“Where do you want me to take you today? What do you need?” Dominant though he was, he always requested her input before they started one of their sessions. He needed to understand where she was physically and emotionally and how far he could take her into the depths of her submission. Did she need something more playful? A funishment? Some quick swats to jolt her into a submissive frame of mind?

Or did she need something darker…more profound…

“It’s been a long time since the last spanking, Sir. I’ve missed you…your touch…your special kind of pain…your marks. And I want all of it.” She couldn’t hide from him. Not anymore. He understood and embraced her masochistic glory just as she worshipped at the altar of his sadism. She craved everything he could give her and trusted him implicitly to deliver her to a place where she would soar in her submission to him. The smile pasted on his face told her that he understood her needs and that he was delighted to have the opportunity to imprint himself on her bottom and on her soul. 

“Thank you for your honesty, my girl. You know this won’t be easy for you.” It wasn’t a question; it was a pure statement of fact. He would be punishing her today…punishing her for nothing more than the crime of being a needy little submissive. And she’d be feeling his attentions for days to come. She nodded in assent as she steeled herself for what she’d asked for. She was now a complicit conspirator in her own demise.

“Good girl.” Those words further liquified her molten submission, and her knees trembled beneath her. “Now, come over here. Across my lap.”

The breath hitched in her throat and her feet sprouted roots, anchoring her in place. She may have wanted—and asked for—what was about to happen, but her body’s protective instinct engaged in a last ditch effort to save her. But when it came to him, it was in vain.

“Now,” he ordered and she was powerless to resist his command. She was his…now, forever, always. And she’d never be able to resist his pull. She met his eyes and crossed the room in submissive obedience. She was over his lap before she could give it another thought. 

“That’s the good girl I love,” he whispered as he caressed her bottom. “Now let’s give my little pain slut what she needs, hm?” He chuckled softly as he flipped her short skirt up and pinned it against her lower back to hold her in place. As his submissive, she wasn’t allowed to wear panties, so this was one less obstacle between them and where they both needed to go. He pressed his thumb against the jeweled plug in her bottom, another requirement he had of her during her anal training. She moaned lasciviously, squirming against his firm thighs.

“Through words and actions, you’ve been asking for some extra attention tonight. And I’m going to give it to you, my girl, so settle in. I’m taking you to dark orange.”

Dark orange.

On a scale from green to red – and every lemongrass, chartreuse, and marigold shade in between – dark orange would be the deepest and hardest they’d ever explored together. They’d flirted with deeper sessions before—and both understood that they would reach red at some point together—but this was a new depth for them. A shiver coursed through her body and she reared up in a protective gesture. His hand kept her where he wanted her. “Tsk, tsk, you’re not going anywhere. Not until I’ve finished giving you what you need.” She exhaled a shuddering breath and did her best to relax against his lap.

When the first barrage of stinging spanks came, his palm popping across her bare bottom and exposed sit spots, the initial shock faded quickly into a familiar singeing warmth and she sighed against his calf. “Enjoying your warm-up, baby?” He continued peppering her exposed, squirming ass. “You’re already turning a nice shade of pink for me. But pink isn’t going to get you to dark orange, my little pain princess, is it?” She groaned as his words caressed her very soul and reminded her of what he had in store for her. He leveled a nasty, biting spank across her, his firm palm grazing the plug and clipping both cheeks. “Use your words.”

“Yes, Sir,” she grunted through clenched teeth, pain and embarrassment tingeing her confession. “I want dark orange.”

“Good girl. And you’re going to tell me when you get there…and I’ll decide whether or not you’ve had enough.” 

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” Each word coupled with another smack across her exposed backside.

He picked up the sandal next, the leather one that made the best noises against her ass…and elicited the best noises from her as well. With her bottom already sensitive from the warmup, the sandal seared across her backside as he gained in speed and intensity.

Echoes of the sandal strikes and her whimpering filled the room. “That’s it, my girl…tell me how much it hurts…tell me how much you like it…tell me how much you need this…and thank me for all of it.” His harsh murmuring penetrated her psyche through the endorphin-laden fog and rendered her hypnotized, entranced by the delicious pain he doled out.

“Thank you,” she rasped as her hand flew back to protect herself from a particularly vicious blow on her hip. 

“Uh uh,” he pinned her errant hand against her lower back. “We’re not to dark orange yet, are we? You’re not done until I say you’re done, and you don’t dare use those hands again,” he growled as he intensified his onslaught. “And, for that infraction, my naughty little pain slut, you don’t get to rub your bottom.” She groaned and slumped against his lap, the burning sear settling into her ass and radiating through her overwrought body. She hadn’t even considered rubbing her abused cheeks until now, but after he’d planted the idea in her head, it was all she could think of. And this is exactly what he wanted.

“I’ll bet you wish you could get some comfort for this stinging, aching bottom of yours, hm?” he teased her. “Well, I won’t rub, but maybe I can distract you a bit before the final push.” He put the sandal down, and she took a ragged breath during the momentary reprieve. “That’s it…deep breaths for me…in…and out…in…and out….good.” As her breathing regulated under his tutelage, he gripped the base of the plug buried in her ass and began tugging and tapping, stimulating her needy little hole. She moaned and twisted on his lap. The additional teasing only served to exacerbate the burn and ache, but it served another dark, hidden purpose. 

In an unconscious shift that seemed as natural as breathing, her brain switched over. She was no longer his submissive, no longer his pain slut…no. She was now his slave. A slave to the pain he was providing her, a slave to the experience he wanted to give her.

“Where are you right now, my girl? Are you hitting the limits?” He let go of the plug, and her greedy hole pulled it back into its rightful place.

“Mmm…good, Master…want dark orange…want everything.” She’d lost control of some of her speech, but she retained what mattered most in this moment—her ability to refer to him as “Master.” 

His reaction was immediate. He grabbed the final implement—a wooden spoon—and put it before her lips to kiss it. His erection dug into her side as wetness coated her inner thighs. “Master is about to take his slave home.”

She quickly lost count of how many times the spoon connected with her searing cheeks. And she’d long since given up struggling, kicking, and crying out. What was the point in carrying on when they both knew that this was exactly what she needed? Fat tears trailed down her face and dropped to the plush carpet beneath her. She sniffled as the pop, pop, pop of the spoon filled the room. 

“Orange…dark orange!” she croaked, barely able to force herself to admit it. 

“Just a few more, my slave…you’re so close.” 

Within moments and after a dozen more harsh blows, he threw the spoon to the floor and he pulled her into a cradled position against him in the bed. Sobs wracked her body, and she released a guttural scream against his chest…a release, a catharsis, a call of communion with the man who owned her. 

“That’s my girl. Shhh. That’s my girl. You did such a good job for me. Breathe now. Let it out…let it all out for me…I’ve got you…I’ve got you and I’m never letting you go…” He whispered encouragement as she trembled against him. “Such a strong, brave girl…my good girl…”

“Th-thank you, Sir,” she mumbled against his chest, still sniffling from her tears.

“Thank you for what?”

“Thank you for giving me what I needed, for knowing how to take me there, and for being brave enough to push me further than I thought I could go.” Her words miraculously returned in the aftermath of her ordeal, as he blanketed her in his warmth and praise. 

“You’ve never called me ‘Master’ before. How do you feel about that?”

“Um, not really sure…but it felt…right.”

“It felt right to me, too. And, full disclosure, you know that calling me that once isn’t going to be enough for me…I’m going to want to hear that more from now on.”

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to keep exploring the deep orange with each other, Master, hm?”

“I guess we will, my little slave, I guess we will.”