‘OK, OK, love,’ he said. ‘Do you want me to stop completely or do you just need a break?’
I thought about this. If I wanted to, I could wriggle out of the rest of the punishment. It was a tempting prospect, but I knew that, if I succumbed to the temptation, I’d feel weirdly disappointed. I didn’t want Dan to let me off, just as I got indignant on his behalf when crooks he’d arrested got away scot-free or with a light sentence. Having been fairly tried and convicted, I didn’t want to dodge any of my punishment. And I didn’t want to feel that I could manipulate Dan any time I wanted either. I wanted to know that I was going to get what he thought I deserved. I needed him to have that strength and focus. He thought I should get twenty with the strap, so I wanted twenty with the strap. The wet-bottom thing was a bit much, though, all the same.
But I needed to show him that I had faith in him.
So I lifted my head, stuck my bum back out and said, ‘No, I’m OK. Just needed to catch my breath.’
‘You’re quite something, you know?’ he said softly, then he picked the strap back up. ‘Sure?’
I nodded.
‘Right. Seven more, and they’re going to be hard.’
Fine. As long as you don’t put any more of that water on me.
The first stroke was a blast of shocking pain and I cursed myself for not getting out when I had the chance. Jeez, what an idiot. But I was determined to be strong and, although I yelled out, I kept myself in position.
I keened through the next few until, with only three left to go, he decided to lower my damp knickers and finish off on my damp bare bottom.
This added an extra heat and a sharp edge. It was almost unbearable. Almost. But I bore it.
After the twentieth and final stroke, I let down my guard and began to cry. My bottom hurt like mad but I felt absurdly happy and light – a kind of unburdening, I suppose.
Dan sat beside me and rubbed my shoulders and whispered soothing words.
‘I love you, Pip,’ he said. ‘Don’t ever think I don’t love you.’
‘I know,’ I wept. ‘That’s why I’m crying. Because you love me enough to do this. It’s happy tears.’
He lay down and pulled me on to him – it was pretty difficult with my hands cuffed, and it took a few minutes to get into a comfortable position, but eventually I lay with my cheek on his shoulder, held in his arms.
‘I just want to kiss and make up now,’ he said. ‘Make it all better for you. Run you a bath and rub some lotion into your bum. But I promised myself I wouldn’t do that yet.’
‘No? Why not? What are you going to do instead?’
‘I’m going to pay you back for that Mary Poppins comment.’
I craned my neck to catch his eye.
‘That was to pay you back for the Twinkletoes comment.’
‘Don’t care. I’m going to get my revenge and there’s nothing you can do about it because you’re wearing handcuffs.’
‘That’s not fair!’
‘Awww.’ He ruffled my hair. ‘I know. But I am the law.’
He slid out from underneath me, leaving me prone on the duvet, jerking about like a wet fish in my efforts to raise myself up.
‘Dan, I can’t take any more of that strap,’ I warned him.
‘Who said anything about spanking?’
I tried to look at him, but my neck threatened to crick so I buried my face back in the plump, soft cotton.
‘You can get back over those pillows, though. Here, let me give you a hand. Since you don’t have the use of yours.’
He helpfully shoved the three pillows back under my stomach, arching me over with my bum uppermost again.