Sir shook his head and blinked like he was waking up from a dream. “More than okay. You’re the toughest little girl, you know that?”
Oh dear. Sir almost never called her a little girl. She called him one of her daddies when she talked about Daddy and Papa and Sir in the collective, but Sir rarely acted like one. Which was fine. She already had double daddies on duty and that was enough almost all the time even for her. And if Sir was going to start calling her a little girl on the regular, she was going to be a drooling heap of squishy little all the time.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Let’s get a look at your back before I decide what to do with you.”
“Yes, Sir.”
She turned over so he could inspect the damage he’d done, and rejoiced when he pinched at some of the marks, drew his close-clipped nails over the skin that was sensitive and no doubt pink from the flogging. Yes, that was her Sir. Sadistic but careful, and now that he knew she wanted to play some more, he wouldn’t treat her like she was fragile. She loved that about him.
Once he’d finished examining her to his heart’s content, he rested a hand at the small of her back.
“I’m not going to whip you any more. But I am going to spank and fuck you, and put you in some predicament bondage.”
It wasn’t a question and she was glad for it. Cosima didn’t want him to question her. She wanted the default to be that he trusted her strength and wouldn’t hold back. Because he trusted her to say if it was actually too much. She thought about saying “Yes, Sir,” anyhow, in case he was waiting for confirmation after what had happened earlier, but her words got turned into a strangled cry when a really hard spank landed across her cheeks. Yay!
* * *
Ryker
He’d spanked Cosima across his lap until her backside was red, swollen, and hot to the touch. Gorgeous little thing. He loved the symphony of her squeals and gasps and pitiful whimpers. And now that she was warmed through and tender, he could have even more fun with her.
“Are ye ready to give into me now, lassie?”
There was a second of shocked pause followed by a snicker she tried gamely to swallow. He smacked her for it, hard, and took a little solace in her sharp inhale. He couldn’t take playing with her like this all the time and he didn’t think she’d want him to—that was what Ian and Hudson were for—but on special occasions or once in while to shake things up, why not?
“No, never!” she cried, for which he swatted her again, her choked shriek a balm to his sadist’s soul.
“Then I guess we’re doing this the hard way.”
He stood and flung her over his shoulder, laying strikes across her backside as she struggled and kicked. She was strong, but he knew that already. In another bay of the club, he wrestled her onto a tiered spanking bench. Her knees were on one platform, and her torso and head could rest on a higher one so her hips and knees made ninety degree angles. He clipped her cuffs to an attachment point and used the attached leather straps to keep her still-ish while he got the actual bondage in place.
Clamps that had vicious little teeth to bite into the tender flesh of her sweet nipples with chains so he could fasten them to attachment points near her wrists. If she pulled, they’d tighten. A lightly lubed hook that he pushed unceremoniously into her ass and anchored with rope to the same surface. But Cosima could take those small torments all day.
What she did not like, however, was spice. Not in the bedroom, obviously, because his little one was as kinky as the day was long, and probably the whole night too. But she didn’t care for spicy foods.
Anything hot like ginger or chilis. Even too much cinnamon made her wrinkle her bunny nose and say in her little voice, “Too spicy, Daddy!” Or on the unfortunate occasions when Ian cooked, “Ouchie on my tongue, Papa!” To be fair, Ian’s cooking could be ouchie on his tongue too, but that wasn’t the point.
The point was that he’d sourced a few unusual condoms and he was going to use them to toy with her. More.
First things first, he put one of the balls in her hand that would make a jangly racket if she dropped it to the hard floor. Cosima looked up at him and nodded to confirm she knew what it was for, and then he turned to the bench where he’d draped a towel over the things he intended to use on her.
A gag that would hold her lips and teeth open but not interfere with the movement of her tongue was first. She tipped her head, curious, but didn’t argue or ask questions. Just let him feed the cumbersome thing into her mouth and buckle it around the back of her next. Beautiful little submissive.
Then he ripped open the condom packets, the smell of them strong even over the scent of heavy duty cleaning and sanitizing products they used on the club equipment. Behind him, the ball rattled but didn’t fall, and he maybe smirked. He doubted Cosima could guess precisely what he had in mind, but she’d figure it out soon enough.
He rolled the latex sheaths over dildos and then lined them up before turning back to Cosima.
“With your fingers, tell me one, two, or three.”
It was wicked to demand an answer when she didn’t know the question and her brow crunched.
“Now, little one. Or I’m going to choose.”
She flashed two fingers and he let a small grin spread his mouth, just to mess with her. This was going to be fun.
* * *