"Come in."
She closed the door behind her but stood there, waiting for his instructions, still unsure how to act. Bend over the desk? Lift her skirt? Remove it?
"Have a seat, Maggie." When she perched on the edge of the chair, he asked, "You wanted to see me?"
Of course he wasn't going to make this easy. Then again, he hadn't been privy to her thoughts and had no idea what she was going to say. "I came to ask if you'll forgive my behaviour."
He braced his elbows on the arms of his chair and linked his fingers together, appearing at ease.
"I've been thinking about our last conversation … " She was stumbling around and she hated it. After brushing her hair back from her face, she met his gaze. "What I mean is, damn it, Mr Tomlinson, I want to be with you. I accept your punishment and hope I can earn your forgiveness."
"You're certain you know what you're offering?"
"To get my butt blistered," she said wryly. "Mr Tomlinson."
"And after that?"
"To be in a relationship with you"-she looked down, then back up-"as your submissive."
He nodded, not betraying his inner thoughts. Damn, he was not the man she'd spent a weekend with. At his house, although he'd set the rules, he'd been gentler, encouraging, even teasing. "To be clear, my punishment is meant to reinforce the behaviour I expect from you. It's not because I am angry, it's because you were willingly and wilfully disobedient."
"Yes, Mr Tomlinson."
"I know we discussed the fact that I would use separation as a way to punish you, but that doesn't seem appropriate atonement in this case."
"I've already been separated, and it hurt," she admitted.
"Hurt us both," he said.
"I agree, Sir, that I still need to make amends." Her stomach plummeted with her words.
"I would normally administer ten stripes, but for two reasons, I decided on five. First of all, you've never been punished by me. And secondly, you were frank when I asked if you'd had any intention of telling me about the Hoskins deal."
"Thank you, Sir."
"I have no expectations that you will properly comport yourself. You can take as long as you want between stripes, and I will wait for you to get back into position before administering the next one. Your safe word stops it, and you go home alone. You can use ‘eclipse' as many times as you need to. I have all night."
The temperature in the room was frigid, chilled by the coldness in his eyes. She ached to have him look at her with tenderness again. "I understand, Mr Tomlinson."
He stood and shrugged out of his suit jacket. She watched, fascinated, as he draped it over the back of his chair. He unfastened his cufflinks and dropped them. A sense of foreboding descended over her as they clinked together then thudded onto the gleaming desktop. She didn't blink as he rolled back his sleeves, exposing his forearms.
"I have a cane in my coat closet. Please fetch it."
His tone, his actions, his command, made the world slow down. He'd inexorably placed her in a submissive frame of mind where nothing existed but the two of them, and pleasing him. At its base, it was that simple. And Mr Tomlinson didn't demand more than he first offered.
Her knees wobbled as she rose to get the long, thin rattan.
He extended his hand and she cast her gaze at the floor as she offered it to him.
"Clear off my desk," he instructed. "You can put the items on the credenza, and close the blinds while you're there."
She did as he instructed, moving aside the stress balls she was tempted to squeeze, then turned to see him test the cane in the air. Its sound rent the air and chilled her. No way could she endure five cuts from that horrible thing.
"Plenty of subs have managed through history," he told her as if reading her mind. He placed the cane on the desk then closed and locked his office door.
"Strip."
The order surprised her. She'd expected to lift, even remove, her skirt, but hadn't anticipated he'd want her naked.
Her hands trembled as she removed her clothing, and she half-expected he'd help her undress. Instead, he watched her with a predatory gleam.
She left her clothing in a pile on the credenza while he moved aside the visitor chairs.
"On the desk," he told her.
Being bent over it would enable her to take it easier, and no doubt he'd reached the same conclusion.
He didn't offer her a hand, making it clear it was her choice at every point.
Once she was in position, vulnerable, she trembled. His tone of voice was so very distant, and she felt lost and alone.
"Ask me to punish you."
She looked back at him. The starkness on his face stunned her. His eyebrows were set in a narrow, resolved line. His chin jutted-there appeared to be no joy in this for him. And that pleased her. When he'd beaten her before, he'd appeared determined, but it had been softened by his intent to please and satisfy her.
Maggie took comfort from his features. It was as if they were in this together. Neither of them wanted this, but they both understood it was necessary. "I promise to be more honest with you in future, Sir. Please, Master David, punish me."
Their gazes met.
"Christ, Maggie. Do you know what you said?"
"I acknowledged you as my Master, Mr Tomlinson."
"I'm honoured," he told her. "Thank you for that. But it won't make this easier on you."
"I suspected as much, Master." She grabbed hold of the far end of the desk. But that didn't help. The first stripe landed on her buttocks, ricocheting through her body, making her scream and lose her grip. Fuck. She'd never felt anything like that before. Tears filled her eyes.
She had no idea how long it took her to get back in position, but there was no doubt of the effectiveness of his cane.
Master Tomlinson struck her again, and agony tore her from the inside out.
She fought and struggled to right herself, telling herself over and over that she was almost halfway through.
He didn't speak to her as he placed the third below her buttocks.
She fell forward, sobbing. She curled up into herself, knowing this was the first time she'd cried. He'd told her he'd have her in tears, and Master Damien had warned her as well. They'd all assumed it would be because of the beating. But it wasn't. She was shattered by the emotional wedge that had been between them, devastated by his distance even now. She'd never liked to be pampered and cuddled, and now she needed it, needed him.
He picked her up from the desk, carried her to a chair and held her while she sobbed. She felt as if she'd kept herself in a shell her whole life, refusing to experience everything it had to offer. And if she wanted to be with David, he wouldn't allow her that luxury.
David stroked her hair and soothed her.
She appreciated the fact he cared about her enough to demand she meet him where he was, holding nothing back. She settled against him. This was the first time he'd touched her since he'd confronted her about her transgression. She never wanted to go this long without his tenderness again.
Minutes dragged and shadows lengthened before she pulled back and said, "Can we get it over with?"
"You can continue another day."
"Please, no." He'd never let her shirk her duties, and having the remainder of the punishment looming in front of her would consume her thoughts. "I'm ready."
"You're certain?"
She didn't want to leave the comfort of his chest, the protection of his arms. "Yes, Master."
Maggie made her way to the desk. Its surface was marred by her tears and sweat. She feared it would be worse when they were finished.
Now that he'd done his worst, broken her down, and shown her what to expect, she could manage the rest.
This one caught her thighs and she sobbed, but didn't scream, surrendering to the agony instead of fighting it. When they'd talked about a punishment spanking, she'd told him it would be difficult for her because her Dom would be distant and remote. That wasn't the case. She knew this deepened what they shared. The way he'd cradled her had nurtured her. This lesson, she'd never forget, even though it wasn't the one he'd intended to deliver.
More than anything, she wanted things to be the way they had been at his house.
This was a means to make that happen. In that regard, she looked forward to having it over.
"Last one," he told her when she offered herself to him.
He seared her, and before she'd absorbed the impact, he was there, sitting on the desk, gathering her close. "Maggie mine."
She'd wondered if she'd hear those words again.
He kissed her forehead and swiped away her tears. "We'll go to your place," he said. "I'll drive you in your car. Mine should be safe enough in the parking garage."