The Challenge Two Alphas, One Girl

By the time we were at six, he had his face between my butt cheeks and his tongue darting in and out of
my behind. I wriggled a lot. He put a stop to my movements with the seventh smack. I moaned. He
squeezed my cheeks making me whimper. He playfully nipped at me. I squealed and he laughed. That
last five to make the dozen were much lighter. I could tell my bum would probably be a little pink and he
was worried. Maze had introduced me to a kink I did not know I had. I liked to be spanked. He untied me
and I went limp in his arms.

“You all right, Princess?” He asked as he carried me to the bathroom.

“Mmmhmm,” I said, nodding. “Yes, Daddy.”

He chuckled. He ran us a warm bubble bath. He lathered and massaged my skin until I was putty in his
hands. I crashed my lips against his, tangling my fingers in his hair. Maze washed me off and helped me
get dressed for dinner even though we would be having it in his room again. The food was delicious as
always and when I was done stuffing my face, Maze carried me bridal style back to my room. I rubbed
the huge bulge straining against his pants as he lay me down to sleep, realising I did not get a chance to
please him today.

“It’s almost midnight, Baby. See you on the day after tomorrow, Princess,” he promised, grabbing my
hand and kissing each fingertip.

I nodded, yawning, and soon fell asleep. Maze’s POV

My beautiful little Friday had done exceptionally well today. I was so proud of her. I was not expecting her
to be comfortable with my kinks and I was prepared to forgo the whole exercise if she protested but
Friday was full of surprises. I watched her drift off to sleep. I sighed. I still thought often about that night
when I rejected her. I wished I had not acted so hastily. Now, I was fighting for Friday. I could not imagine
losing her. It had hit me recently how miserable my father must have been. Being so close to his mate all
those years but not being able to actually be with her must have been torture. It made sense to me why
he could never really be a good husband to my mother. He was a hostage in a sense, under duress for
the duration of the marriage. I kissed

“Sleep dreams, Luna,” I whispered.