My Russian Master (Service & Submission Book 3) by Megan Michaels Page A

would take me to the doctor the next day, because if I was shaving down there, then it meant I was having sex.”
    “God. I am man and that embarrasses me . Very uncomfortable — for both of you.”
    Caroline shook her head, rolling her eyes. “You have no idea. I wanted the floor to swallow me up.” Taking a deep breath, she started again. “He then lectured me on the dangers of driving and drinking, told me how scared they were, what life would be like without me, and probably a hundred other things that I couldn’t even hear because I was dying of embarrassment.”
    “So the humiliation of being naked — was it bad, or worse, than spanking itself?”
    She looked up at the ceiling, trying to decide the answer. “I… don’t know. I think it may have been worse. It had been the worst spanking he’d ever given me, so part of me says, no, the spanking was worse. But when I think back on it, the embarrassment of standing there just killed me.”
    “Good to know. Just as I expected.” He smiled at her. He definitely knew that humiliation would play a key factor in any discipline session with her.
    “He tipped me over his knee and proceeded to hand spank my bottom until I was screeching and very sore. He then stood me up, telling me to stand in front of my mother and apologize. Once I stood in front of him again, he told me to go upstairs, get his big belt out of his dresser and put it on the bed. He then told me I was to visit the bathroom, finishing with standing in the corner waiting for him.”
    Maxim interrupted. “Would it be worse being sent to retrieve it, having to carry and hold it before bringing it to him? Or is it harder not knowing what would be chosen and waiting to see what he held in his hand as he came into your room?”
    “Oh, God. I hated having to get it and bring it to him. That, I think, was the worst. I never liked touching it. And having to walk to where he was, watching him fold it and palm the buckle, made me shiver.”
    “I bet. I never liked that either.” He smiled at her, encouraging her to continue.
    She nodded, taking a deep breath. “So, it was a little easier to carry it to my bedroom. But it always felt so heavy and unyielding, the wide, thick leather in my hand. The sound of the buckle jingling made me shiver. But not knowing, and waiting for him to bring it would be difficult. When if I had to fetch it, I guess I still had a tiny bit of control, even if it was forced participation. Not knowing would leave me totally vulnerable.”
    “Yes, it would. You don’t like being vulnerable, do you?”
    She shook her head
    “I forgot to ask. He had you take down your pants and panties. Did you ever have to stand while he took them down? And which was worse?” He leaned back again, looking forward to this answer.
    “When I was younger, he would take them down. Again, I hated not having any control — even if all it meant was how fast or slow they were taken down. But I always found it difficult to obey and take them down myself too, like if I stalled long enough I might not have to take them down at all.” She shrugged. She knew quite well that control had always been a huge issue for her.
    “I think it would depend on the punishment, if defiance to rules was an issue, then making you obey order would be appropriate. But if who is in charge is the issue, making you submit to me, waiting for me to pull them down would make sense.” He quietly stared at her. He felt like he had slowly begun to peel away the mystery of Caroline, layer-by-layer. She was beginning to make sense.
    He nodded slowly. “Continue.”
    “After a bit, he’d come up the stairs to my room. I’d hear him take the belt off the bed, the rustling of fabric. I knew he’d be placing two pillows in the middle of the bed, and then he’d call me from the corner. He’d motion to the pillows, a silent directive, and I’d place myself over them. After what seemed like a very long time, the room completely