Without him, I was part of nothing. Not even myself.
I lose the count somewhere after two hundred. I’m sobbing blindly, barely able to answer the questions he asks over and over. He’s counting for me since I can’t speak, still all on my left cheek, which feels beyond burned, beyond bruised. Even the feather of his breath across it makes me flinch and whimper.
Logan puts his hand in the small of my back and tugs back on the hand he has in my hair. “Now let’s hear some thanks.”
I don’t know if Mrs. Black could endure any more, but I can’t. “Thank you, Sir.”
I don’t say “ta” because whatever it is we’re doing, I’m not his little girl right now and he is totally not my daddy.
“Good. You’ve told me ‘no’ six times, while you’ve been learning your lesson, so that will be ten for each and a ‘thank you’.”
He spanks my unmarked cheek sixty times while I sob uncontrollably. I’ve never been spanked this thoroughly. Not so hard and for so long. At the end of each ten, he has me thank him and answer the questions again. I’m not even sure what my answers are, I’m crying so hard.
After the sixth thank you, he stops, but doesn’t release me. “Do you still love Ashley?”
I blubber. “What?”
“Ten. Count.” He doesn’t even pause for breath before hitting me ten more times. I shudder and sob through each strike.
After the tenth, he says, “What do you say?”
“Thank you, Sir!” I’m not getting that wrong, no matter what Mrs. Black would fucking do.
“Answer me this time. Do you still love Ashley?”
Did I say his name? I must have. “Nuh-no, Sir.”
“Good girl. Do you still feel betrayed?”
“Yuh-yes, Sir. That never goes away.”
“Good girl, Emily.”
He’s calling me by my name again. Thank the Lord.
“I’m proud of how honest you are,” he says.
He leans over me, enclosing my body with his. He holds me like that for several minutes, until my shaking stops, although I can’t stop the tears. Then he whispers right in my ear. “I want to be honest with you, Emily. I want to be as honest with you as you’ve been with me. More honest than I’ve ever been with anyone, even though it might send you running. You’ve earned it.”
I nod. It’s all I can manage.
“Through all of this, I’ve been thinking about my sister. She was clumsy. She hurt herself more times than I could count when we were kids. Scraped knees and bruises and, once, a chipped tooth. I was her big brother. I was the one who picked her up and kissed away her tears and made it better. But she made me angry, too. I wanted to put her over my knee and spank the carelessness out of her. She’s the first girl I wanted to spank.” He rubs his hand over my fevered ass cheeks, and I can’t control a whimper. “I called her, after the interview was over, just to hear her voice. I wanted to hear her say I’m the best brother in the world. That’s what she always tells me. She’s told me thousands of times. But I don’t believe her. You know why?” When I shake my head, he takes a deep breath and says, “Because for years, I dreamed of spanking her until her ass was as red as yours is right now. I dreamed, fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling you this. I dreamed of pushing her down and fucking her between those bright red cheeks.”
He wanted to fuck his sister? Is that what this is about?
“D-did you?” I ask softly, praying he says no but bracing myself for a yes. If I’ve finally found Logan’s flaw, this is a monster-sized one. He’s right, this is what could send me running, no matter how wonderful he is otherwise.
“No, of course not,” he says, and my heart thuds back into a painful rhythm. “But I wanted to. I thought about it. Dreamed about it. And today, when I was interviewing Mrs. Black, it all came back. I haven’t thought about Lizbeth that way in years. But there it was again. As fresh as when I was a kid. It made me feel betrayed, by my own brain.”
Now his questions make sense.
“Sir, you are the best brother in the world.” I snuffle and wipe my face. “I wish I’d had a brother like you. You took care of her. You never did anything about those thoughts. They’re just thoughts.”
“Sweetheart.” He gathers my hair in his hand and smooths it away from my face. “You cannot understand how bad they make me feel.”
Oh, I can.
“They’re just thoughts,” I repeat. “You didn’t act on them. You didn’t hurt your little sister. You protected her, Sir. Even from yourself.”
“How in the ever-loving fuck can you be okay about this?”
Because he said no instead of yes, and because I know all about hating yourself.
“A monster doesn’t worry about being a monster, Sir. The fact that you felt bad about it shows you’re a good person.” I rub my sticky eyes. “And it’s natural for a Dom to want to punish and protect his sub. I mean, that’s what she was, right? Your first sub?”
He nuzzles the soft spot behind my ear, his lips buzzing against my skin as he speaks. “I never thought of it that way, but, yes, she was.”
“Have you always known you were a Dom?” I ask hesitantly. Not all of my Doms have wanted to talk about their Dom-ness.
“You mean, have I always been a bossy asshole?” That would make me giggle if I wasn’t still sniffling. “My sister would probably say yes, but I only figured out my kink
