Chapter 35
Aiden
…
A 52
“Present your ass, Noah.”
I didn’t want to say it; I’d already pushed him far tonight–too far for a first session, maybe. But this wasn’t about what I wanted. It never
was.
This was about structure. Consistency. Integrity, and if I let that slip now, even once, I’d be doing him a disservice, because despite the
pain, despite the tears… he was still with me.
He hadn’t run.
He hadn’t begged for it to stop.
He’d trembled. He’d struggled, and yet, he had obeyed and thanked me…. And that trust? That willingness to give me his body and his
obedience? It was priceless.
I didn’t enjoy punishing my submissives–especially not Noah. Especially not now, with thoughts creeping into my mind that I didn’t dare
name yet. Thoughts of keeping him. Protecting him. Wanting him to need me, not just kneel for me.
I didn’t take pleasure in their pain.
I took pleasure in their peace.
In the joy I could give them.
The safety. The purpose,
Punishment wasn’t a kink. It was a necessity, and one day, I knew Noah would crave it too. Not the pain–but the clarity. The release. The knowing where he stood–and judging by the way his cock hardened each time I caressed him with the crop, I was sure pain was one of
his kinks as well.
But tonight? Tonight he’d accepted it.
He’d trusted that I wouldn’t abuse the power he’d handed me…. Until he disobeyed.
I watched as he began to sit, still trembling, trying to catch his breath. He hadn’t even thought. Just moved.
And then came the instinctive response–raw and still defiant.
“But–why?” His voice cracked slightly.
20:09 Sat, Jan 31
Chapter 35
I closed my eyes for a beat.
Two more.
I stepped forward, quiet and controlled. “That’s two.”
He froze.
“You were told not to move until given permission. And you sat up.”
He didn’t argue this time. Just clenched his jaw.
“The second…” I exhaled slowly. “You asked why.”
I circled around him and picked up the crop again.
:
“You will never ask why when given an order by your Master,” I said, voice calm but firm. “Not because I can do what I want to you–but because you trust that there is always a reason behind my command. A reason for your safety. Your growth. Your happiness. Even when
you can’t see it at the time.”
He didn’t speak. Didn’t nod. But he moved to drop into position—head down. Legs apart. Exposed.
Beautiful.
I gave him ten strokes. Slower this time. Sharper–I was no longer holding back but making him experience the full blow, the bite on his
already reddened flesh, the sting…
He flinched. Twitched. Struggled to keep still.
By the sixth, he started to whimper, tears rolling down his cheeks.
But he didn’t move.
Not until it was over.
When I set the crop aside, I walked to him carefully, watching for signs that he’d had enough.
His voice broke the silence, low and raw. “Thank you, Sir.”
This time, he stayed there. Didn’t move a muscle, didn’t shift. Didn’t breathe too loud.
Just waited.
Good boy.
2/
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Chapter 35
…
:
He was still on the floor, knees spread, head bowed, shivering slightly as he tried to catch his breath. Silent. Obedient.
But not okay. Not yet.
The sniffle that escaped him was barely audible, but I heard it. I always heard him.
(52)
“You may stand,” I said gently. “Come with me.”
He moved slowly, limbs heavy, red lashes damp. I led him down the hall and into my bedroom–simple, private, quiet. When he stepped
inside, he hovered near the edge, unsure where to go.
I nodded toward the bed. “You’re allowed.”
He hesitated–just for a second–but then climbed in, careful, almost cautious.
I laid back and pulled him against me, cradling him into the warmth of my body, one arm tight around his back, the other stroking his
hair.
He melted. No resistance. No smart remarks. Just soft surrender.
I pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. “You did very well tonight.”
He didn’t respond at first. Just breathed. Tucked into me like he’d always belonged there.
“I’m not putting you through anything I haven’t gone through myself,” I said quietly.
He stirred against me. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I’ve been there. I’ve submitted. I’ve been trained. Punished. Broken down and rebuilt.”
He lifted his head slightly, eyes searching mine. “You… were a submissive?”
I nodded. “No man should dare to train a submissive unless he’s lived it first. Unless he knows, intimately, what obedience feels like. What
it costs. What it gives.”
“But you’re…” He trailed off. “You’re so…”
“In control?” I smiled faintly. “Exactly. Because I know what it feels like to give it up. A good Master must’ve once been a slave.”
He didn’t speak. But something changed in his gaze. Respect. Maybe even awe. His fingers brushed along my chest, tentative and reverent.
I kept stroking his hair, then his face. Thumb gliding along his cheekbone. His skin was still flushed from the punishment, from the kiss
of leather, but it was soft. Beautiful.
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Chapter 35
His eyes fluttered shut, and then–slowly, instinctively–he took my hand and kissed it. Just once. Gentle.
My chest ached.
He looked up at me again, lips barely parted, breath shaky, gaze completely open.
And then… he leaned in.
Our mouths brushed–soft, questioning.
The kiss wasn’t perfect. It was hesitant. Raw. But it was his. His choice.
52
I didn’t stop him. Instead, I cupped the back of his neck, deepened it, claimed it. Our lips moved in slow tandem–then faster, hungrier, as
his hands fisted my shirt and mine tangled in his hair.
The kiss turned ravenous–tongues sliding, breaths colliding, teeth catching on lips. He moaned into my mouth, and I drank it in.
I bit his lower lip–gentle, then rough–just enough to feel him shudder in my arms.
I wanted him. I needed him…, but I couldn’t take him.
Not yet.
So I did the only thing I could. I broke the kiss slowly, breathlessly.
He whimpered when I pulled away, forehead pressed to mine, still trying to chase my mouth.
“Not tonight,” I whispered. “Not like this.”
He didn’t argue. Didn’t pull back… He just exhaled, collapsed into me, and let me hold him.
We lay there for a long time, neither of us speaking. My thumb traced soft circles on his back, as his heartbeat slowly steadied against mine, and finally… he slept. Wrapped in my arms. Still marked by discipline. Still glowing with something that felt suspiciously like love.
I held him tighter and didn’t close my eyes once.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
