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playing with fire

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He can’t remember what they’re fighting about. In fact, he can barely focus on anything that isn’t Daphne and the growing tension in the air. It’s so easy to get so into the heat of the argument, to say things simply for the sake of escalating the delicious passion flowing between them, that he’s quickly losing track of what he’s saying. That’s why when he yells something and is met with silence instead of her yelling something back, his eyes widen as he scrambles to remember what came out of his mouth last.

“Niles,” Daphne says, her tone so sharp it sends a shiver down his spine.

“Yes?” he asks, trying (and failing) to keep the encouraging goad out of his voice. Normally he cherishes being good for her, but sometimes he needs something else, something dangerous. Luckily for him, she knows exactly how to handle him when he gets like this.

“Are you going to apologize?” She frowns, as if offended, but he knows what she’s really doing is giving him the chance to choose the direction of what comes next. That’s the difference between her and everyone else — she actually cares about him and what he wants. It’s incredible, that he’s found someone who doesn’t take or demand his submission; Daphne treats it with care, like it’s a gift he’s given her, and he knows he’ll always be in safe hands with her.

He scoffs. “Apologize? For what, being right?”

She gives him a stern look that he can only shift in nervous delight at. “So we’re playing with fire tonight, are we?”

“I guess I just have pyromania,” he says with a grin, still a little breathless from the argument.

“Hmm.” She considers him for a moment, then gestures to her lap. “Over my knees, then.”

They’ve done this before, but that doesn’t stop heat from flooding his cheeks. His natural instinct is to obey but he hesitates, not wanting to seem overly eager. “But—”

“Naughty boys get punished, don’t they?” she interrupts, and he sheepishly nods as his knees buckle at how the words naughty and punished sound coming from her lips. “They need a firm hand to remind them of their place when they forget. And if they prove themselves to be cooperative enough, well, they might just get a reward after.”

“A reward?” he asks, his trembling hands struggling to undo his trousers. At last he’s able to lower them and he slides into position across her lap, trying to ignore the anticipatory desire coursing through his veins.

“Maybe... But only if you take your punishment without any fuss.” She runs her hands over his skin, delighting in the goosebumps that form. He’s always so responsive; it never fails to send a thrill through her when she sees how he reacts to her simple touch. “Do you remember your word?”

He nods. “I’ll use it if I have to.”

“Good boy.” She makes a hum of approval, moving one hand to rest on the small of his back and the other to his leg as she takes a moment to appreciate what she has to work with. “Ready?”

He nods again, beginning to squirm restlessly the longer he waits. Her hand slides up to the back of his neck and he stills, taking in a deep breath. She lifts the hand on his leg up into the air, and then brings it down with a loud smack. The sound of the hit is worse than the actual impact but it’s still enough to jerk him forward slightly, a choked sound escaping his throat.

He used to be shy about making noise and he still is a little, but with Daphne he doesn’t have to worry about it — in fact, she encourages him to be as loud as he wants. She likes knowing the effect she has on him.

She goes on until his skin has begun turning a pleasant shade of pink, before she gives a slap that is particularly sharp. Niles cries out an, “Oh!” and she hesitates in case it was too much, but he arches up in search of more. She obliges, continuing with harder hits.

If his reaction hadn’t been enough to convince her of his enjoyment, she soon realizes she can feel the evidence of it against her thigh. Tears prickle in his eyes at the overwhelming pain and he clutches at her leg, holding on for dear life. Before he knows it he’s crying freely, lost in the bliss of how much it hurts.

It’s as if he’s floating, every single thing that isn’t Daphne and her hand blurring away into nothing. Even the pain seems to disappear, leaving him only with how amazing it feels. He wishes the moment could stretch on for eternity.

When he starts to come back to himself, the spanking is over and Daphne is running her hands over his legs and ass. “Learned your lesson?” she asks, gentle now, though it doesn’t seem to be a question she wants an actual answer for; she always knows his limits and when to stop.

“Was I good?” he asks, voice small in a way that with anyone else he might’ve been self conscious about.

“You were,” she’s quick to reassure him. “You were such a good boy. I think you deserve your reward, what do you think?”

He nods and she rests her hand where he’s sore, pressing down to guide his hips into a slow grind. He whimpers at the combination of the pleasure and the sparks of pain from the pressure on his newly bruised skin, unable to decide whether he wants to push back into her touch or forward where he can get more friction.

“Daphne,” he gasps, shutting his eyes tight. “Please—”

“Shh. It’s okay, I’ll give you what you need.” It doesn’t take much longer after that, especially not with him already so worked up. She guides him through it and soon enough, he tenses as his release washes over him. “That’s it, that’s a good boy. I’ve got you.”

He collapses bonelessly against her, struggling to catch his breath. She helps him flip over so she can see him, and she moves to wipe away his tears.

“Thank you,” he says, a soft dopey smile on his face. He’s never doubted his feelings for her but right now, he’s never been more sure of how much he loves her.