Made to Submit

17. Time to Use it

I finished the paddle 3 days ago. It's glossy and cold. My ass has also healed, for the most part. The last week and a half has brought down the swelling and left only slight pink marks where the cane hit.

I would've thought that I'd get my punishment over with already. But Hale hasn't deemed it the "right time" yet. The right time? When is there even a right time?

I spent the last couple days cleaning the house from top to bottom. Over and over again. I don't want to just sit still otherwise the anticipation will kill me. I need things to get my mind off of everything. Cleaning does a good job of clearing my mind. And Hale lives in a mansion.

I've washed the floors, cleaned all the sheets, washed the windows and mirrors, reorganized all the kitchen appliances and dusted the entire mansion.

Also, it's really cold in the mansion now. With the weather turning colder, the mansion is turning colder too. But I'm getting "clothes" that are more and more revealing.

And kneeing on the cold tile for long amounts of time is terrible, so I can't clean too much either. I'm seriously thinking of wrapping my comforter around me and wearing that all day.

I head up to my room and open my dresser. Maybe there's a sweater I can wear. Something easy to slip on and off. And easy to hide from Hale when I hear him coming.

I find a gray cardigan and slip it on. It's a winter cardigan but it might as well be winter in this house. How is Hale not freezing? He wears short sleeves and jeans. At least it's a lot more covering than I have.

And the fact that my period is over means I sometimes don't get anything better than a thong. I believe that thongs are Hale's favorite choice of clothing.

I could probably bake something. It'll warm the kitchen and warm me. But Hale would go haywire if I didn't ask him. Why do I care about his reaction? He isn't in charge of me. The more time I spend, the worse this will get.

I walk into the pantry and find all the necessary ingredients for chocolate chip cookies. Those are perfect for cold days.

I preheat the oven before getting to work with the cookies. When I'm done, the sink is full of dishes and flour litters the area around the bowl. I put the cookies in the oven and head upstairs. I can clean up the mess later.

I grab the blanket from my bed to wear like a shawl. If possible, the house is even colder. I head to the kitchen to check on the cookies. Instead I find Hale scolding at me.

"What's the reasoning behind this mess?"

"I made cookies," I say as I pass him to check the cookies.

"I can see that. I'm fine with you cooking as long as you clean up after yourself. And you didn't clean up." He blocks my way to the oven.

"I'm not the maid. You have enough money to hire one to do the cleaning." I dodge him and grab some oven mitts.

"I don't need a maid. I clean up after myself. And you need to clean up after yourself too."

I pull the cookies out of the oven and place the pan on the cooling rack.

"How about I take the cookies off the pan and you wash the dishes," I suggest.

"Or you can wash the dishes and I'll take the cookies off the pan." He says, handing me the dish rag.

"How about we do my way." I drape the rag on his shoulder. Hopefully it ruins his shirt.

"Then you'll be spanked and the cookies will harden too much to eat and you'll still wash the dishes," Hale says as he bends me over the counter. I move to stand back up but he pushes me further up, the material of the bra making it a smooth ride. He holds me down when my toes can barely touch the ground. The blanket falls to the ground.

"You need to learn how to listen. You're lucky I'm your Dom. Others would've whipped you close to death by now. Your position is on your knees, submissive and waiting to serve."

Any good thoughts I've had about Hale disappeared at those words.

I hear the drawer next to me open and close. I wonder what he's getting. Whatever it is can't hurt that bad.

I felt a cool, round object on my left cheeks. It was smaller than my hand, but I knew Hale would't have chosen it randomly. It had a purpose. Which was to set my ass on fire, I thought as it came down on my ass. The tiny thing packed in a lot of pain in one hit. Soon it came down on the other cheek.

The smooth surface alternated between cheeks and sit spots, and taps or smacks. Soon I wiggled with the slightest tap. It's not that my butt was on fire, just really sensitive now.

"I was going to drop your punishment from earlier, but you've left me no choice with your constant disobedience. Go get the paddle and meet me in the playroom, on your knees, ready to serve." Hale stops spanking me and he drops a wooden spoon on the counter. He opens another drawer and pulls out a pancake turner, probably to take the cookies off the sheet.

"Stop dawdling and do as your told or you'll be sore the whole month." Hale snaps and I pick up the blanket and scurry upstairs. I grab the paddle from under my bed and head to the playroom. I take off my cardigan, bra, and thong and hang them on the hooks at the entrance of the room.

I kneel just before Hale walks into the room, eating a cookie.

"These are delicious cookies. Too bad you won't be able to eat any fresh out of the oven." He walks over to a cabinet and pulls out a bottle of something. Can't really tell what it is.

He places it on a table behind me and picks up the paddle.

"On the spanking bench," he orders and I rush over. If he's using the bench, this must be a bad punishment because the bench was reserved for worse punishments in the academy when subs had to be strapped down.

"I slowly bend myself over it and wait for Hale to fasten the restraints.

"The restraints are to make sure you don't disobey again. Your ass won't be able to handle any more punishment after this."

He spreads my legs only slightly and ties them down. Then he positions my arms spread eagle and fastens them down. He uses a strap to keep my waist down on the bench.

The first hit stings like hell. My already spanked butt has been "warmed up" but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

Hale spanks me with no pattern, just like before. I can't tell how much time has passed. All I know is that my ass and sit spots are now burning.

"Last ones. I want you to count them and thank me."

The paddle comes down on my left cheek and I let out a, "One Sir. Thank you, Sir."

Next it lands on my right cheek and I let out a strangled count and thank you. Hale aims the last two at my sit spots, harder than the rest of the hits. I let out screeches both times and need reminding to count.

After Hale puts away the paddle on a new hook on the wall, he comes over to me and unfastens all the bindings. He lifts me up and carries me to the bed. He carefully sets me down on my stomach. My tears blur my vision but I see him head back to the door. He can't just be leaving me, can he.

But he returns, with the mysterious bottle in hand. Now that it's closer, I can tell it's lotion. Hale crawls over to the center where I am and uncaps the bottle. Slowly and carefully, he massages some lotion into a portion of my ass. I flinch every time he touches a new part but the lotion relaxes my skin. He continues until my entire ass has been coated in lotion. Near the end, a moan slips out of my mouth and my tears abruptly stop due to my shock.

When Hale realizes I stopped crying, he asks, "Do you want to stay here, or should I carry you to your room?"

I must be having a mental breakdown because for a moment I thought he was going to ask if I wanted to stay with him.

"I'd like to stay here. The sheets are silk and less bothersome." I reply and move a little to get comfortable.

Then, as if reading my mind, he asks, "Would you like me to stay here with you?" Knowing I'll regret it tomorrow, but not listening to my brain, I reply, "Yes."