into place.
They must have talked, the two boys. Maybe before I was in the shower. Maybe after my night together with Garrett. They must have discussed the things I liked, the things I’d expressed in my drunken confession. Because the evening was completely choreographed. Nate led me forward, not saying a word, and I found myself pushed against Garrett, who quickly took over, upending me over his lap and lifting up the back of the robe. I was nude beneath, and I felt grateful for the blindfold. I didn’t have to watch them watching me. I wondered what they thought of the fading bruises on my skin, wondered what they thought of my tattoos.
Garrett set the paddle against my ass, and I couldguess what it would feel like when he landed the first blow. This was a leather paddle, rectangular, much larger than the one Connor had used on me. “Tell Nate what you told me,” he said, his voice darker than I’d heard it so far. Menacing. How strange. I’d expected Nate to take control.
“What part?” I whispered.
“All of it.”
I realized that I was going to be punished for the first time in front of an audience. Garrett was going to spank the hell out of me, and Nate was going to watch.
“Now,” Garrett insisted.
The two shots of tequila gave me a tiny sliver of confidence. But speaking was torture. “I can’t—” I murmured. And before the words were fully out of my mouth, Garrett had landed the first volley of blows. The pain was fierce, but I held myself still.
“Don’t press me,” Garrett warned. “I promise that you’ll lose.”
Ah, but he was wrong. Losing would make me win.
“It’s all I want,” I said softly, speaking toward the carpet.
“What is?” Nate asked. He was close, bent on his knees in front of me. He kissed my lips, stroked my hair. “What do you want, Samantha?”
I took stock of my situation: blindfolded, in a room with two men, both who seemed more than willing to make my fantasies come true. What was stopping me from speaking? That same old fear of rejection? Fuck you, Byron. I didn’t want to be muzzled by that anymore.
“I want—” I started, then hesitated, and Garrett began smacking my ass again, each slap of the paddle on my skin warning me. “I want this—”
That vagueness won me a series of eye-watering blows.I wasn’t counting how many; I was simply absorbing. Nate held my hands, he licked the tears from my cheeks as they slowly spilled under the blindfold.
“I want to take it,” I said, choking over the tears.
“Take?” Nate prompted.
Why did I have to say it? Didn’t they see? Couldn’t they tell? Wasn’t it clear from my body language, from the fact that I had allowed myself willingly to be blindfolded, to be led to a man holding a paddle? I hadn’t run away. I hadn’t said that they were crazy, that I never would agree to something like that. I had been meek. I had been humble. I had been willing.
Garrett said, “Tie her to the bed, Nathan. Face down.”
Oh, fuck.
They stripped the robe off me first. The blindfold was black velvet, and I could see nothing. But it was as if I could feel the candlelight on me, casting twisted golden shadows over my pale skin.
Nate did as Garrett said, lifting me into his arms and carrying me to his mattress. He had me bound in seconds, and I felt relief flood through me. It didn’t matter what I said now. I was going to get what I wanted.
“Tell us, Samantha,” Garrett said, his voice close to my ear. “What do you want to take?”
I shut my eyes tight. Describing my desires never got any easier. “You have to make it hurt,” I managed. “It has to hurt. I want to show you that I can take it. The pain—” I was begging now, but I’d reached a point where I could talk more freely. “Please—” I lifted my voice to both of them. “I don’t know why. Just please—”
That was as clear as I could be. The boys didn’t need any further instruction.
I’d known Nate had the rigged mattress,
They must have talked, the two boys. Maybe before I was in the shower. Maybe after my night together with Garrett. They must have discussed the things I liked, the things I’d expressed in my drunken confession. Because the evening was completely choreographed. Nate led me forward, not saying a word, and I found myself pushed against Garrett, who quickly took over, upending me over his lap and lifting up the back of the robe. I was nude beneath, and I felt grateful for the blindfold. I didn’t have to watch them watching me. I wondered what they thought of the fading bruises on my skin, wondered what they thought of my tattoos.
Garrett set the paddle against my ass, and I couldguess what it would feel like when he landed the first blow. This was a leather paddle, rectangular, much larger than the one Connor had used on me. “Tell Nate what you told me,” he said, his voice darker than I’d heard it so far. Menacing. How strange. I’d expected Nate to take control.
“What part?” I whispered.
“All of it.”
I realized that I was going to be punished for the first time in front of an audience. Garrett was going to spank the hell out of me, and Nate was going to watch.
“Now,” Garrett insisted.
The two shots of tequila gave me a tiny sliver of confidence. But speaking was torture. “I can’t—” I murmured. And before the words were fully out of my mouth, Garrett had landed the first volley of blows. The pain was fierce, but I held myself still.
“Don’t press me,” Garrett warned. “I promise that you’ll lose.”
Ah, but he was wrong. Losing would make me win.
“It’s all I want,” I said softly, speaking toward the carpet.
“What is?” Nate asked. He was close, bent on his knees in front of me. He kissed my lips, stroked my hair. “What do you want, Samantha?”
I took stock of my situation: blindfolded, in a room with two men, both who seemed more than willing to make my fantasies come true. What was stopping me from speaking? That same old fear of rejection? Fuck you, Byron. I didn’t want to be muzzled by that anymore.
“I want—” I started, then hesitated, and Garrett began smacking my ass again, each slap of the paddle on my skin warning me. “I want this—”
That vagueness won me a series of eye-watering blows.I wasn’t counting how many; I was simply absorbing. Nate held my hands, he licked the tears from my cheeks as they slowly spilled under the blindfold.
“I want to take it,” I said, choking over the tears.
“Take?” Nate prompted.
Why did I have to say it? Didn’t they see? Couldn’t they tell? Wasn’t it clear from my body language, from the fact that I had allowed myself willingly to be blindfolded, to be led to a man holding a paddle? I hadn’t run away. I hadn’t said that they were crazy, that I never would agree to something like that. I had been meek. I had been humble. I had been willing.
Garrett said, “Tie her to the bed, Nathan. Face down.”
Oh, fuck.
They stripped the robe off me first. The blindfold was black velvet, and I could see nothing. But it was as if I could feel the candlelight on me, casting twisted golden shadows over my pale skin.
Nate did as Garrett said, lifting me into his arms and carrying me to his mattress. He had me bound in seconds, and I felt relief flood through me. It didn’t matter what I said now. I was going to get what I wanted.
“Tell us, Samantha,” Garrett said, his voice close to my ear. “What do you want to take?”
I shut my eyes tight. Describing my desires never got any easier. “You have to make it hurt,” I managed. “It has to hurt. I want to show you that I can take it. The pain—” I was begging now, but I’d reached a point where I could talk more freely. “Please—” I lifted my voice to both of them. “I don’t know why. Just please—”
That was as clear as I could be. The boys didn’t need any further instruction.
I’d known Nate had the rigged mattress,
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