Hard Lessons

by Jasmin Quinn

  It was a splash of ice water for Mira, jarring her back to the reality of her situation. She started to struggle then, against his hold, but he tightened his grip, pulling her to him, grabbing her wrists as she flailed at him. “You sonofabitch!” She spat. “Get off of me.”

  Jack grabbed her neck and tightened his grip until she felt herself starving for air. “I’ll stop squeezing,” he said. “When you stop struggling.”

  Mira had no choice. It was a deadly dance and he was leading it. She stilled herself but couldn’t stop the tears of mortification that coursed down her face. What he did to her, what she let him do to her. How could her body betray her like that? Jack eased the pressure off her neck then ran his hand down her arm, bringing it to rest on her hip. He shifted her off him back to her original seat, cushioned between him and the arm of the couch. He passed her wine to her and took a drink of his scotch.

  He looked down at the amber liquid, swirled it in the glass and then said, “It’s late Mira. We have a busy weekend ahead of us. We should go to bed soon, don’t you think?”

  Mira’s throat closed on her. She understood where this was leading and knew there was no way out. She looked at him, his eyes demanding she respond. “I don’t want to sleep with you,” she whispered.

  A small smile played at Jack’s lips. “You won’t. You haven’t yet earned the right to sleep with me.” Relief flooded her as he drew a finger across her lips tracing their outline. He looked thoughtful, almost wistful. “You truly are beautiful, Mira, but if I let you sleep with me, in my bed, you’d get in my head again and I don’t think you understand yet what that means. Hopefully by tomorrow night you will.” He drained the last of his scotch and then stood and took the wine from her, setting both glasses on the table and pulling Mira to her feet. “I’ll show you where you’ll sleep tonight.”

  He took her hand and led her down a hall and through a heavy door, locking it behind him. “We’ll talk about the rules while I get you ready for bed.”

  The room Mira stepped into was cool, dimly-lit and windowless. It looked like a small gym, but she knew it was not. It had benches and restraints, paddles and whips. Toys. And a king-sized four-poster bed with black pillows, black sheets, black duvet. It was a BDSM playroom. Mira shuddered involuntarily and hugged her arms tightly to her body. Maybe it was the room that Amber died in. And her mind panicked at the thought, freezing her in her tracks, her legs refusing to carry her further into the nightmare. Jack turned to her, his eyes narrowing at her resistance.

  “Perhaps we should talk about the rules now, a demonstration of what happens when you break them.”

  Mira shook her head in terror. “No, please.” She started walking again, tentatively, her legs jelly under her, wanting to collapse, staying upright through sheer will.

  “Good girl.” Jack drew her by the arm through the room to a mattress on the floor next to the wall furthest from the door. “This is where you’ll sleep tonight.”

  Mira sucked in a deep breath as she looked at her bed. The mattress seemed clean and relatively new. There was a pillow and a quilt stacked up at the end of it. She found herself ironically grateful.

  “Will it work?” Jack asked watching her intently.

  “Yes,” she said in a small voice. “Thank you.”

  He threw her a slight knowing smile. “Take off your bra and panties.”

  Mira hesitated fractionally, her brain screaming at her, but she didn’t dare object. Her fingers shook as she unclasped her bra and let it drop to the floor and then slid her panties over her ass, down her legs, stepping out of them. She met Jack’s appreciative gaze as she looked at him. She saw the want in his eyes, the lust in his face.

  “You’re even more beautiful now.” He let a small breath escape his lips. “You’re perfect.”

  Mira felt a fleeting gratification at his words and then shook herself at the insanity of it.

  He looked at her discarded underwear. “Pick them up and give them to me.” As she handed them to him, he pulled her close to him, his breathing heavy and jagged. “I might not get any sleep tonight if we don’t play a little. What do you think, Mira? Just a little?” Then he swallowed her answer as he kissed her, searching her tongue out, sucking at it. “I won’t let you come again though. But if you let me come inside you, then tomorrow morning, I’ll be more attentive to your needs. Does that work for you?”

  Mira sucked in her breath, biting at her lower lip, trying to keep from tearing up. “It’s not like I have a choice.”

  Jack touched her cheek with the back of his hand, gently. A lover’s caress. “Of course you do. I just gave you a choice.”

  “But you didn’t tell me the alternative.”

  He let out a small bark of a laugh. “Always the lawyer, aren’t you? No, you don’t get to know the alternative. Part of the thrill is the element of surprise.” He dropped his hands to her arms, holding them gently, waiting.

  When she didn’t answer, he frowned.

  “Mira, you must always answer me when I speak to you. Always. I’ve told you that twice. I think you need to understand the gravity of this rule.” He gripped her hand and pulled her away from the mattress to a narrow, soft leather bench that could have been a weight lifting bench, but Mira knew it was not. He forced her face down on her belly, her thighs straddling the bench, stretching her open. She felt herself cramp with the pressure as he pushed her knees to the soft carpet. Her ass was exposed, and a savage vulnerability swept over her. She tried to struggle against him, fighting him through her anger and fear, but he pressed his knee on her back, applying pressure that rapidly turned to pain.

  “Stop, please!” she cried.

  And he did. “Stay still, Mira. Exactly as you are. You don’t want to disobey again.”

  Mira stopped struggling, believing his threat. Jack walked away. She could hear his footsteps echo on the hard floor, the sound of a cabinet door, and some clanking. She could try to escape, jump up and run out the door. Slam it shut on him, and go where? And what would happen when he caught up.

  Her indecision cost her as he returned. He knelt beside her and placed thick black cuffs on each of her wrists, tightening them. Then he drew her arms down the legs of the bench and linked them to either side. “The bench is bolted to the floor so there’s no give and there are pads on the bench that you can grip for leverage when you need to.”

  Mira muffled a panicked, shaky sob. She didn’t know if she needed to answer him. She didn’t know what to say.

  Jack seemed not to expect a reply, instead stroking his hand down her back to her ass, stopping momentarily to rub one of the cheeks. Then he moved on and she felt him place cuffs on her ankles. “I won’t be restraining your legs because I want your ass in the air.”

  Mira cringed. It was punishing to hear him walk her through each step of his intent. She wondered if he understood how terrorized she was, then lost the thought as he gripped her waist with his hands and pulled her up, placing her knees on the bench, holding her while she steadied herself. Now she was face down on the bench, her arms secured to its legs, her ass high in the air. Jack said, “Ah, almost perfect. Just one more thing. You can handle one more thing, can’t you, Mira?” He waited for her to answer.

  Mira trembled. “Yes,” she whispered, and her world went dark as he slipped a soft satiny blindfold over her eyes, tying it at the back of her head with deft fingers. It was an odd feeling for her, the sensory deprivation. She felt less humiliated, less terrorized, less like herself. Almost safe.

  She felt him pat her ass with his hands and he kneaded her cheeks a few times. Then his disembodied voice, “Don’t move, Mira.” A silence fell across her. A moment passed and then another. Nothing happened. Her stomach was knotted in fear, in anticipation. She strained to hear Jack’s movements, but it was quiet. She wondered if he left and the thought of his abandonment made her eyes tear. Whatever was going to happen next, she needed it to happen. She couldn’t be like this all night, she couldn’t not m
ove.

  And then, without warning, a sharp thwack shattered the silence and pain sliced across her ass. “No!” she cried out in anger, outrage, humiliation. She was being paddled. He ignored her, hitting her again, and then again. She tried to swallow the pain, but the sobs escaped her. “Jack, please stop!” She shrieked.

  And he relented. “Mira, nothing will happen to you this weekend that you won’t recover from easily and quickly, but I expect more from you than crying and pleading. You’re going to take this punishment with dignity. For every word you utter, I will add a stroke. Do you understand?” His voice was imposing, hard, unyielding.

  “Yes,” Mira said in a small voice. What else could she say? She understood that there was no way out, that he was merciless. She hated him.

  “Ride with it, Mira. Let it roll through you. You might find it pleasurable.” Then the paddle again, across each butt cheek, randomly so she couldn’t predict where it would land next. Her sobbing gave way to a soft weeping with small moans that she tried to stifle but couldn’t.

  He stopped, knowing somehow when she was on the verge of collapse. She felt his hands on her ass, massaging it, rubbing the pain away, but also into her, mixing it with pleasure. His finger slid into her vagina, in and out, rubbing inside at the walls, at her g-spot. Then two.

  “You’re wet, baby.” His voice draped over her like warm melted wax. Inexplicably, she pushed her ass towards the fingers that were fucking her, felt her desire growing, wanting him to make her come. He stopped then, withdrawing from her, leaving her whimpering, but not daring to ask. Then he hit her again, twice more on each check, punishment for her initial resistance. This time when he rubbed the cheeks of her ass, he used a warm oil, the smell of lavender floating over her, settling her. He massaged her with intensity, his knowing fingers biting into her sensitive flesh hard then gentle then hard again. Mira’s need was pricking at her, taunting her. She couldn’t believe how turned-on she was becoming despite being shackled, blindfolded and beaten by a man she barely knew, by someone she hated. It was as frightening as it was overwhelming. How could she be responding to Jack’s savageness with desire? And yet she desperately wanted him inside her, fucking her, making her come.

  He moved away from her ass and she sensed him next to her face. “Are you okay, Mira?” His breath brushed her ear.

  “Yes,” she said, her voice hushed.

  He touched his lips to hers. “You learn fast, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she whispered again.

  “Good. Because tomorrow your lessons begin in earnest.”

  Mira drew a sharp breath as an iciness shuddered through her. Her high waned and the helplessness of her situation crashed down on her. The fear was back, fear of him, of her situation, but also fear of her body’s betrayal. A few minutes ago, she’d almost begged him not to stop. It was so intense, a delicious intermingling of pain and desire so fierce that she would have come at the merest touch.

  “But we’re not done yet, are we Mira?”

  Mira bit her lip. “No.”

  “Time for you to answer my question. Will you let me fuck you tonight?”

  His words seared through, bringing her desire back to the forefront. “Yes,” she whispered. She wanted to feel his pelvis slamming against her ass, feel the pain of her paddling mingle with the pleasure coursing through. She wanted release. He kissed her again as he straightened up, trailing his hand across her back, over her ass as he walked away. She heard the zipper on his pants and sensed him standing behind her. He was going to fuck her here while she was tied and helpless. She didn’t know anymore if she was trembling from fear or anticipation.

  He brushed his finger down the crack of her ass, lingering for a moment on the anus, touching it gently before moving on to her pussy. She heard him draw a jagged breath as he felt her wetness. “Mira, I am going to fuck you now. Brace yourself and keep your knees on the bench and your ass up.”

  He gripped her by her hips and his cock slid into her. She moaned as he plumbed her depths, stopping when he was fully inside her. “One other thing, Mira. You cannot come tonight. Is that understood?”

  “I don’t know if can control that,” she confessed, humiliated by her admission.

  “You better control it.” He didn’t need to say why not.

  Then he began thrusting in and out of her, slowly at first, making sure she was steady, then picking up speed until his thrusting was fierce and cruel. He held her tight, his fingers digging into her flesh as he slammed into her over and over, no gentleness or care. She wrapped her hands around the legs of the bench as he pounded her. Her body was responding to his savageness, to his single goal of release and it was pulling her up with him. Her clit was crying out for attention, and she thought she might come without direct stimulation. Her breathing paced his, she could hear whimpers escaping her throat. How would he know if she came? He was so frenzied that he wouldn’t notice her tremors.

  He slowed his thrusting for a minute, while he rubbed her ass, massaging down the pain, causing her to cry out. She could hear herself pleading with him, whimpering, crying and was mortified by her weakness. She felt him pulse inside her, grow harder. He started thrusting savagely again, no mercy for her pleasure, she was just a vessel for his lust.

  “Jesus fuck!” he cried out hoarsely as he hammered into her, groaning his pleasure before exploding, burying his cock in her pussy while he pumped his jets of semen deep inside her. He ran his hands over her ass, her back, to her hair, tangling his fingers through the strands, before letting go and retracing his path back to her ass. He stayed for a minute, holding himself in her, his hands caressing her intimately. As he withdrew, she felt his abandonment, her need coursing through her, her clit thrumming with desire.

  “Please Jack,” she begged him, physically and sexually vulnerable. He made her that way, frail, supplicant. Her rational mind knew how pathetic she was, but she couldn’t stop herself.

  “Please what, Mira?”

  “Please make me come. I need to come.” Her voice was raspy; she sounded so needy. In this moment, she wasn’t sure who she hated more, herself for being so weak, or him for making her that way.

  He chuckled as his breathing settled. “No. That wasn’t the deal. You’ll wait until morning.”

  He unchained her and gently helped her sit up, keeping her wrists gripped so she couldn’t touch herself. Fear was replaced by a wisp of anger. That was fine, Mira simmered. He couldn’t keep her that way all night. At some point he’d leave her alone and then she’d find her own fucking release. He helped her up from the bench and led her through the darkness. Her legs struggled to support herself and a brief moment of gratitude flickered through her brain, thankful that Jack was there to lead her.

  “Take off the blindfold,” he ordered as he pushed her onto her mattress. His voice, his treatment of her was gentle, contradictory to before, when he hit her, then savaged her. It unsettled her.

  She reached up with trembling fingers and drew it from her eyes, blinking at the sudden light, dim as it was. As she refocused, she saw him staring at her. He was still fully dressed, not a hair out of place. In contrast, she was huddled on the mattress on the floor, naked but for the cuffs on her wrists and ankles, his semen leaking out from between her thighs, her ass smarting from the paddling, her breath reedy and shallow, and the rest of her thrumming with a need so intense she was shaking inside. She sat on the mattress with her hands clenched, her fingers curling into the sheet. Jack reached behind him and pulled a square leather ottoman over to her, then sat on it so he was looking down on her. The master and his pet.

  “It’s going to be an intense weekend, baby.” He smiled as he reached down and stroked her cheek. “Eye opening for you and extremely entertaining for me.” Then he leaned down and nuzzled her ear, before whispering, “You are very sexy, love. You’re making me rethink my wandering ways.”

  Mira shook visibly. What did he mean by that? Was he thinking of keeping her? She started to sa
y something, but he shook his head. “No more talking tonight, my beautiful. Time for sleep.” He knelt beside her, taking her hands in his and pulling them up over her head. He attached a cable to the cuffs on her arms tethering her wrists together and forcing her to lie down on her back. The other end of the cable was already anchored to something on the floor. Mira tried to pull her arms up, but the cable was short and there was very little give. Oh god, he was going to leave her this way all night. She whimpered at the realization and he smiled at her as he reached down to her legs and spread them apart shackling the ankle bands to short cables. She was exposed and helpless. And madly turned on, so much so that she couldn’t stop the tremors coursing through her body.

  Jack knelt between her legs, his eyes drinking her in like a man in desperate need of water. When his heated gaze met her eyes, he said softly, “Are you afraid, Mira?”

  Mira considered how she should answer. Deep down she should be afraid. She was helpless, not just her body exposed, but all her defences stripped away as well, and the man in front of her was not known for his kindness. To the outside world, he was hard and savage, but in the moment, she was less fearful and more intrigued about what might happen next. The fear and danger served to heighten her lust and his handling of her threatened to push her over the edge. He’d already taken her to heights she didn’t know she could reach. Could he take her higher? Could he make her want all that he was forcing on her? It didn’t matter, she could not admit to the devil that she’d give him her soul no matter how he made her body respond. Finally, she said, “Yes. I’m still afraid.”

  Somehow, he saw right through her. “I think you’re lying.”

  “I’m not.” She couldn’t find the power in her voice and it came out feathery soft. “But you’re making me crave you.”

  Jack flashed a brief satisfied smile at her, then dropped his head between her thighs, running his knowing tongue hard along her folds until he reached her clit, which he scraped with his teeth, just once, but it was enough to force her need intensely back to the surface. “Jack,” she moaned. “Please.”