PAINFUL PLEASURE [COMPLETED]

9. Punishment

AVNEET'S POV

I watched as the color drained from Siddharth's face when he saw the toys. I internally smirked. He entered the room and opened his mouth to say something. I put a hand up, silencing him.

"Kneel," I commanded.

Still fully clothed, in his shirt and trousers, he sank to his knees on the hardwood floor of our playroom. He clasped his hands behind his back and lowered his head. I dragged a chair and sat a short distance away from him. Crossing one leg over the other, I tipped my chin up.

"I'll give you one chance to explain yourself. If your argument is convincing, then we'll go to sleep and forget about this. Otherwise..." I trailed off, letting my words hang in the air.

"Yes, mistress."

"Speak."

"I thought that woman was you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You thought it was me?" I repeated his words and huffed out an audible nonchalant laugh.

"I was drunk. I couldn't see properly mistress," he attempted to reason.

"And whose fault is it that you were drunk?" I asked, and he flinched.

"Mine, mistress."

I got to my feet and slowly walked in his direction.

"You let her touch what's mine," I choked out the words in disgust. Siddharth wriggled in his place, and his head still bowed.

"Please forgive me, mistress. It won't happen again," he pleaded. I relished the hint of desperation in his voice. Having Siddharth at my mercy is something I'll never get enough of.

I turned around and made my way to the table where I had displayed the toys.

"No, you won't. After this punishment, you won't ever repeat it," I declared and saw a visible shudder go down Siddharth's spine from the corner of my eye.

He was scared.

He was dreading what comes next.

He should have.

What happened next was different from what we did in our little playtime. This wasn't pleasure anymore. It was pain. He wouldn't get any mercy or aftercare.

And since the incident came under the category of cheating, intentional, or unintentional, I was entitled to use electric torture methods on him.

"Your belt," I demanded.

He removed his belt and gave it to me. I rolled the leather strap around my palm. There were many things in the playroom that I could have used as an alternative. But beating him with his belt has its own fun.

"Bring your filthy hands forward. The one's you touched her with," I spat.

He brought both hands forward.

"Count out loud."

I raise the belt. The leather whipped through the air, making a whispering sound before landing on Siddharth's right hand.

"One," he choked out through clenched teeth.

I raised the belt again. As the material made contact with Siddharth's skin, he pulled his hand back and rubbed it.

"Two," he counted and brought his hand forward.

"Tsk tsk," I taunted him. "Do you expect me to show mercy? This one won't be counted."

I whipped his right hand 10 times. It was completely red and I knew that it'll swell in some time. I moved to his left hand and whipped it 10 times, too.