Call me kitten (boyxboy love) ✓

54. My favorite thing (NSFW)

**WARNING**

This chapter contains discipline, impact play

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With a tug, he turned me around and pushed me towards the kitchen, not letting go of my arm, which was still pressed tightly against my back. Frantically I tried to understand why we were going to the kitchen, when we were already in the bedroom. He answered my unspoken question by pushing me down on my stomach over the kitchen table.

"Your bed is pitifully unequipped to properly tie you down in," he remarked coldly as he pushed my legs apart. "Hands in front of you on the table. Don't move."

The way he said it left no room for protest, so I remained leaning over the table with my arms outstretched in front of me. I heard him walk back into the bedroom. I took a deep breath. This was no problem; I had done this before and I could do it again. The main thing was that Ash seemed to have woken up from his temporary insanity and was acting more like himself again. Maybe a little too much like himself. After all, I certainly hadn't said any nice things to him.

"You... can use the paddle if you want," I said hesitantly to him, to maybe put him in a lighter mood.

But all I heard was a snort and footsteps coming back into the kitchen.

"You don't get to choose what you're punished with, if that's what you think."

Ash pulled my sweats off and tied my ankles tightly around the table legs on the short end of the table. His movements were firm and without the slightest softness and when he got to the other short side, he looked at me closely and cocked his head. His gaze was impossible to read, it glinted like blue fire, and he seemed totally focused on what he was doing right now. Without a word he tied my arms so that they were stretched across the table and suddenly I was completely pinned down. The only thing I could move now was my head.

"Ash, I-," I tried.

"Hush. The only thing I wanna hear coming out of your mouth right now is the number of hits you're getting. And keep the moaning to a minimum, we've got neighbors to think about, don't we?"

He gave me a meaningful raised eyebrow. My God, he was completely serious. My breathing became shallow, and I just looked back at him in silence. He nodded in pleased satisfaction to himself and walked behind me. The tools I could recall were the riding crop and the paddle. I hadn't seen anything else, and if I was reading Ash correctly now, I wasn't going to get the easiest of them. In other words, he must have picked the paddle. The blow from it I could still remember, and I squeezed my eyes shut. The cool leather of the broad paddle suddenly rested against one of my butt cheeks, as if he wanted me to know what was coming.

"Ready?" I heard him say, as the paddle caressed my skin.

No, not even  fucking close.

"Yes," I mumbled, barely able to exhale before the first blow came and I groaned. "One."

The pain of the blow was just as I remembered it, the initial shock of sharp pain spreading like a ripple through my body and then the dull ache. I knew I had managed it before. So, I concentrated hard on keeping count and not making too much noise. But when I had counted to seven, I began to realize something. He wasn't putting in as much effort as I thought he would. It wasn't at all like in Oubliette, where I had been completely out of it, now I was able to keep my thoughts in my head without any problems. It hurt, but it was totally bearable.

When I groaned out strike number ten, he suddenly stopped. He had been completely silent during the whipping, and I hadn't been able to turn around to get a glimpse of his mood. Was it over? Unable to stop myself, I exhaled loudly. Then I noticed him coming up to me with a small smile playing across his lips. In his hand he held a rattan cane. My heart did a double beat of pure dread.