“Very nice,” Vance said, sitting down on the couch.
“You were seven minutes late, which means seven strokes. Now, I’ll give you a choice. You’re going to get paddled. Your choice is this: Face the boys and bend over, hands on your knees so they can see you take your paddling, or turn your back to them and lift your skirt so they get to watch your ass take it,” Jace said, walking toward me while Nick joined Vance on the couch to watch the show.
I looked at Jace, then at the paddle, then at his tightly stretched pants, and back at that paddle. It was long and rectangular and didn’t look at all friendly. Seven strokes with that thing would probably make the spanking I’d taken earlier seem like play.
“Lisa, I’m thirsty, and you’re holding things up.”
I glanced at Vance and Nick, both of them with wide grins, almost holding their breath. I knew it would be easier if I took it with my ass to them. Having to see them would be more humiliating than anything else. But when I took up the position Jace required, I moved without thinking, facing them squarely, bending over, placing my hands just above my knees and meeting their gazes.
I wanted this. I wanted them to watch me take it. I wanted them to witness my paddling.
Nick stroked his cock through his pants while I waited. Jace stepped closer and lifted my skirt up over my back then twisted the plug to flip the tail up as well, exposing my cheeks.
“Seven strokes. You won’t move and you’ll keep the count. If you break position, I will add strokes, understood?”
“Good.” He placed a hand at my lower back and held me against his thigh for support.
I almost softened at that gesture, almost, but then the first of the seven fell and all I could do was gasp for breath.
It hurt way more than his hand had.
He struck again, the paddle large enough to hit both cheeks at once in exactly the same spot.
“Two. Oh God.”
“Just the count will do.”
Someone on the couch chuckled.
“Are you looking at Vance and Nick?” Jace asked.
I met their gazes, which were glued to mine. Tears made my vision blur, though, as the third stroke fell “Three.”
He waited, rubbing the paddle against my ass, gripping my waist. A tear dropped off my face and onto the carpet just as Jace struck, that fourth one nearly making me tumble forward as I cried out.
No one spoke as the next strokes landed, two, each with a pause in between which only made it that much more unbearable.
“Last one,” Jace said, giving me even longer on this one, that minute the longest of my life.
“That’s a good girl.” Jace adjusted the tail then righted me, and I had to admit that the twist of the plug inside me added a whole other sensation to the agony of my paddling.
“Go get us some beers and serve dinner, Lisa.”
“Yes, Sir,” I managed, unable to meet the eyes of the men on the sofa as I sniffled and wiped my eyes. Once in the kitchen, I rubbed my butt, kneading the tender, hot flesh, tears escaping my eyes as I heard them pat Jace on the back.
I don’t know why I did it. Why I didn’t just walk out of the house and refuse. I should have done that. I should have wanted to do that. It wasn’t that he’d tell our parents about the pot. I wasn’t sure I cared if he did at this point. In fact, I bet he wouldn’t tell. But something else kept me there. Kept me going as I served drinks, my tail reminding me how exposed I was with each step, knowing three sets of eyes watched me even though they spoke as if I weren’t there at all. It made me even more aroused.
Dinner went by without a hitch. Almost. Until I dropped a wine glass to the floor and it shattered. At least it had been empty, but all the same, Jace touched the paddle on the table.
“Oh, no, please. I’m sorry, Sir. It was an accident.”
“Is your ass sore, Lisa?”
“All right, how about a choice. Time on the couch, your skirt lifted, like you were earlier, or take six strokes of the paddle.”
Why did submission make me so fucking hot? Even as it humiliated me, I dripped.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Sir?” I added.
“Until it’s time for dessert.”
I glanced at the paddle then at the men. They’d all seen me already. Why would this matter?”
“I’ll take the couch, Sir.”
He nodded. “Go ahead then. Push that ass out so we can see it properly. If you don’t, you’ll get paddled beforehand anyway.”