not.”
He pulled her over to stand right in front of the buffet and pointed at the castle. “You’re standing where the audience stands right now. From here, how many of those tiny little details can you even see?”
She leaned in, squinting. “Well, I can make out the… okay, not many I guess.”
“Exactly.”
“But, Daddy, sometimes people can get closer. Sometimes they do get to see all of that work you put in, especially on the big pieces. Plus when we took the pictures, I got close-ups on all of it.”
“Yes, and that’s why there’s a place for chocolatiers like me who treat it as an art and go the extra mile. My work pushes the boundaries of what is possible with a temporary medium. And I make a lot of effort to ensure it tastes just as good as it looks, because flavor is also an expression of creativity. I want people to enjoy what they see, and then enjoy eating it too.”
He hugged her from behind and she leaned back against him with a contented sigh. “That just proves my rushed little market isn’t better,” she pointed out.
“What it proves is that there is a place for ‘art,’ but highly detailed expressions aren’t always what is needed, especially when time is short. We could have had a few scattered, lonely-looking villagers, with tons of detail that people could barely see from here. Instead we have a whole scene, with life and color, and clever little touches that draw attention.”
“That doesn’t mean people should like my part more. Your castle is incredible and so are the little royals,” she said, a stubborn tone creeping into her voice.
“No, what it means, mi corazón , is that together, as partners , we blended two styles and managed to make something better. We did that. So we will take the credit.”
“I just—” She felt a hard pinch on her thigh and squeaked.
“ We . Will. Take. The. Credit,” he repeated firmly and with extra emphasis. “No arguing, little girl. And while we’re on the subject, I think a reward is in order.”
She twisted, looking up at him. “A reward?”
“Mhm, for saving the day and being such an amazing help when I was stressed.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead.
She squirmed as a shiver rolled down her back. “What kind of reward?”
“Well, I was thinking we could slip out and head over to the Dungeon to release some stress with a good girl scene, but if you feel like you need some Little time, we could go home, put on a movie and snuggle. Or maybe pull out the board games?”
He often gave her choices like that. It helped to be able to decide based on her headspace and made her feel like she had more control over her life. Heaven had learned, with Angel, that she could be a sub and a Little, and still feel like she had power in their relationship. Most of the struggles about who she was and what she needed had evaporated once he’d figured out that options were important.
And right now, both of those choices sounded wonderful. After a full day of work, and her own level of stress under the time crunch, she would have loved to decompress and let him take care of her. Slipping into a child-like headspace was a great way to let go of the world and all the adult problems that came with it.
But she wasn’t honestly sure she’d be able to fully enjoy Little time just then. Her professional work-mode was still engaged, and it sometimes wasn’t so easy to switch into a younger mindset. It was a more passive place. Either it was there, or it wasn’t.
Oh, sure, she could pretend to be Little, but then it was more like ageplay. It was roleplay, a game, and there was a certain kind of fun to be had in pretending, but being Little wasn’t the same thing at all. It was something she had struggled to explain to others, and she knew they often didn’t get the difference.
When she was being a Little, she was fully immersed in a child headspace. Her attention span was short. She made bad decisions because she didn’t think things through. She needed her Daddy to watch over her, because she wasn’t capable of being a responsible adult at those times.
That’s why she was under strict rules not to go to work when she was feeling Little. It was a fair rule, and not one to ever be broken. It would tarnish her professional reputation and, more importantly, disappoint a lot of people who trusted her.
But although her Little side was a natural part of who she was, shifting into that space, or out of it, wasn’t always easy, especially when she’d locked it away to focus on work.
Ageplay was something she could shrug on or off. It could be relaxing to sit and color, or watch movies and act like a kid, but her adult mind was present and could take over at any time, without needing to transition. She’d had to do a lot of ageplay when she lived in the Littles’ Wing, just to fit in, and that had been a major cause of frustration when her mind was firmly on the adult setting.
Pretending to be Little took effort, being a Little was the most natural thing in the world for her, but it couldn’t be forced. If she chose Little time tonight, she knew she’d most likely never fully settle into the right headspace. It would be nice… but not what she needed, and it only took her a minute to decide that.
“I think a good girl scene in the Dungeon would be great, Daddy.” She paused, and then asked, “Do you think we can head home for a shower and a change of clothes though? I’m grungy from working all day.”
He laughed. “That’s a great idea, chiquita . Let me have a quick word with Derek and then we’ll make our escape.”
She used the time to straighten the buffet one last time. The puppet snack trays no longer resembled their famous characters as too much of the fruits and vegetables had been devoured. A good thing, she thought. But with some skillful combining, she was able to make what was left look appealing.
“Ready, Heaven?”
Angel was smiling as she stepped away from the table. “I am. Master Derek’s okay with us leaving?” She knew Angel usually liked to stay until the end, at which time he’d allow the Littles to ravage the chocolate before cleaning up.
“All things considered, I think he’s glad we’re going to take a break. I told him I’d come over in the morning to clean up.”
They hurried home for separate showers as sharing one would have guaranteed they never actually made it to the Dungeon. He carried a bag, though he wouldn’t tell her what was in it, and half an hour later they were checking in with security and entering through the double doors. It was almost always open, but it was currently quiet. Only a few couples, and one trio, were using the playspace.
Her eyes were drawn to one scene happening at the spanking bench, and she couldn’t help staring as the Domme skillfully wielded a crop. Her submissive was strapped down, and unable to do much more than wiggle frantically as she tried to evade the leather tip.
Angel slipped an arm around her waist. “Derek offered the use of one of the private themed rooms and I thought you might like that, but then I remembered how… intently you were watching the spankings earlier today.”
A wave of heat rushed up her neck, coloring her face as her eyes snapped up to meet his. “Oh, I?—”
“Yes?” He tilted his head. His hand slipped down to cup her ass, squeezing gently.
“I was just… just curious.” There had been more to it than that. Watching had given her the trembles and little flippy feelings low inside. It was exciting to see a spanking, as exciting as it was to receive one, but in a different way.
“Uh-huh. You looked more than curious, mi corazón . Tell me, how did you feel about seeing me spank someone else?”
Heaven Leigh swallowed hard. She was tempted to lie, but this was her Daddy, and she really didn’t want a reward to turn into a punishment. “I’m not sure how I feel yet. I haven’t had enough time to think about it, but I-I kind of liked seeing it.” She squirmed, embarrassed. “I mean, I liked watching all three spankings, but with you…”
“With me, what, Heaven?”
She didn’t have the words to explain it, not really, but she tried. “I think I was a little bit jealous at first. I mean you’re my Daddy, not hers, but then I decided I was glad it wasn’t me because those spatulas are the Devil.” Her distaste for the rubber scrapers couldn’t be hidden.
His mouth tilted up at one side. “They do make an impression.”
“Plus, I figure Sadie shares her Daddy all the time, so I can share you now and then.” Then she paused, frowned, and added, “Just for spankings though. I’m not sharing you for anything else.” Her tone was so fierce it made him laugh.
“Good. I don’t want to be shared for anything else.”
“And there’s something kind of fun about watching someone being punished.” Her eyes went back to the cropping without conscious thought. “Any kind of spanking really, but punishment especially is… exciting.”
“So, my naughty Little girl likes to watch, hmm?”
Her eyes snapped back to his. “It’s weird, right? I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have been enjoying—” She cut herself off and tried again. “I mean, it was punishment—it’s just that… ugh.” She gave up with a frustrated groan. “I don’t know how to say it without sounding like a weirdo.”
Angel laughed and shook his head. “Oh, mi amor . Sometimes I forget how innocent you are. Despite everything you’ve seen and done, there are still things you don’t understand.”
Heaven Leigh pouted, pulling away from his arm. Her embarrassment took a turn and now she felt guilty too. “What? I know it’s wrong, but I can’t exactly help how I feel.”
He reached out and took her hand, drew her over to the comfortable seating area, and pulled her down to sit next to him. “Heaven, did you happen to notice how the Dungeon is laid out?”
She tilted her head, squinting a little. “Uh, sure. I mean we’ve been here before.” Not as often as she would have liked, but more than a few times.
He pointed at the playspace below. “Can you see everything happening down there?”
Heaven’s glance flicked over to the people below and then back to him. “Yes, Daddy.” She was glad that he chose a couch with a good view of the cropping scene, but she wasn’t sure what his point was.
“Do you think it’s an accident that they arranged the seating like this?” He didn’t wait for her to reply this time but took her hand as he continued, “ Chiquita a lot of people enjoy watching. There’s nothing wrong or weird about it. And just as many people enjoy being watched.”
“But not when they are being punished. It’s not fun to know people can see you being punished,” she argued.
“It’s not fun for you . You don’t like an audience when you’re being punished, and that really has nothing to do with the punishment, and everything to do with you not wanting people to know you did something wrong.”
“But…” She trailed off, realizing she couldn’t argue the point. She hated people knowing she was in trouble. Being in trouble meant she failed and that was always a struggle for her. Like so many things it probably went back to her childhood.
Her parents didn’t spank, but they were big on shaming and shunning. If she didn’t want to hear, “Don’t talk to your sister. She’s a bad girl,” then she had to be perfect. Always.
“So you’re saying everyone else is fine with people watching them get spanked?” She couldn’t believe that was true.
Angel laughed. “No, I’m sure lots of people hate it, just maybe not as much as you do. But there are reasons for public punishments, whether or not people want to be watched. Knowing there is an audience adds another level to the punishment for them. Embarrassment often makes it more effective.”
“Master Derek said that once, when I asked why spankings happened in public so much.” She paused, then added, “He also said ‘Do you have any idea how little work would get done if every misbehaving sub and Little had to be taken off and dealt with privately?’.”
“That’s fair,” Angel laughed again. “Poor Derek would never get anything done.”
She had to admit it was true, although Master Derek had given most of her punishments privately, for which she was truly grateful. The few public ones had been excruciating. She’d felt like every eye was on her.
“But, as I said, you don’t mind being watched. You just don’t like people knowing you’re being punished.” He waved an arm to indicate the Dungeon. “You’ve never minded scening in public here, have you?”
“No, Daddy. You’re right. It’s different. But today was punishment, and I felt bad for…”
When she didn’t continue, he filled in the rest for her. “For enjoying the show?”
She shifted on the cushion and nodded. “They deserved it, of course, but I shouldn’t want to see my friends being punished, crying. It’s not nice.” Mostly she felt bad about Pippi, who she considered a friend. She felt a kinship with the redhead, who sometimes seemed to feel out of place too.
He squeezed her hand. “They weren’t punished because of anything you did, Heaven Leigh. And they were going to be punished regardless of whether or not you watched. I doubt they were even thinking about you being there at all. I should think it was the least of their concerns at the moment.”
All true, but it really didn’t settle the point. “I know.”
One eyebrow went up. “You know, but you still feel guilty. Be careful, young lady, or I might decide you need a punishment more than a reward.”
Her eyes widened and she sat up straight. “No thank you, Sir. I don’t feel that guilty about it,” she assured him. Whether it was true, she wasn’t sure, but she knew that punishment wasn’t what she was wanting in that moment.
“Mhm, well, I suspect this is going to be a long-term goal, and part of learning to accept who you are. So, we’ll work on it. For now… I want to hear you say, ‘There’s nothing wrong with enjoying what happens in front of me’.”
Heaven gave him a look, frowning. “Daddy…”
“I mean it. It would be different if you had been sneaking around and spying, but you weren’t. You simply enjoyed what you were allowed to see. It’s no different than watching a scene here and enjoying it.” He jerked his chin toward the playspace, before continuing, “And believe me, if Master Derek hadn’t wanted you to see the spankings, he would have sent you out. That man misses nothing.”
Okay, she couldn’t argue that. She’d been where she was supposed to be and seen what she was allowed to see. By that logic… she supposed it was okay to enjoy it. But she didn’t want to say it out loud and waited until her Daddy nudged her, before obeying with a sigh. “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying what happens in front of me.”
He smiled wide enough to flash white teeth. “That’s my girl. Now, are you ready for your reward?”
She shivered and nodded with barely suppressed eagerness. “Yes, Sir.”
“Excellent. I have a treat for my sweet submissive.” He stood up and pulled her along with him.
She followed him with a quick step, wondering what he had in mind. They stopped at the St. Andrew’s Cross and her heart sped up. Her tongue slid across her bottom lip as she examined it up close. They’d never used it before, and she’d always been curious.
The glossy wood seemed to invite her touch, and before she knew it her fingers were gliding over the smooth surface. “It’s pretty.”
Angel pushed her ponytail, still damp from the quick shower, out of the way, and nibbled the side of her neck. “Not as pretty as it will be with you on it,” he said.
The words tickled as his breath brushed across her ear, and she shivered. She leaned back against him with a sigh. “I love you.”
“I love you too, mi corazón . Now… you stand right here. Keep looking at the cross, and don’t peek.”
When he pulled away, she automatically started to turn before the order sank in. It wasn’t hard to guess that he was going to get implements and she heard the armoire doors opening, which confirmed that assumption.
Being ordered not to look, of course, made her desperately curious, and it was so tempting to sneak a quick glance… but not worth the possible consequences. She didn’t want to watch the other players anymore either. As interesting as their scenes were, now she wanted to focus on her own.
She forced herself to turn back to the cross, and then focused on the wood grain. Her fingers traced each line embedded in the polished surface. She didn’t look in his direction, no matter how much she wanted to.
In a second, Angel had returned. “Such a good girl,” he crooned as he set some things down on the handy table that stood by the cross. Before she could see what he’d taken from the cabinets, he turned her away and wrapped a red silk blindfold over her eyes.
Tied in place and adjusted, the last line of light disappeared and she was left in the dark. Her skin stippled, little bumps of excitement rising and pulling things tight. Her nipples grew hard and rubbed against her shirt.
“How does that feel?” he asked.
“Good.” It felt better than good. With her vision cut off, suddenly her world had narrowed to just his voice and her body and she was very aware of both. Distantly she could hear the sounds of other people playing, but she no longer had any interest in what they were doing.
He reached around to unbutton her shirt and helped her shrug it off. The skirt went next—she had dressed up a little for the adventure—and she had a second of worry as they got down to her underwear. What if he’d forgotten…
“The red matches the blindfold so beautifully, so I think we’ll leave your panties and bra on,” he said, at the same time reassuring her, and making it seem as though he was simply choosing how to present her.
She was grateful for the small kindness. She still struggled with full nudity, even in a play space where other people were naked. Even when it was perfectly acceptable to be without clothing, her upbringing had left her with the remnants of too much body modesty and shame over bare skin to be comfortable.
Her lingerie set covered as much as a bikini would have, and even though her strict religious parents would never have allowed her to wear one when she was a teenager, she’d been able to acclimatize that much. She’d also learned to accept having her panties down when she was bent over, though it had been hard when she first arrived at the Ranch.
She simply made sure to keep her legs together, at least until it hurt so much she was no longer concerned with modesty, and then it didn’t matter. But for a scene like this, standing up, with other people in the room… she’d have felt too exposed to truly relax.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
A light kiss on her shoulder was his answer. And then he lifted her arms and cuffed them above her head one at a time. She could feel the soft fur that lined the inside of the cuffs, and when she gave an experimental tug, she heard the rattling sound of chains as they moved but found herself quite secure.
Removing one sense improved the others—or so they said. All Heaven Leigh knew was that without her sight, she was more aware of every touch, every breeze that crossed her skin. Sensations seemed heightened, and when her head tipped back and her hair grazed across her bare back, she shuddered.
Angel laughed and kissed the back of her neck. “If you think you’re sensitive now, just wait.”
She was eager to see, or rather feel, what he had planned. He didn’t make her wait. A few seconds later she heard a whoosh-whoosh-whoosh sound, and then felt a rain of featherlight touches all across her back. She recognized the implement immediately. “Oooh, a flogger!” she blurted.
“Mhm, I don’t get to do this often enough.”
Heaven Leigh would never have thought flogging would be up her alley before coming to Rawhide. She’d seen floggings in pirate movies, and read about them as horrible judicial punishments, so even when she’d found mentions on BDSM sites online… she’d still assumed it was for hardcore players.
She’d been wrong, or at least she’d been wrong in thinking there was only one type. There were harsh floggers, she’d heard. Ones made of heavy leather, almost like rope, and with knots that would bruise the skin when they landed, but that wasn’t Angel’s style.
He’d introduced her to the sensual joy of suede floggers, with their long soft strands of velvet. They brought such a variety of sensation, depending on how he used them. But it was always enjoyable.
With full-armed swings the heavy thud was like a deep tissue massage. With a little twist and snap it could sting. And with light flicks like he was currently using, it was teasing, like butterfly kisses that made her ache for more.
It had become one of her favorite things. Definitely suitable for a reward scene. She made a happy sound as she let her forehead rest against the cool wood and prepared to melt away.
Angel took plenty of time to build the scene. At first, he aimed so the strands barely touched her, just the tips teasing as they swung by. She felt the breeze as they passed more often than she actually felt them touch her skin. Gradually he moved in, so that the soft suede was raining delightfully across her back, hips and thighs.
Every now and then he’d make a few strokes burn. The leather would wrap across her body with a sharp snap, and she’d catch her breath, but then he’d shift back to a soft rain of slaps that eased the sting away. When she got too comfortable with that, he’d throw in some heavy thudding blows across her shoulders or the center of her ass where she had plenty of muscle to absorb them.
The heavy strokes rocked her body and the impact was loud in the open space, but the feeling was never as intense as she expected. It didn’t hurt the way a paddle would, but it left a deeper soreness that she enjoyed while it lasted.
She wasn’t sure how long the scene went on because her conscious mind disengaged fairly early on, leaving her with just sensations. She felt like she was lying in shallow water being rolled back and forth with each wave and it was wonderful.
“They’re watching you, mi corazón .”
The whisper against her ear seemed to come out of nowhere, and she jerked. She hadn’t even realized he’d stopped. Her first attempt to talk, didn’t work right. Her tongue felt awkward and heavy, but she gave it another try. “They are?” Her voice was husky, almost sleepy sounding when she finally managed words.
“Mhm.” He drew his fingernails over her warm back, tracing lines that the flogger had left. It triggered a shiver and wrenched a moan from her. “They’re enjoying the show. They’ve been listening to all those little sounds you’ve been making. How do you feel about that?”
Her skin felt tight. Her nerve-endings tingled, and every time his nails scratched across her skin, her pussy pulsed in demand. Her panties were soaked. She could feel the fabric clinging to her, and he was asking how she felt about people watching her like this? Watching her like she was some wanton submissive on display, which… she was.
She felt sexy, which wasn’t something she felt often. “I… like it.” That sounded lame, but she wasn’t really capable of anything more detailed.
“I thought you might.” He nipped at her earlobe and pulled back.