Whatever You Need, My Girl

He knew what she needed even before she asked for it, but he wanted, no needed, to see the beseeching supplication in her eyes as she struggled to form the words from her trembling lips.

He pulled her close, lifted her chin with one finger, looked straight into her watery blues and asked: "tell me what it is you want little one."

She hesitated momentarily, allowing his words to sink into her soul, "I need a spanking and cuddles," she whispered.

He heard her words; he heard what she thought she needed, but he knew she needed more. After the week she'd had, she needed her head clear of everything, everything but him.

He stroked her cheek with his finger, and with an indulgent smile said, "that is not how we ask is it?"

A faint blush formed on her cheek as she smiled coyly and with a fluttering of her eyelashes, in a soft voice asked "Sir, would you please spank me and then hold me for a while."

He noticed the shimmer in her eyes, where a lone tear was beginning to form. But he knew she would not cry, not yet. He pulled her close to his chest, kissed the top of her head and murmured into her hair "I'll give you whatever you need, my girl."

He held her close for a moment longer before lowering his mouth to her ear and whispered his instructions. She raised her head to look up at him, and with a bashful bite on her lip, nodded in compliance. Her unspoken submission, an unvocalised "yes, Sir."

He made his way over the couch as he waited for her to return. As soon as she entered the room, he sat up straight and watched with a warm fondness and she gracefully knelt before him, holding the items he had requested in her open palms.

He started with the collar. Taking the leather band from her outstretched hand, he reached behind her, gently swiped her hair away from her neck and wrapped her in his ownership. As the metal clasp clicked locked, a contented sigh escaped unbidden from her lips. Taking the other two items from her offering palms, he beckoned her to stand up. She rose and stood before him in dignified submission, awaiting his invitation to bend over his knee.

He noticed her anticipation, the flush in her cheeks increasing, her chest rising and falling as she breathed deeply. He knew she was waiting, but he knew she needed this, the ritual where there was no word in the world that mattered, save for his.

He tapped his knee, beckoning her to take her position. She walked over a step to his side and then draped herself across his lap. With her body in the desired pose, he instructed her to fold her arms behind her back as he cuffed her hands together with the leather cuffs he had requested earlier. Without her hands to support her, he could feel her sinking into him, letting all her weight, including the invisible one she was carrying on her shoulders, meld into him. Her face buried deep into the couch cushion as she awaited the first strike.

She was almost surprised when it first came, and she gasped out loud. His hand came down on her ass over and over again, but aside from a muffled moan every so often she barely whimpered. He hit her harder without let up, infusing her bottom with deep shades of crimson, but still, he felt her, she was still too present. He needed her to let go; she needed him to make her let go.

It was time for the paddle, the third item he had asked her to bring. All he had asked for was a paddle; he had allowed her to choose the one she wanted. She had opted for the meanest heaviest leather implement in his collection, and he smiled with secret pride. She usually winced at the mere thought of this weapon, but his girl knew what she needed, and he was more than willing to oblige.

He gently stroked her burning bottom, the spanking had been hard, but it hadn't been enough.

He raised the paddle into the air and with a swift motion brought it down hard on her reddened skin.

"OUCH!!" she yelped.

Finally, a reaction. She needed to feel, to let the pain engulf everything else. He hit her again and again; each scream, each yelp, each moan causing him an uncomfortable pleasure.

"Whatever you need, my girl."

And then as if by magic he felt it, he could almost see the tension roll off her body as she sunk deeper into him, almost weightless, and from behind the cushion, he heard her sobs. He didn't let up; he brought the paddle down on her harder and harder, feeling her body shaking as the wracking sobs tore through her, right into his soul. She needed this. He needed her to let go, for her, for him.

He paddled, she wailed; he spanked, she cried; he hit, she let it all out, and the more he hit her, the lighter she became until there was no sound, no weight, just her abject surrender to his benevolent ministrations.

He stopped, and she lay still across his body.

He scooped her up and folded her in his arms. There was no sound other than her ragged shallow breaths.

With one finger, he wiped away a lone stray tear from his eyes.

"Whatever you need, my girl."