“I do know, but your approval helps.”

“I also noticed you picked a paddle so big that even deVries couldn’t do any damage.”

Very true. Xavier gave him a half smile. The large size of the paddle would spread the impact over a wider area. She’d hurt after this, but the pain would be superficial.

Time dragged.

He accepted several more green bands from Dominants in closed relationships and from submissives. The Doms usually administered a blow just over the edge of painful. Exactly what he considered appropriate.

Unless they were switches, submissives rarely struck another person, and their blows varied widely. Most gave Abby a light tap, their sympathy obvious. Seeing her in tears had dispelled their anger, even before they picked up the paddle. However, a few appeared openly vindictive and hit much harder.

“Your turn, ladies.” Simon said, pushing his wife and Lindsey toward Xavier.

Xavier glanced at Abby. Silently suffering—silently breaking his heart. Hands in fists, the little fluff had her eyes closed. At least she wouldn’t know her friends were here.

Lindsey administered a tap that barely touched Abby’s skin, more of a caress than a blow. Openly sobbing, she threw the paddle at Simon and ran.

Simon picked up the paddle and held it out to Rona.

She pushed it back, then yanked the green band off her wrist. “Abby’s already crying, you bastards. What more do you want—blood?” After throwing the band on the floor, Rona gave Xavier a deadly look and walked away.

Yes, he’d always liked Simon’s wife.

OW, OW, OW. The first few hits hadn’t been bad, but the pain had built up until now even the mild swats hurt. Her whole bottom burned. She’d tried to loosen her muscles at first, but that battle was lost. Tears leaked from her closed eyes and pooled on the leather under her cheek.

Then she received a blow so hard it rocked the sawhorse. A fireball of pain burst through her, and she screamed. It hurt. Hurt. She started crying and couldn’t stop.

“Greta, stay right there.” Xavier’s voice sounded like ice.

A second later he bent down beside Abby. His hand stroked her forearm. “She was out of line. She’ll learn manners, but that doesn’t help you now.”

His sympathy and anger did, though. It really did. She pulled in a shuddering breath.

With a paper towel he wiped her eyes and held it to her nose. “Blow, pet.”

Too miserable to resist the command, she complied…and felt better. When she squinted at the mirror, the reflection showed the blurry figure of Greta, a pretty, large-boned woman in a chain dress. The submissive had made nasty remarks about Xavier spending so much time with Abby.

With one hand on Abby’s shoulder, Xavier straightened and leaned on his cane. Greta stared at the floor as he said icily, “This is punishment, not an exercise in sadism.”

“I’m sorry, my liege. I had no idea it was too hard.”

Sure, you didn’t. If Abby could have stood…

“I see. Well, we all have to learn sometime. Master deVries, would you mind giving Greta five swats at the appropriate level for punishing an unknown submissive. Finish with five at the same strength Greta used on Abby. I’m sure, next time, she’ll know the difference.”

“My pleasure,” deVries said smoothly.

“B-b-but…” Greta stuttered in shock and tried to retreat.

Had she never been taken to task for her behavior? Then again, her unpleasant personality might be why she didn’t have a Master.

Smiling slightly, deVries grabbed Greta’s long hair and wrapped it around his fist before dragging her toward the prayer benches in the center of the room.

“Next up, please,” Xavier said.

Abby closed her eyes again. A minute passed. The next person administered a tentative tap as if terrified she’d be a candidate for a deVries lesson. The following few swats hurt—oh, they definitely hurt—but none came close to Greta’s.

Then nothing happened. As minutes passed Abby breathed slowly, trying to deal with the burning of her skin.

“You’re done, pet.”

She jumped. Done? Relief rushed through her.

As Xavier moved closer, she pulled at the restraints. “Let me out.” Now, now, now.

“Shhh.” He ran a hand down her back in a soothing stroke. “I’m going to rub some cream on your very red ass. You’ll still have bruising, but this will help.”

“I want free.”

“No.” His smile flickered. “This will hurt, Abby. And I have enough scrapes from cliff diving. I don’t need more dealt out by a pretty little submissive.”

I can’t take it.

As he stroked the cool ointment over her tender skin, stinging flared from even his light touch. She yanked on the restraints, harder and harder.

“Abby, if you don’t stop, I’ll swat you myself.”

She froze.

“Good girl. You were punished, pet, and this is what happens afterward.” He continued, not missing a spot.

Every inch of her bottom throbbed and burned.

“Done.” He tossed the tube into his bag. After undoing her straps, he slid her glasses back on, then lifted her to her feet and looked her over.

She bet she just looked wonderful—dressed in wrist cuffs and glasses, red-eyed and covered in sweat. After a moment of dizziness, she found her balance.

When he wrapped a blanket around her, she realized her damp skin was chilling.

“With your permission, I’ll clean up, my liege.” Dixon stood a few feet away with paper towels and a spray bottle. His face was white. “So you can… Uh, I left water beside the couch.” When Abby tried to smile at him, his eyes filled with tears.

“That was thoughtful, Dixon. Thank you.” After claiming his cane, Xavier put an arm around her waist and guided her to a couch. Cane or not, he was still steadier than she was.

Keeping her wrist in his hand, he sat down and reclined against the arm with his injured leg beside the back cushions. He tugged her down onto his lap.

As his jeans scraped her bottom, pain flared, and she moaned. She hurt—hurt worse than she ever remembered. Why was she here? These people didn’t like her. They never would.

Xavier gathered her close, sliding farther down on the couch so she sprawled on top of him with no weight on her butt.

She struggled to get up.

With a firm hand he tucked her head against his shoulder. “Settle a bit, little fluff. You had a hard time.”

Her eyes blurred with tears as her body obeyed him. She closed her hand on the material of his shirt, hanging on tightly. People had hit her. Even the ones she’d thought were friends. Hurting her on purpose. She couldn’t keep the question back. “Why were they so mean?”

He laid his hand on her neck and curved his long fingers over her nape. His thumb stroked her cheek. “Abby…”

A sob ripped up through her tight throat, and she tried to choke it down. More came, and she buried her head against him and cried. She was guilty, and they’d hit her and she’d deserved it. Only she thought some were her friends. They’d humiliated her. And it hurt. It hurt.

“That’s right,” he murmured, his arm tightening. “Let it out now. I’m proud of you, Abby.”

By the time she finished, his shirt was soaked with her tears, and her eyes were even puffier than before. Her throat was raw, yet she felt…different. Cleaner. Lighter. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He half laughed. “You’re very welcome.” He kissed the top of her head. “Bottling everything up isn’t good, and you do it more than most, pet.” As he wiped the tears from her face, she was grateful he’d instructed her not to wear makeup.

“I guess.”

“You asked a question.” He was silent a second. “Most lifestylers believe a suitable punishment and true repentance can clear damage done to a relationship so the wound doesn’t fester. They’re the ones who swatted you hard enough to sting, but not more. A few of the submissives…” The sound under her ear was almost a growl. “I think some might be envious of the attention you get.”

“From you,” she whispered.

“Yes.” He moved his hand and stroked up and down her bare back. “I’m afraid so, and I regret that you suffered more because of it.”

Like from nasty Greta. Then again, that sub wouldn’t be comfortable sitting any sooner than Abby. DeVries wasn’t known for gentleness. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He kissed her lightly before continuing, “Finally, those who know you well usually gave you swats so light as to be laughable. I doubt you even felt Lindsey’s. A few, like Rona, handed over their bands and didn’t take a turn. Simon said Dixon cut his into confetti and left it all over the reception desk.”

She realized her eyes had been closed for much of the punishment. “Really?” An aching knot inside her loosened, allowing a real breath.

“Yes, pet.” He reached around her to open a water and put it in her hands. “Drink that.”

The cool water tasted better than anything she’d ever had in her life. She guzzled half the bottle before taking a breath.

He chuckled and settled himself more comfortably. “Now relax.”

As the world moved on without her, she watched her thoughts float by and listened to the lazy lubb-dupp of his heart. Each breath he took lifted his chest, like a boat rocking on a quiet lake. People conversed nearby, and the rhythm of the dungeon continued with moans, the sounds of whips, floggers, paddles, and a scream or two.

Eventually the world snapped into place as if someone had changed the focus on a camera, sharpening the image. Her fingers tightened on his shirt.