Read Story: SEASON 2 EPISODE 120

Before I could read Natalie’s expression, Helen brought the paddle down again, squarely across both cheeks. The dark wood bit into flesh with a sharp, echoing crack.

“Fuck!” Bobbi screamed. “I didn’t do anything that bad!”

Natalie didn’t flinch this time. She leaned in slightly, disturbed—but obviously turned on.

I slid my hand a little deeper between her legs just to see what she’d do. To my surprise and delight, her thighs parted ever so slightly.

An invitation.

I let my fingers journey another inch. The heat was undeniable—thick, humid, slick. It was like stepping into a sauna.

Her legs twitched again, spreading further. She wasn’t just allowing me. She was welcoming me.

“Oh, kitten…” Helen murmured. “You just fucked up.”

“Marcus…” Bobbi pleaded, her voice raw.

I dragged my gaze off Natalie to glance at my little pet. “She’s being punished in front of Natalie. That’s enough punishment on its own. Keep it to five.”

Helen’s devious smile didn’t waver, but she nodded respectfully. “As you wish.”

Lifting the paddle again, she said, “Two more, kitten.”

The next strike came down lower, catching the tops of Bobbi’s thighs. She let out a long grunt that dissolved into breathless sobs. Her face buried into her arm, as if trying to disappear without disobeying her mistress.

Natalie flinched—and her thighs parted further. My fingers grazed higher, pinky brushing against the yellow fabric of her swimsuit.

The contact made her flinch again. She turned her head and met my gaze. I didn’t need her look to confirm what my fingers had already discovered—she was soaked.

My smallest finger slid across the damp fabric between her legs. I felt the contours of her sex and paused halfway through to press into them—slowly, deliberately.

Natalie whimpered. A pitiful, barely-there sound. But it was unmistakable.

Desire. Need.

I couldn’t look away from her.

She couldn’t look away from me.

There was fear in her eyes—uncertainty. Maybe she was wondering if she would be next on that bench.

But the arousal on her face said it wouldn’t be entirely unwelcome.

“Natalie?”

We both turned.

Helen stood beside us now, holding the paddle by its broad end, the handle pointed toward us.

“Would you like to give the final stroke?”

“What?” Natalie asked, startled.

“What?” I echoed.

“What?” Bobbi cried, her voice pitiful through her sobs.

Helen shot the submissive a quick glare, then turned back to Natalie.

“I’d say if anyone deserves to smack that ass as much as Marcus, it’s you.”

Natalie stared at the paddle, then looked at me, silently asking for permission. I gave a nod.

She reached out and took the handle with a kind of reverence, like Arthur drawing the sword from the stone. Gingerly, she pulled it free from Helen’s grasp and held it up like a relic, her eyes trailing over the dark wood grain.

My gaze was locked on the initials carved into its center. Up until now, that detail had felt like a playful indulgence for Helen. But now, with Natalie holding it, it suddenly felt exposed… gratuitous. The whole thing had always flirted with absurdity—but ordering a custom paddle that stamped my initials into someone’s ass? That was a whole other level.

Internally, I winced.

Natalie didn’t seem to mind. She slid to the edge of her seat, then rose, and any embarrassment I felt evaporated the moment I got a look at her body in motion. That swimsuit clung to every curve, and God, she had curves for days—rivaling Jessica’s or Camille’s, but with a leaner tone and frame. As she stepped slowly toward Bobbi, her hips swayed like Jessica Rabbit—smooth, hypnotic, every step rippling with tension.

I wasn’t the only one watching. Helen’s gaze was glued to that perfect ass, and for a moment, I worried that if Natalie joined this life but wasn’t into women, I might have a riot on my hands. Helen and Erin had both made their hunger pretty clear.

Helen followed close behind her, and I rose from the couch to join them.

Bobbi hadn’t said a word since her startled outburst, but it was obvious from her face that she hated the sight of Natalie holding that paddle. She looked like she wanted to crawl through the floor. I made a mental note to ask her—really ask—why she hated Natalie so much. Bobbi had never been easy, but something about Natalie always pushed her to the edge.

Natalie paused, the paddle hanging loosely by her side as she stared at her fallen enemy. She simply watched. After several silent moments passed, Bobbi looked up at her—the heat in her eyes daring her to strike.

Helen stepped forward until she stood just behind Natalie. Reaching down, her hand gently covered the other woman’s. She was roughly Natalie’s height, so as she pressed in close, she brought her lips to Natalie’s ear and gave it the softest kiss—more a brush of lips against skin than an actual kiss.

"You want to hold it up," Helen said softly.

Together, they raised the paddle, positioning it over Bobbi’s reddened rear. “Here.”

Natalie’s breath came shallowly. Her head turned, just enough to meet Helen’s gaze from the corner of her eye. Her lips parted. She looked torn—caught between the hunger to make Bobbi pay for a year of torment and the uncertainty that she could actually go through with it.

"Go on," Helen murmured, her hand trailing softly down Natalie’s wrist and forearm, fingernails featherlight. "Whenever you’re ready."

Natalie’s gaze flicked to me. I gave her a small, encouraging smile, hoping it didn’t read like pressure. I wanted her to do this only if she wanted to.

She looked down at Bobbi again, meeting her hateful stare.

“I… I don’t think I can,” Natalie whispered.

Her arm dropped. She turned to face Helen, and their bodies brushed—breasts grazing each other in the tight space.

Natalie chewed her cheek, glancing between us. “Sorry. I, um…”

She placed the paddle back into Helen’s hands. “Maybe I should go.”

She gave me a sheepish look, then circled Helen, murmuring one more quiet “Sorry,” as she made for the door.

I heard the lock click, and as the door opened, Helen looked at me.

“Go,” she said. “Take care of her.” Her gaze dropped to Bobbi. “I’ll see to this.”

I followed Natalie out the door and found her standing just outside, leaning against the wall, both palms pressed flat against it, her fingers splayed. Her head was tipped back, eyes closed, breath steady but strained like she was trying to get control.

“Hey,” I said gently, closing the door behind me.

She opened her eyes and gave me a crooked smile. “Hey.”

“I should’ve checked with you before letting that happen,” I said. “Sorry.”

Natalie shook her head. “She asked. I wanted to.”

“Why’d you stop?”

She looked at me, uneasy. “I’ve never done anything like that. Even if it was Bobbi. It was all just a little overwhelming.”

“I get it,” I said, stepping closer.

“Was it hard for you? The first time, I mean.”

I squirmed a little. My first time had been with Bobbi. My first time with bondage. My first time with consent. It had all happened at once.

But I’d promised Natalie honesty.

“No,” I said. “It was with Bobbi. It was intense. Not planned and… well, it was Bobbi, so at the time, it felt really easy.”

“I know,” Natalie said. “I wanted to punch that bitch more times than I can count—but only in my head. That…”

She gestured toward the dungeon door. “That’s different.”

I stepped in close. “Hey.” She looked up at me with those big brown eyes. “I didn’t bring you in there to make you do anything. I just wanted to let you in. I’m honestly shocked you didn’t run screaming.”

“Just because I didn’t spank her,” Natalie said, her voice low, “doesn’t mean I wasn’t turned on.”

She leaned back against the wall, eyes closing again. “Fuck,” she whispered.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I’m so fucking horny,” she said softly.

I leaned in, resting my forearm against the wall beside her head, my other hand drifting down to her hip.

She didn’t move away. No protest. No hesitation.

My fingers traced her thigh, gliding up until they met the fabric between her legs.

She parted them instinctively.

“Like this?” I asked, grazing the wet fabric of her swimsuit.

Natalie nodded.

I pressed my middle and ring fingers into the cloth, nestling between her folds, dragging up across where her clit should be. A breathy moan escaped her lips.

I kissed her, and she melted into it, arms wrapping around my neck.

My hand found its way beneath her suit, my fingers finally making contact.

She was drenched.

They slid in easily, sinking into wet heat to the second knuckle.

She gasped into my mouth and clung to me tightly.

I curled my fingers, brushing against that sweet, spongy spot that drove women wild. Natalie whimpered, hips rolling into my palm.

She broke the kiss to whisper, “More.”

I gave her more.

I alternated—fingers inside her, circling her clit, pinching, grinding. She panted into my mouth, moaning into every stroke.

When her walls suddenly clenched around my fingers, I buried them deep. Her body froze, her mouth went slack against mine, and she let out a keening whimper.

I kissed her through it.

I made Natalie Bander come.

Natalie.

My Natalie.

The one I’d wanted for over a year.

She hadn’t run when I showed her some of the darkest parts of my life.

I didn’t know what that meant yet, but I knew one thing—I was going to have her.

I kept kissing her until her trembling stopped, until her hips stopped rolling against my palm.

When I finally pulled back, our faces just inches apart, she looked up at me, dazed, dreamy.

“Wow,” she whispered.

I pressed my forehead to hers, gave her one more kiss, and echoed back, “Yeah.”

We simply stood there, letting the silence and afterglow settle over us. The occasional deep thrum of bass from outside vibrated through us.

“Fuck,” Natalie breathed. “Even after that… I want you.”

My heart soared, and my cock throbbed. “I want you, too.”

I’d kick every damn person out of my apartment immediately if she asked.

“Can I see you tomorrow?”

I wasn’t as disappointed with the idea of ‘tomorrow’ as I thought I’d be. The simple notion that Natalie wanted to finally consummate this was enough to keep me going. What was another twenty-four hours when I had waited a whole year?

“You couldn’t keep me away,” I said softly, stroking her cheek.

She smiled shyly.

I returned it, knowing that the clock was ticking until I could finally have her.

How she would fit into the shape of my life was a question that could be answered after.

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To Be Continued