Bedroom Talk and Punishment Consent

The Detective had looked extremely sexy wearing nothing but her coat and a thong, but Marc was playing things by instinct and he felt like having her give up her covering was just another little part of the build-up.

He led her up to his bedroom but didn’t turn to look at her as he went to the dresser and carefully laid out the dress that he had taken back from her. She really had looked stunning in it, and he had no intention of keeping it from her. Hell, he wanted to see her in it again. But for now it was a symbol, and leaving it in the open like that would keep her guessing. Once that was done, he turned and gestured for Sinead to sit on the end of the bed. She followed the silent directive and sat up straight, making no move to try to cover herself. Her upper chest and neck were still a little flush from embarrassment, but her dazzling spray of freckles were clear. Marc had a moment of desire, wanting to just kiss her and get his mouth on those firm nipples of hers, but he resisted.

Sinead looked at him with an expression somewhere between contrition and frustration, which seemed like a good place to have her for what came next.

“As I said, Detective, I am not interested in exploring and having fun with brats. I am not attracted to teenagers, either physically or mentally. I am attracted to women. Tonight you acted like a brat, n'est-ce pas?”

Sinead swallowed and nodded just once. She’d already apologised and Marc could tell that she wasn’t thrilled with the admission, and how he wasn’t just blanket accepting it.

“There are consequences to actions in the real world. You know this well, you are part of the justice system,” Marc continued. “The same is true of relationships of all kinds. Business, familial, and personal. So here is what I think needs to happen - you acted like a brat tonight, so this one time I will hand out a consequence. A punishment, if I were a man who thought such things proper. Et je ne suis pas le genre d’homme qui prend plaisir à donner des punitions quand elles sont méritées. I'm no supervisor and you're not some college girl. I do not want to treat my friends as pets who need correction. After tonight, if you act like a brat again, we will end our arrangement. That is the boundary I am setting. You can disagree with me, argue, or even hate me at times, but I will not stand for childish petulance. C'est compris?”

Sinead clenched her jaw lightly, her eyes boring into Marc’s before she opened her mouth to speak. “Am I allowed to set boundaries?”

“Of course you can,” Marc sighed. “Though that is a discussion for another time, I think, because right now the power imbalance is too great. So, Detective… I am going to punish you like a brat gets punished, but I will not do so if you do not consent.”

“What sort of punishment are we talking about?” Sinead asked, her brow slightly furrowed.

“What sort of punishment do you think a mouthy, petulant brat deserves?” Marc asked, raising an eyebrow lightly.

Sinead flushed a soft pink and rolled her lips in a little to bite them. She knew. It was obvious. And she knew it would be embarrassing.

“Do you consent?” Marc asked firmly.

Sinead sucked in a big breath through her nose and then let it out slowly before nodding.

“Bien,” he said. “Remove your thong and get on the bed on your hands and knees.”

As Sinead dealt with the mental effort of following that order and what would come next, Marc went into his closet and opened up a small cupboard. Inside were some of the toys that he and Felicity had used over the last few years. Marc selected a simple silicone paddle. It had enough firmness and flex to get the job done but wasn’t going to risk much damage. There were others that he and Felicity had graduated up to - she enjoyed a good spanking as part of the mild masochism they played with - so this one hadn’t been used in some time.

When he came back out of the closet, Sinead was looking over her shoulder at him, her ginger hair pulled over one shoulder. She was sitting with her ass low, almost squatting on her knees, and Marc tutted as he shook his head.

“Come now, Detective. Tu sais que ce n'est pas la position appropriée pour ce qui t'attend,” he said as he stood just to the side and behind her, tapping her body with the paddle as he indicated what needed to be changed. “Knees apart. Down to your elbows, that will be easier. Push your ass out. You may arch your back if you want to maximise the visual, but it isn’t necessary. Ah, there. Bien. Much better.”

Marc went to the side of the bed and showed her the paddle properly as she knelt on her elbows and knees, completely ****. She was fully flushed now, her freckles almost disappearing as she breathed deeply and tried to keep her composure and dignity. “This is the tool I will be using,” Marc said. “It is not so bad, see? Feel it.”

Sinead held the paddle, rubbing her thumb over the flat part and feeling it flex a little. She swallowed as she looked at it, then looked up at him. “This is some sort of a training toy, isn’t it?” she guessed.

“It is,” Marc said.

“I can take whatever you’ve got,” she said. “I’m not some weak little girl. If we’re doing this then fucking do it.”

Marc sighed, pressing his lips together in a firm line. She was doing it again, though she didn’t seem to realise it this time. She was challenging his judgement. Sinead thought she was being strong, so he didn’t feel the same frustration.

“Je vais donc te donner deux leçons ce soir au lieu d'une.” Marc muttered under his breath. “Fine, Detective. You think you know better than me, so I will show you why I chose this punishment.”

Sinead nodded, a hard certainty in her eyes, and Marc left her holding the paddle as he went back into the closet and opened the cupboard. He reached into the back and pulled out the thin, hard cane. It was only about half a centimetre wide and had just the right amount of flex. Looking at it, Marc Took a deep breath and shook his head. It would only take one stroke if she was smart, or two if she wanted to be stubborn.

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