“And?”
Did she want another?
Yes.
She asked.
This time the cane hit the upper side of one breast, and then the other in rapid succession. “Fuck,” Hailey whispered, and then blushed, the word not usually part of her active vocabulary. In a louder voice, she cried, “Thank you, Sir,” and before giving herself a chance to think about it, added, “May I have another?”
The stroke to her nipple made her see stars, and she heard herself scream. She knew if she had been standing, she would have fallen to the ground at that moment, her hands clutching her throbbing nipple. It was too much. Too much.
But all she could do was open and close her hands as she struggled to maintain what was left of her decorum. “Thank you, Sir,” she finally managed to croak.
She knew he was waiting.
I’m going to take your measure.
This was a test—her first test. She would not fail. “Please, Sir,” she said, the sound of her words faint in her own ears. “May I have another?”
“Yes.”
The second nipple exploded in a ripple of radiating pain and a sob burst from Hailey’s mouth. She pressed her lips together and blinked back tears.
“Thank you, Sir,” she whispered.
Her eyes were closed, but they flew open when she felt his mouth close lightly over her nipple, his tongue licking away the pain. He lifted his head and lowered it again on her second nipple, again kissing away the worst of the pain.
“You please me, slave girl,” he murmured. He stepped back and to the side of the rack. She heard a clicking sound she recognized as the lever release. He pushed against the rack until it was parallel to the ground so she faced the ceiling, which was comprised of rough, bare wooden beams.
Master Ronan ran his fingers lightly over the welts he had left on her body. His hand trailed down between her legs, his fingers once again finding her spread cunt and slipping inside. “You’re soaking wet,” he announced, and Hailey closed her eyes, embarrassed her lust was so obvious, even though she recalled his mandate that she always be wet and ready for him.
Now the question was, would he do anything about it?
He answered the unspoken question with a circle of his fingers up and over her clit, which throbbed and twitched to his touch. He moved his fingers teasingly over her sex until she started to tremble. Oh god, was he going to let her come? He pressed his palm against her clit as his fingers explored the tight heat inside her. She began to pant. As he moved his hand against her, he leaned over to kiss and suckle her breasts.
She felt the delicious, buttery sensation of a climax sliding over her. What was the protocol? He hadn’t said…oh god, it was so good. So fucking good. Oh…ohhh…
“Please, Sir,” she finally managed to gasp. “May I come?”
The hand fell away. The lips were withdrawn.
Hailey opened her eyes in dismay and bit her lip to keep from swearing again in her frustration. She forced herself to look at her new Master. He was smiling, a cruel glint in his eyes. “Have you earned it, slave Hailey?”
She hated that question. She never knew how to answer it.
He must have taken her hesitation as a no, because he shook his head and said, “No, I agree. You haven’t yet earned the right to an orgasm. We’ll need to work on your focus.” He smiled again and shrugged. “But that’s okay. I don’t expect perfection. After all, it’s only your first day.”
He pushed the rack slowly downward until she was again standing upright. Crouching in front of her, he released her ankles from the cuffs. Suddenly exhausted, she sagged in her restraints. He put one arm supportively around her waist as he undid first one wrist cuff and then the other. She fell against him and he took her into his arms. If she pretended to be a little weaker than she actually was, it was only so he would continue to hold her.
He lifted her from the platform and set her on her feet. His arm still around her, he walked her to the tiny bedroom. He left her standing a moment as he pushed the coil of chain out of the way. He guided her down to the bed. It was surprisingly comfortable, the sheets fresh and cool.
He knelt beside her and examined her wrists and ankles, apparently satisfied there was no lasting damage from the restraints. He ran his finger lightly over the welts on her breasts, stomach and thighs. His touch reignited the sexual fire still burning inside her, but he was all business, his expression one of caretaker, not lover.
“Those aren’t too severe,” he informed her, his tone clinical. “We didn’t break the skin. But just to be safe, I’ll put a little salve on them.”
He rose and went into the bathroom, returning a moment later carrying a cup of water and a tube of salve, the same kind they used at The Compound. Hailey lifted her head and Master Ronan tilted the cup to her lips, letting her drink her fill. “Thank you, Sir,” she murmured, her head falling heavily back to the pillow.
She closed her eyes and let out a contented sigh as he gently rubbed the soothing cream into her tender, abraded skin. She hadn’t realized until that moment just how wiped out she was. The fatigue of the last day of travel and the whirlwind of her first few hours in Master Ronan’s charge had left her bone weary. Master Ronan was saying something about food and rest, but she couldn’t focus on his words. She didn’t have the strength left to lift a finger, much less keep her eyes open.
She heard the clank of the chain, and was dimly aware of something being attached to her collar, but was too exhausted to investigate. Despite the lingering ache in her unrequited cunt, she felt herself sinking into a dark, warm pool of slumber. She opened her mouth, intending to thank Master Ronan for the session, but before the words were out, she was gone.
Chapter 4
A small pinging sound indicated movement and Ronan’s gaze shifted from the ocean to the iPad he’d set on the patio table. Hailey was stirring at last. She hadn’t moved for the past hour, and he had been considering waking her soon, though clearly she needed the rest. He was glad she was waking of her own accord. She must be hungry. He would pull out one of the many dishes his cook had prepared before he’d sent her on a week’s paid vacation. His slave girl needed her strength, after all.
His slave girl!
Was this really happening?
The timing was perfect. His schedule was clear for the foreseeable future. There were no looming interviews, no scripts to read, no shoots to retake. His latest movie was in post-production, and he was in no hurry to move on to the next project, despite his agent’s constant pressure to seize the moment while he was still “hot”.
Hailey rolled from her side to her back. As she looked around the small space, he waited to see if she’d spy the unobtrusive home security camera he’d placed in a high corner, angled to take in the entire room. She didn’t seem to notice it, her eyes focusing instead on the skylight overhead.
Ronan had spent a night in the small bedroom in anticipation of her arrival to make sure the accommodations were suitable. He’d even placed a collar around his neck and slept in the chain. Its clanking had awakened him a few times as he turned over in his sleep, but otherwise the night had passed peacefully enough. He’d had to pee sometime before dawn, but had forced himself to hold it, reminding himself his slave girl would be expected to do the same.
She spied the bottle of water he’d placed beside the mattress. Lifting herself on one elbow, she reached for it and twisted off the cap. She drank deeply, replaced the cap and set it again beside the bed. She looked toward the door and called softly, “Master Ronan?”
He would go to her soon, but for the moment he enjoyed just watching her. With a small sigh, she lay back down. She touched her collar and then picked up the chain, letting the links slide through her fingers. She glanced again toward the open door.
Ronan started to rise, eager to see her in the flesh, but her movement on the screen caught his attention once more, and he sat slowly down again.
Her hands were moving over her body, str
oking her breasts, tracing the welts still visible from the caning. She brought her knees up so her feet were flat on the mattress and let her legs fall open. He had a perfect view of her smooth, bare cunt, the delicate labia flowering at her center. His cock stiffened in appreciation. He definitely had to fuck her soon.
Her right hand moved down between her legs. She moaned, the sound low and sexy. Ronan was riveted to the screen. He couldn’t possibly be witnessing what he seemed to be, and yet the camera didn’t lie.
She lifted her head and looked toward the open door, as if listening. After a moment she let her head fall again to the pillow. Her hand still covered her sex. She closed her eyes and bit her lip. Her hand began moving at her cunt, slowly at first, and then with more urgency.
“What the fuck?” Ronan whispered, both stunned and intrigued. Where was the extraordinarily trained slave girl he’d left chained in her dungeon bed? Surely she hadn’t forgotten his direct admonition not to touch herself without his express direction and permission.
“Why, that little slut,” he murmured, at once amused and angry. His cock had hardened to full erection at the sight of the masturbating beauty, but that didn’t excuse the wanton behavior, nor the flagrant disregard of a direct command.
He waited, his eyes glued to the screen. She began to pant, her breath interspersed with small mewling sounds. She stiffened suddenly and sighed a long, “ooooooh,” before going limp.
While aroused by what he’d witnessed, at the same time a small, bright ball of anger burned in Ronan’s chest. He felt tricked. Duped. Betrayed the moment his back was turned. The anger mingled with a sudden sadness. Maybe there was no such thing as a true submissive.
Hailey opened her eyes and lifted herself again on an elbow, turning to face the doorway. “Shit,” she whispered, her face crumpling in anguish. “Oh, shit, shit, shit.” She fell heavily back to the mattress and pushed her tousled hair back from her face. Clearly, she knew what she’d just done was wrong—in direct opposition to her Master’s dictates.
Closing the iPad cover, Ronan jumped to his feet and strode into the house. He bounded up both flights of stairs and walked rapidly through the dungeon to the girl’s room.
“Oh!” she said softly as he entered the small room. “Sir.” She swallowed hard and blew out a breath. Her cheeks and chest were still flushed with post-orgasmic color, the guilt writ large on her face.
“You’re awake, I see,” Ronan said, his voice coming out harder than he’d intended.
“Yes, Sir.”
He forced a smile. “Did you rest comfortably?”
“Yes, Sir. I…um…” She bit her lip, her eyes filling with tears.
Ronan moved to her. Crouching beside her, he unclasped the chain from her collar. “Yes? What is it, Hailey? Do you have something to tell me?”
She swallowed hard and blinked back the tears. He could see the struggle in her face but he made no move to intervene. He waited.
“I-I need to use the bathroom, please, Sir.”
Ronan frowned, but swallowed his disappointment. “Of course.” He gestured toward the bathroom. He rose to his feet as Hailey rolled from the mattress and stood. She walked a little unsteadily toward the bathroom. He didn’t follow.
He waited as he heard her use the toilet and then run the water in the sink. She came out a moment later. “Feeling better?” he asked, still deciding how to play this.
She smiled, but after a moment the smile slid away from her face and tears again filled her eyes. She sank to her knees and lowered herself until her head was touching the floor at his feet. “I’m sorry, Sir. I’m so sorry,” she said, her words muffled by her position.
The tight ball of anger melted away. He was nearly certain she remained unaware she’d been watched, and yet she was going to confess! He instantly forgave her, though he wasn’t going to let her off the hook.
“What for, Hailey? Why are you sorry?”
She mumbled something into the floor. Ronan crouched in front of her and tapped her shoulder. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”
Hailey leaned back on her haunches and wrapped her arms protectively around her torso. A single tear rolled down her cheek. “I disobeyed you, Sir. I didn’t mean to. Well, I mean, I didn’t quite realize what was happening until it was too late.” She pressed her lips together and shook her head, a resolute look coming over her face.
“Okay, no. No, that’s not true. I could have stopped. I knew what I was doing. I was just so—” Again she stopped herself. “No. No excuse, Sir. I disobeyed you. I’m so very sorry.”
Another tear coursed down her face. Ronan wiped it away with his thumb. “Tell me,” he said gently. “Tell me what happened.”
She looked down. “I touched myself, Sir. I…I made myself come, Sir.”
“I see.”
She looked up. “I’m so embarrassed, Sir. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was just so—I mean, you’re so, um, I mean, it’s been so long and…god, there is no excuse. I disobeyed you. I knew what I was doing.”
“And…?”
“And I need to be punished, Sir.” Her voice trembled slightly and she looked down at the floor.
“Yes. I agree.” Ronan stood, relief, excitement and trepidation moving through him in equal measure. Though he’d witnessed it several times during his training, he’d never actually punished someone himself for a specific transgression.
“Remind me,” he said, looking down at her blond head, “what the punishment is for touching yourself and orgasming without permission.”
“I’m to be whipped until you…” she faltered and then continued, “until you draw blood, Sir.” Her voice cracked as she said the word blood.
“That’s correct.” He let the statement hang in the air for a while. She was trembling, clearly terrified of what awaited her. She could have kept quiet. He was nearly certain she was unaware of the security camera. Her conscience had driven her to do the right thing, not fear of being called out. She had transgressed, but then she’d faced up to what she’d done, despite the fact that blood seemed to be a negative trigger for her.
For a moment Ronan wavered. It was her first day, after all. She’d been through a lot. Perhaps he should let it go and move on. The words of Henry Schaffer, his primary trainer at The Exchange Club, came into his mind, and he knew that would be the wrong decision. Henry had taught him the importance of never making a promise to a sub on which you weren’t fully prepared to follow through. A Master must stand by his word. He owed it not only to himself, but to his submissive.
By the same token, he needed to take proper care of his slave girl. He tapped her shoulder. As she rose to her feet, he said, “You will be punished. But first, you need to eat something. Let’s go down and have some dinner.”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” She offered a tremulous smile.
He couldn’t help it. He took her into his arms and kissed her.
~*~
The food was delicious—several fine cheeses and cold meats, and some kind of flaky puff pastry filled with mushrooms, plus little fruit tarts with custard for dessert—but Hailey had a hard time getting much down, anxiety over the upcoming punishment looming large in her mind.
She still couldn’t quite believe she’d done what she’d done. Even as she rubbed herself to rapid orgasm, she had known she was breaking the rules, and that she would have to confess.
The real question was why had she done it?
She knew the answer, of course. It was Ronan’s fault. Well, not his fault precisely, but she’d been so deeply aroused not only by his physical beauty, but by his intensely masterful domination in their first hours together, coupled with the passion of that one perfect kiss, that she’d been on fire with lust.
She’d let her body’s needs override her sense of duty as Master Ronan’s submissive. She’d lost her way long enough to steal her own pleasure, in flagrant disregard to her Master’s express wishes. It had been a relief to confess, but now she had to fa
ce the consequences.
It was odd, too—she’d sensed Master Ronan wavering as he decided how to handle her confession, and in that split second before he announced his decision, she realized she didn’t want him to let her off the hook. She understood in that moment she needed a Master who stood by his word, no matter how harsh the decree might be.
Master Ronan pushed back from the table. “You ready, slave girl? It’s time.”
Hailey set down her fork, her heart doing a loop-de-loop in her chest. “Yes, Sir.”
She followed silently behind her Master as he moved through the house and up both sets of stairs. By the time they reached the dungeon, the small amount of food she’d managed to ingest sat like a ball of lead in her belly, and a combination of fear and anticipation rose like a lump in her throat, making it hard to swallow.
Master Ronan led her to the center of the room. He faced her, his hands on his hips. He still wore the white shorts he’d had on earlier, and had put a faded red T-shirt on over them. His feet were still bare. “You will stand for your punishment. I’m not going to restrain you in any way. You will raise your hands over your head and cross your wrists. You will not move until I give you permission to do so. I’m going to whip you until you bleed. Do you agree willingly to this punishment, slave Hailey?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir,” she managed, fairly certain her voice hadn’t trembled. She lifted her arms and crossed her wrists as directed, willing her heartbeat and her breathing to slow.
Serenity. Peace. Submission. Grace.
He left her and went to the whip wall. He returned a moment later with a long signal whip, the leather thong coiled in one hand. He let it unfurl. It was easily three feet long, the last several inches studded with knots.
Hailey drew in a deep, cleansing breath. She could do this. She deserved it. She needed it.
Master Ronan cracked the whip in the air and Hailey jumped.
“I said you are not to move,” he snapped.
Beyond the Compound: The Compound Trilogy - Book 2 Page 5