I have to bend my legs to do chin-ups. I was hoping it’d be the right height, so her feet still touched. Turns out, it was perfect. She was on tiptoe, her body stretched beautifully.
“There aren’t a set number of strikes per demerit. It’s more about how long you cry than how many times the belt lands. If you let go, I’ll put you on the floor, bind you with your legs spread and raised, and your pussy will get it instead of your ass and thighs. I suggest you hold on.”
Punishment sessions don’t include a warmup, so I hit her hard right off the bat. Ten times, one after another without a pause. Her screams filled the room and echoed back. She wasn’t crying yet, but she wasn’t far from it. My apartment was at the back corner of the complex, which meant only two neighbors were close enough to hear. One wasn’t home, the other was probably beating off. Mad Dog put me back here for a reason.
A round of twelve more had her closer to tears, and then fifteen more had tears streaming down her face. Sixteen demerits. Now that she was crying, she’d get approximately another one hundred and sixty strikes, but she’d never know my formula. It’s possible I’d make them twice as hard and only give eighty, or ease up on them a tiny bit and give her two hundred. I needed a way to make the pain work out for the number of demerits, but this little kitten didn’t need to know what she was in for. I could sense it from the start — some submissives do best knowing consequences so they don’t misbehave, others need it to be an unknown, else they’ll make a risk assessment before they break a rule.
Kitty wanted to submit. She didn’t want the power of knowing what she was in for if she broke a rule.
I gave her two more rounds of sixteen and stopped.
“What’s one hundred and three plus seventy.”
“I don’t know!”
“It isn’t difficult. One hundred and three plus seventy.”
She shook her head, and I pinched and twisted her nipple. “Seventy plus three.”
“Seventy-three!”
“Plus one hundred.”
“One hundred and seventy-three!”
I pinched her nipple harder and pulled it away from her chest. She was a natural C cup, and beautifully shaped. I love the way tits look when you contort them out of shape.
“One hundred and three plus seventy?” I asked again.
“One hundred and seventy-three!”
“Good girl.”
I let go of her nipple, watched her boob form back into its naturally perfect shape, and then stepped behind her and struck another sixteen times. Her screams made my dick throb, and then her sobs when I gave her a small break made it pulse faster.
The math served two purposes. It kept her out of subspace, so she’d feel every strike, and it kept her from counting how many times I hit her.
“Seventeen times three.”
I counted to ten in my head before I reached around and grabbed the same nipple. “It isn’t that difficult. Break it down.”
Kitty
My mind wanted to splinter, but I focused. Fifteen times three. Fifteen plus fifteen plus fifteen is forty-five, add six and you get, “Fifty-one!”
He let go of my nipple and stepped behind me again. I braced for the belt, hoping I could keep from screaming so much this time.
By the time he finished, I was a mess. My heart raced in my chest, and I felt my thundering pulse with every nerve ending in my body. Even my toenails moved up and down as my blood pounded through my veins. I could smell massive bruising — not surprising since I’d felt every blasted stripe of his belt.
And those damned math problems had made it impossible to sink into my mind. I winced inwardly when I cursed in my head, but it felt good to think it.
My hands were wrapped so tightly around the chin-up bar, Squatch had to help me move my fingers off so I could let go. He took me to bed, made me blow my nose, washed my face with a cool washcloth, and then held me against his massive chest with his tree-trunk sized arms around me, but it wasn’t claustrophobic. I didn’t want to be anywhere else.
I cried and then sobbed until his chest was soaked, but he merely held me and rubbed my back, with an occasional kiss to the top of my head.
When I was finally breathing something close to normal and my tears had stopped, he told me, “Six hours until you can change. You can do it when you wake tomorrow, and then I’ll eat and head into work. I should only have to be gone a few hours. I’ll rearrange my schedule so I’m off on Mondays with you, after tomorrow.”
I shook my head. My pulse raced again, and I couldn’t help it. “I can’t change here, and I’ll need three hours after, before anyone can see me.”
He froze behind me. “Why do you suddenly smell terrified?”
I took a breath and blew it out. When he’d given me all those rules, I’d known it would come to this. It was crazy to think I could move in with him and keep my secrets. If I was smart, I’d tell him this wasn’t going to work, and I’d leave.
But we’d started this dance, and he wasn’t going to let me get away with that. I knew it without even trying.
So, I took another breath and tried to find a way through the potential minefield. “We’re headed into something beyond safeword territory. You know how you had rules that weren’t negotiable? This is like that. I have a few requirements, and if you can’t live with them, this can’t work. I will never change around you, and I need at least three hours after I change before you or anyone else can see me. What’s more, I need you to never tell anyone this. Doing so can put me in grave danger. Also, just asking around about tigers could draw attention to me that could put me and my family in danger. You must never talk to anyone about my oddities.”
He rubbed my back and kissed the top of my head. “I agreed to tell you my secrets at the end of a month.”
“I can never tell you. Only my father or uncle can, and I can promise you that neither of them will.” Not to a wolf, and especially not a wolf I was submitting to. They would lose their shit.
“So, to recap, I can’t see your tiger, and I can’t see you in human form for three hours after you’ve changed. I can’t ask you about it, and I can’t talk to anyone else about it?”
“Right, and there’s something else. If you figure it out, or even just part of it, I won’t be able to talk about it. I’ll need you to just let it drop.” Because I wore brown contacts to cover my iridescent blue eyes, and he was bound to notice at some point, but I needed him not to.
He was silent a long time. Three or four minutes, at least. He held me, and snuggled me, but I couldn’t snuggle back. I’d finally broke through that damned wall he had around him, and if I lost him this quickly, I’d be devastated. I hadn’t thought anything with him would be possible, but now it was, and I couldn’t have the rug pulled out from under me so quickly.
I’d agreed to give up my safeword because I trust him. Before we were a thing, he’d once looked me over from head to toe after I’d been next door with a client and known I needed food and another five minutes before I walked back into Blaze. I have no idea how he knew, but he did, and he didn’t suggest I stop by the vending machines and grab something, he’d ordered me to. He’d know if something was wrong in a scene, and he’d stop. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he’d back off if he realized I was in true distress, so I’d agreed to give up my safeword even though Brooke had told me it was something I should never, ever agree to. Now, I had to hope that by showing him how much I trusted him, that he’d want to return the favor and trust I had no other options. I have to hide who I am, and there’s no way around that.