The Prize by International Bestselling Author Ashe Barker

Chapter 5: Subspace

"Would you like us to help you to learn how to control yourself, Jessie?"

"Yes, please, Sir. Thank you."

"You're welcome, sweet little slut. So you'll be nice and still, now, and lift that delightful arse up good and high, yes? And you'll ask us for your spanking."

My thighs are aching from being restrained for the last thirty minutes or so, but still I manage to raise my bottom up a little more. "Please spank me, Sir. I need to learn how to behave."

Despite my enthusiasm for a decent spanking, I still wince when the flat of a paddle caresses my right buttock. Whichever Dom is wielding it strokes the implement back and forth across my waiting cheek before lifting it and bringing it down hard. It catches me full across the widest part and hurts like fuck.

"Aagh!" The pain sizzles and blooms across my skin. I absorb it, and can almost visualize the warmth seeping into my flesh. I stiffen as my left cheek is subjected to the same preparation before the strike lands, hot, fervent, demanding my breath. I gasp, then hiss as the pain crackles across my bottom.

They take it in turns to repeat, each one caressing my inflamed buttock with the paddle before delivering the strike. I count eight strokes, then ten, by which time my entire bum and thighs are aflame. My Doms for the night are meticulous and accurate, covering every inch, leaving no part of my bottom unscathed. I writhe, gasp, plead meaninglessly with them to stop whilst my body begs for more.

By the time I reach sixteen I'm less interested in counting, more in remaining in place. I bless the leather cuffs which keep me where I need to be, absolving me of responsibility as the pain grows, becomes a living entity, consuming me until nothing else is in my thoughts. I'm no longer screaming with each stroke, or if I am I can't hear it. There's nothing, nothing but me, them, and pain. Glorious, mind-emptying, purifying pain.

The sensation dulls slightly. Perhaps they are easing off, or maybe it's me, the endorphins doing their thing. Whatever, this is just as I need it, want it. I drift, blissful, contented as the paddling pushes me further into my own world of heady, blissful agony.

There's a voice, muffled, far away. It sounds pleasant, safe, comfortable. "Jessie, open your eyes."

I shake my head, attempting to turn away.

"Jessie, look at me, girl."

"No, not yet."

"Yes. Now." Fingers caress my jaw as other hands release me from my safe perch. I moan as I am lifted, carried across the room. "Open your eyes, love."

The voice is achingly gentle, yet insistent. I should obey. I have to, or, or... I manage to pry my eyelids apart, then blink them shut as the bright light assails my retinas.

"Too bright," I complain.

"Try again."

I do, to find the lighting is dimmed. I manage to peer up into a pair of vivid green eyes.

"Mark?"

He shakes his head. "Greg. That's Mark." He tilts his chin indicating a spot to my right. I look across the room. A second man, tall, broad-shouldered, his arms folded across his chest, regards me from several feet away. His features are not classically handsome, his eyes perhaps a little too dark, his hair cropped in a severe style, reminiscent of the military. He exudes authority and I stifle the urge to clamber from the warm haven of Greg's arms and drop to my knees

"Hello, Jessie." Mark inclines his head in a slight nod. "How are you doing?"

"I... I'm not sure." Subspace always leaves me feeling disorientated for several minutes. I hope they're still in no hurry.

"Here, take a few sips." Greg leans down and produces a bottle of water from somewhere beside him. He holds the open neck to my lips as I swallow.

"Thank you," I murmur, then lay my cheek against his chest. His shirt is of a soft, comfortable fabric. It feels expensive and I wonder if my make-up might smear it. "Oh, I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't—"

"Shh, no problem. Relax." He presses my face back into his chest and I inhale the clean, male scent of him.

Several minutes pass before Mark speaks again.

"Jessie, do you want to continue? We have more planned for you, but if you've had enough, that's fine too."

I lift my head, look from one to the other, surprised. As far as I'm concerned the evening has hardly started. "You promised to fuck me, both of you, together. I didn't miss that bit, did I?"

Mark laughs, the stern planes of his face softening. "No. You didn't miss it. We prefer our subs to be conscious when we fuck them, that's all. I take it you're still up for something pretty intense then?"