Free French Blue by Natasha Bond

on her lower back. “You’ll be able to come very soon, and I promise I will make it worth bearing this small discomfort.”
    At his gentle words, Lisa stilled. All her fear seemed to fly away, replaced with a sense of relief and peace so overwhelming she thought she might float out of her body. She’d done it. She’d crossed a line she’d always wanted to but thought she never would. She was here, naked, ready, willing—accepting—of her total submission to Olivier. This moment was her whole life now, and she would wait patiently for the first stroke to fall, she would accept it all without complaint, and surrender to pleasure and pain.
    She twitched as she felt the coolness and weight of leather across her behind as Olivier rested the paddle across the centre of her buttocks. The pressure of his hand increased, holding her down more firmly.
    “Don’t tense your muscles, cherie .”
    At this ominous warning, Lisa’s glutes tightened even harder. She tried to regain her composure and breathe slowly, in, out, in…
    “ Un .”
    Lisa’s yelp filled the room. Oh God. It wasn’t at all like she expected; no “sweet sting”—more like a burning thwack that made her hips buck wildly. Before she had time to think, she heard Olivier’s voice, calm and steady.
    “ Deux .”
    The paddle cracked down again, and she squealed. She gasped and wriggled, but his hand held her down firmly. Oh holy fuck, she hadn’t expected this, to want to avoid the blows. It wasn’t how she imagined it. Small discomfort? Like hell it was! And no matter what he’d said, there was no time to even think of relaxing before she heard the whoosh of the paddle cutting through the air again.
    “ Trois .”
    Lisa abandoned any attempt at elegant bravery and jerked against the couch as the intense burn spread through her cheeks and seemed to invade her whole body.
    “ Quatre .”
    The paddle rested briefly on her behind again before snapping against her flesh.
    She cried out and tried to twist around to protest. “It really hurts. I didn’t realise it would be this bad. Ow!”
    She didn’t have time to register his “ cinq ”before the fifth swat tore the breath from her body and brought hot tears to her eyes. Oh shit, she didn’t want to cry, but it was even harder than the others and sizzled her skin.
    Tears spilled down her cheeks. She couldn’t take anymore. The safe word. Whatwas it? She had to use it, no matter what the consequences. Damn. What was it? A famous painter… She only had to say it, and it would all end. It would be over, she could walk away from Olivier, but…
    Da Vinci.
    The name appeared before her eyes. It hung there, but she didn’t reach out to take it. The last stroke hadn’t fallen yet. He was giving her time to rest—and to decide. She couldn’t give up now, not when she was so close to pleasing him, to proving to Olivier, her Dom, and to herself, that she could take her correction as well as any other sub he’d had. She clung to the edges of the velvet cushion, bracing against the final stroke. She would take this final blow with dignity and bravery, and afterwards there would, surely, be pleasure, soothing, and glorious pleasure.
    “ Six. ”
    That was her voice, saying the number in French.
    The final stroke cracked down on her behind. It was harder than any of the others, but she managed to stifle a howl, and it was done.
    Lisa stayed where she was, her arms limp now and her toes scraping the carpet, overwhelmed by competing sensations of pain and pleasure. Olivier’s hand was on her back, stroking her softly. The tears were coursing down her cheeks now, and not just because of her burning butt.
    His voice came from a distance. “Wait, let me help you,” he commanded as she tried to struggle upright. Her behind still burned, but what amazed her was her lack of ability to stand. Her limbs had turned to water and perspiration sheened her back.
    Olivier helped her upright, supporting her in his