Hailey was embarrassed at her lack of control. She knew better. “Yes, Sir. Excuse me, Sir. I will do better.”
“Prepare yourself. Twenty strokes. I will keep silent count for you.”
The first one licked across her left ass cheek, leaving a line of fire in its wake. Hailey pressed her lips together to keep from crying out. She was determined to take her punishment like a woman.
The second one hit her right cheek in the same spot. It was clear he was a master with the signal whip. Despite the pain, she took comfort from this.
The third stroke caught both cheeks at once, the leather cutting like a knife. In spite of her promise to herself, Hailey yelped with pain.
Several more strokes landed on her ass. Through it all, Hailey managed to hold herself in position, though she couldn’t quite stifle the little cries each cut of the knotted whip yanked from her lips. Still, she was proud of how she was enduring, and as long as she didn’t focus on the thought of her own blood, she could get through this.
Then he struck her back, and all promises of stoic obedience flew out the window. The pain was excruciating—nothing erotic about it. She screamed and stumbled forward.
“Back in position,” Master Ronan barked.
Hailey hurried to obey, pushing down the tide of panic threatening to break over her.
Serenity. Peace. Submission. Grace.
She straightened her spine and lifted her chin. She was strong. She was brave. She could do this.
The whip snaked between her shoulder blades and crisscrossed its way down her back. Several times she nearly begged him to stop. Her safeword rose like a prayer to her lips, but she pressed them together to keep it from escaping.
She would not give in. Master Ronan had promised her he would never harm her, and she believed him.
As the knotted leather continued its cruel journey over her skin, somehow she managed to stand tall and still, save for the uncontrollable trembling that had taken over her body. The whip returned to her ass, each stinging stroke like the cut of a knife. Hailey continued to recite her four-word mantra in her head, determined to make it through the ordeal. It had to be nearly over.
When it finally stopped, the pain continued to throb through tortured nerve endings. Sweat stung the skin on her back, ass and thighs. She wanted to sink to the ground and curl into a ball, but she held her position, arms over her head, wrists crossed, feet planted firmly on the ground.
Ronan appeared in front of her. He set the whip on the ground. “You may lower your arms. Stand at ease. The punishment is over. You did well. We move forward now—a clean slate.”
Hailey longed to wash herself clean in a cool shower. Soon, she told herself. Soon he will let me. I did well. The slate is clean.
She watched as Ronan moved to one wall of the dungeon and returned carrying a full-length mirror on its own stand. He set it down behind her.
“Look,” he commanded. “See the results of your punishment.”
Hailey felt a trickle of something warm and wet roll down her back. The air shimmered suddenly in front of her eyes and the room seemed to tip. She swallowed hard, willing away the rising nausea in her gut at the thought of seeing her own blood. She wanted to refuse, but it hadn’t been a question, and she hadn’t been offered a choice.
Steeling herself, she twisted back to see the damage. Her back and ass were striped with welts, but, though she’d been convinced he’d cut the skin a dozen times, in fact there were only two small trickles of blood, one just below her left shoulder blade, the other on her right thigh.
Still, those small, seeping red droplets were enough to tip the room again, and make the air swim unsteadily before her eyes. A strange whooshing sound rose in her ears. Ronan’s mouth was moving but she couldn’t make out the words. She felt herself tumbling forward and then his arms were around her. She closed her eyes and let the world slip away.
When she opened them again, she was lying on her stomach with absolutely no idea where she was or how she got there. She lay there utterly confused for several long seconds, until a deep, masculine voice jerked her back to the present.
“There you are. I was starting to get worried, Hailey.”
Hailey turned her head to focus on the man speaking. At the sight of Master Ronan the events of the last hour poured back into her brain like water spilling into a basin. “What happened?” she asked stupidly, her last memory that of twisting back to see herself in the mirror.
“What happened is you passed out cold. No warning. One second you were standing there, the next you were pitching forward, face-first. It was sheer luck I was able to catch you before you hit the ground.”
“Wow. Really? How long was I out for?”
“Just a couple of minutes. Are you feeling okay?”
The skin on her back and ass was coming back alive with a stinging vengeance. Other than that, she felt fine. “I’m okay, Sir. I’m sorry I did that. I’ve always been a little, uh, squeamish at the sight of my own blood.”
Ronan lifted a washcloth from a bowl of sudsy water and squeezed out the excess. He touched it lightly to her back and Hailey struggled not to wince. He moved it gently and carefully over her skin. “You should have warned me, Hailey. Blood wasn’t listed in your hard limits.”
“No, Sir. I’m sorry. I thought I was doing better with that, Sir. I had some training at The Compound. I don’t know what happened. It just—I’m sorry.”
He dipped the washcloth, wrung it out and again began to gently clean her skin. It felt good and she closed her eyes. “Okay,” he said. “But you need to talk to me, okay? One of the keys of any relationship, D/s or otherwise, is communication. I realize some of this is my fault. By telling you only to speak when spoken to, I limited your ability to communicate. I want to change that rule a little right now.”
Hailey opened her eyes as she waited for him to continue. Ronan dropped the washcloth in the water. Using a hand towel, he carefully blotted her skin. Next he smoothed the healing salve over the welts. His touch and his aftercare felt good.
“I want you to feel freer to speak,” he said, “especially if you’re afraid of something, or uncertain. You should know that I plan to take you further and deeper than your training at The Compound. I’ve been training too, you see. For over a year, I’ve been working with Master Dominants at a highly specialized BDSM training facility.”
Hailey opened her eyes in surprise. Though she knew the trainers at The Compound received some kind of formal BDSM education, it honestly hadn’t occurred to her that her new Master would have done the same. She realized she’d just assumed he’d bought her contract because he could.
Seeing the evident surprise on her face, Ronan smiled. “I take my position as your Master every bit as seriously as you take yours as my slave. I’ve had a lifelong fascination with the scene, and before I got too famous to go out in public without being assaulted, I used to go to clubs, but it has only been in the past few years that my interest has became more serious.”
He finished applying the salve, and Hailey felt the loss of his touch, though of course she kept this to herself. “Thank god for George,” Ronan continued. “He’s the one who told me about The Exchange. That’s the club where I received my training.”
Hailey nodded to show she was listening. “So, yeah,” Ronan continued, “back to what I was saying before—I want you to feel free to communicate when you’ve got issues, because I plan to—what did your contract say?” He looked up at the ceiling, as if reading some words he’d written there earlier. “Oh yeah—press the envelope of your submission as far as I deem appropriate.” He paused and then added, “And that’s pretty far, so consider yourself warned.” He laughed, the sound at once sensual and cruel, and a shiver of raw desire hurtled through Hailey’s loins.
He tapped her shoulder. “You okay to sit up? I thought we could go out and sit by the ocean for a while. The sun’s setting about now. This is my favorite time of the evening.”
He helped her to a sitt
ing position and then stood, extending a hand. She took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. “You good?” he inquired.
“Yes, thank you, Sir. I’m fine now.”
He nodded. “Good. So here’s the new rule. You may speak at any time you feel frightened or threatened in any way by what I’m asking you to do. In fact, I want you to, especially during this first month as we get to know each other. I will listen to your concerns.” He grinned, flashing his white movie-star smile. “Not that it means I’ll necessarily stop what I’m doing.” The smile fell away, though his mesmerizing green eyes continued to dance.
“In all seriousness, this exploration between us will be a two-way street. I do plan to push that envelope of yours further than you might think you can go, but I’ve already got a sense of your courage and your determination, and I like what I see.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Hailey said, the warmth of his praise moving through her like sunlight.
“That said”—he grinned again as he led her through the dungeon—”no more touching my property without permission.” He playfully swatted her mons, and her clit leaped to instant attention. “Got it?”
“Got it, Sir,” she replied, looking away so he wouldn’t see her blush.
Chapter 5
The sky was pink and white, the edges glimmering with molten gold. The water was silver and through his open windows Ronan could hear the waves gently lapping at the sand on his private beach. He loved this time of morning, before the hustle of the world, with its steady stream of texting, phone calls, appointments and obligations smashed through the peace like an iron fist through glass.
He touched the sleeping iPad beside him and the image of his slave girl lying naked and in chains appeared on the screen. Her room was bathed in the lemony half-light of dawn pouring through her skylight. As if feeling his eyes on her, she rolled from her side to her back, her eyes opening. Her hands moved to the collar around her neck, and then her fingers slid down the length of the chain one link at a time, as if it were a rosary. Her lips moved and he strained to catch the sound, but heard only the faint clink of the chain.
He glanced at the clock. It was only five thirty. He had planned to let her sleep as late as she liked this morning, since she’d had a long and exhausting first day. His cock hardened as he thought about what lay in store today. Now wide awake, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. He picked up the iPad and carried it with him to the bathroom. After peeing and washing up, he glanced again at the iPad screen. She was still awake, eyes focused on the skylight. Her hands were under her head, elbows jutting out on either side. What was she thinking?
Ronan toweled himself dry and padded into the bedroom. Grabbing his shorts, he slid them on and headed out of the room, eager to greet his slave. She must have heard him coming, because when he entered the room, she was on her knees on the mattress, palms resting upward on her spread thighs, back straight, eyes down, the chain falling in a line between her breasts, the very picture of submissive repose.
“Good morning, slave Hailey,” Ronan said. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
“I saw you were already awake, so I figured we’d go ahead and get the day started.”
Her eyes flew up to meet his. “You saw? I’m sorry, what?”
He grinned. So she still didn’t know. He pointed to the small, round camera nestled in shadow in the corner and watched the dawning realization on her face. “Did you think I’d leave you shackled and alone without making sure you were safe? I can see and hear you from wherever I am with that security camera. Audio and video, as sensitive as a baby monitor, but less obvious.”
Her mouth had fallen open, and a red flush moved over her cheeks like a wash of paint. Her hand flew to her mouth to cover a small, “Oh!” Recalling herself, she quickly lowered her hand back to her thigh and dropped her eyes.
“That’s right,” Ronan said, unable to hide his smile. “I knew what you’d done yesterday before you admitted it. It took real strength of character for you to confess without knowing I had seen your hand buried in that hot little cunt of yours.”
“Oh, Sir,” she murmured, the words ripe with contrition. “I’m so sorry—”
He moved closer and put his hand on the top of her head. “Stop. You transgressed. You confessed. You were punished, and it’s over. I told you that. We move forward. I need for you to let go of that, okay? Can you do that for me, Hailey?”
She looked up at him with grateful eyes. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
He squatted beside her and undid the clip that attached the chain to her collar. He had considered the idea of padlocking her at night, but in the event of a possible emergency where he couldn’t get to her in time, had decided against it. The collar and chain were symbols of her servitude, nothing more.
“You may use the bathroom and freshen up. You’ll find razors and baby oil and whatever else you need in the drawers under the sink. I expect you to groom daily, though I imagine with your level of training, that goes without saying.” He rose again to his feet. “Meet me down in the kitchen. We’ll go over duties and expectations, and then get the day started.”
“Yes, Sir,” she replied.
Down in the kitchen, Ronan put on the coffee and pulled out some frozen sweet rolls already on an oven-ready tray. The kitchen had French doors that opened onto a patio overlooking the beach. Coffee mug in hand, he stepped outside to enjoy the air and the view while he waited for his slave to appear.
He was lost in a daydream, lulled by the movement of the ocean, when he heard, “Good morning, Sir.” He looked back to see Hailey, naked save for the slave collar around her neck. Her hair was wet, her face free of makeup. There were still faint welts visible on her breasts and thighs.
“Come out here and let me look at you,” Ronan said. She stepped out with a glance toward the beach. Though she was too well trained to voice any concern, Ronan offered, “Don’t worry, there’s nobody out there. This beach is private. It’s just us, the dolphins and the gulls.” As if to emphasize the point, a white gull wheeled nearby, its beak looking as if it had been dipped in black paint. Ronan waved his hand in its direction. “Get out of here,” he called with a laugh. “Nothing to eat, you old scavenger.”
The bird flew away with a caw of disappointment. Ronan turned back to his girl. She was already standing at attention, hands behind her head. Excellent. “Turn around so I can see your back and ass,” he directed. Hailey pirouetted slowly. There were more welts, thinner but darker than the ones on her front. The two cuts to the skin had scabbed a little, but weren’t deep. There was some bruising on her ass.
The awareness that he had done that to her made his cock hard. The knowledge he could do whatever he wanted to her, and she would not only submit, but craved what he could give her, made him harder still. Images of Hailey, naked and bound on the sand, floated into his mind’s eye. He would add to those welts and bruises until she begged for mercy. There was no one and nothing to stop him.
The ding of the oven timer brought him back to reality. He pushed back from the table and rose to his feet. Grabbing his mug, he said, “Let’s get some breakfast and discuss logistics.”
Hailey followed him inside. He turned off the timer and pulled open the oven door. He took out the rolls, inhaling the warm, yeasty scent of Bella’s homemade peach sweet rolls. Placing the cookie sheet on the stove, he reached for a second mug and turned to Hailey. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please, Sir.”
He poured her a cup and handed it to her. “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing toward a barstool. “Cream and sugar are right there.” She took her cup and settled herself gingerly on the edge of the leather stool. Ronan transferred the sweet rolls to a plate, refreshed his coffee, and moved with the plate and mug around the counter to sit beside Hailey.
“After this morning,” he said, sliding a roll onto a smaller plate and placing it in front of Hailey, “I will expect you to be down
stairs before me. You will wake with the sun, as you did today, and you will shower, groom yourself and come directly to the kitchen to make coffee. You are free to enjoy a cup inside or outside until I come down. I’m usually up a little later than this, but not much.”
He took a bite of the roll, washed it down with a sip of coffee, and continued, “I gave my chef and cleaning staff the week off to give us time to get acquainted without distraction.” He smiled. “During this week, I will expect you to take over basic cleaning and food prep duties. I’ll show you where everything is after breakfast, and what I require.” He couldn’t hide the smile of anticipation as he said this. He really didn’t give a damn if the sheets were fresh or the floor swept, but he’d always enjoyed the fantasy of a sexy maid dressed only in high heels and a little frilly skirt, ankles hobbled with a slave chain, on her knees scrubbing the floor with a toothbrush.
“I will inspect your work, and of course you will be punished if things aren’t to my liking. Before we get started, I’ll show you your uniform.” He grinned with anticipation.
He took another sip of coffee. Hailey hadn’t touched the roll on her plate. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“I am, Sir. Thank you.” She picked up the roll and took a bite. “It’s delicious, Sir.”
“Bella’s a fabulous cook. Do you cook?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” He nodded and patted his stomach with a grin. “I like to eat.”
She smiled. “Permission to speak, Sir?”
“Of course.”
“I practice yoga. I find it very relaxing and helpful to do my exercises early in the morning, Sir, usually before I do anything else. Would that be a problem, Sir? I brought my yoga mat and I could do it in my room, or—”
“Oh, shit!” Ronan interrupted, slapping his forehead. “I knew that! I read it in your portfolio.” He jumped up from his stool. “I have a surprise for you. Come outside. I’ll show you.”
He walked quickly through the house to the back veranda and pulled open the doors. Hailey followed him outside and he pointed to the structure he’d made just for her.
Beyond the Compound: The Compound Trilogy - Book 2 Page 6