She crossed the room to him, but when she didn’t immediately assume the slave position in front of him, he hardened his voice and his stance and said, “Greet your Master, sub. Strip and assume the position.”
She looked momentarily uncertain and embarrassed by her failure to enter the dungeon in scene, but her gaze still challenged him, and she hadn’t dropped to her knees. She slowly began to unlace the bustier as she looked into his eyes.
“You forget yourself, sub. Lower your eyes and assume the position.” Morgan saw her hesitate for a moment. Good. She realizes her mistake and is attempting to correct it. When her full, round breasts spilled out of the open bustier, he almost lost it. He forced himself to remain in scene while she removed her skirt and shoes. When she was finally naked, she dropped into the slave position at his feet with her head bowed.
“Good evening, Master. I hope I please you.”
“You please me very much, Harper, but you know your insubordination will have to be corrected.” She did, indeed, please him. Her ivory perfection was stunning. He couldn’t bring himself to call her “sub” at this moment. It was too dehumanizing for what he was attempting to accomplish. He needed to subdue her, but he wanted her to feel safe enough to voluntarily give over control to him so that he could lift the burden of her childhood from her shoulders, even if only for a few moments. Hopefully she could then gain the strength to overcome it, to push it aside and go forward.
He spread her thighs, widening her legs until he was satisfied with her position. He stood watching her. “Put on your wrist and ankle cuffs. I’ll fasten them to the chains.” When she had risen and reluctantly complied, he quickly checked the wrist cuffs for fit and secured them to the chains hanging from the ceiling. He adjusted the length until she was standing on her toes and fastened the ankle cuffs to bolts in the floor that kept her legs spread. She was vulnerable and totally open to him. She looked a little nervous, but that was only to be expected. He ran his hands over her arms and legs, gently massaging the muscles while he looked into her eyes. He could see the fear there. “Harper, it’s okay. You’re going to be fine. Just relax and let me take over.”
Morgan walked over to the wall of implements. He was looking for just the right thing. He wanted her to feel the sting of this correction, but he didn’t want it to be too harsh. The point was to help her reach the threshold of submission and to cross over. He wanted to teach her to reach for her own pleasure. He could feel her eyes following him. Then he saw what he was looking for—a soft suede flogger. He picked it up and ran the strands through his hands to test them as her eyes took in every move he made. He walked back to where she was restrained.
“Harper, do you know why you are being punished?”
“Yes, Master, for my insubordination and refusal to submit.”
“That’s right. And why does your Master want you to submit? Why is it important to him?”
“Because he wants to help me overcome my inhibitions.”
“Not only your inhibitions, but the pain of the childhood that continues to haunt you. It’s holding you back.” He walked in front of her so she could see the flogger he held in his hands up close and personal. When her eyes widened, he slowly ran the soft strands over her breasts and belly as he prepared her body and mind for the coming ordeal. Then he walked behind her and ran them over her back and butt. She flinched. Good. I need to ramp up her anxiety level.
“Master….”
“Silence, Sub. You knew you were earning this correction with your attitude when you came into the dungeon. I am the Master, and you are the sub. You will acknowledge that, but first you will reap your punishment. You will receive ten strikes, and you will count for your Master. If you don’t count, we will go back to number one and start again. Understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, Master. Please punish this disobedient sub.”
Morgan brought the flogger down on her butt. The strike was not hard. He put just enough body English behind the stroke to give it a slight sting. He waited for her to count. When she didn’t, he said, “Sub, count for your Master. We will begin again.” He brought the suede strips down across her butt again, this time with a little more force.
“One, Master.” He could see the worry in her eyes.
“Better, sub.” He continued the delivery, varying the intensity of the strikes so she would not know what to expect with each one. Would it be hard and stinging, or soft with only a slight bite? She didn’t make the mistake of failing to count again. He had made his point early by refusing to count the first blow.
When he had delivered five strokes, he came in close behind her and ran his hands down over her back and butt, gently massaging the tense muscles. He whispered, “Relax your muscles, Harper, and just go with it. Let the pain of this punishment replace the pain from your childhood. Let the hurt inflicted on you by your grandfather flow out of your mind and heart, and the warmth of this correction delivered by your loving Master flow in.”
He slid his hand down between her pink butt cheeks and tested her pussy. It was damp, but not drenched. He played with the pussy lips that were spread wide open by her stance. He avoided her clit as he let the anticipation build. “Five more strokes, Harper.” She tried to back up toward him to gain more contact with his probing fingers and possibly distract him from her punishment, but he wouldn’t allow it.
He wasn’t sure he was getting through to her, so he continued with another light stroke and then another harder one. When he reached ten, her head had fallen forward, and he couldn’t see her face. “Sub?”
“Ten, Master. Thank you, Master.” She was still enough in the moment to be aware of the count, but her voice was wispy. He thought she might have gone under into subspace, almost to a hypnotic state. It was what he was hoping for.
“What are you feeling, Harper?” He moved close behind her again and put his arms around her, supporting her weight. She was at her most vulnerable now, and he wanted to take advantage of it.
“Feeling warm, Master.”
“What else, Harper? Are you ready to submit to your Master? Let me take over the burden?”
“I can’t, Master.” She leaned her head back against his chest.
“Yes you can, Harper. Let me take it on for a while. You just lean back against me and absorb my strength. The past, your grandparents, have no more power over you, because you’re making the conscious decision to give it up to me.”
He continued to play with her pussy, and slowly her cream began to flow. She rubbed her bottom against his hard-on and moaned. If this was just about the sex, he might have given up then and entered her, but he wanted more.
“Who is your Master, Harper? Who holds the strings to your heart?”
“You do, Master.”
“Then why won’t you give me what I want, Harper? You know I want your complete submission. You know I want you to acknowledge that I hold the power and not your grandfather. He didn’t deserve your submission. You have to let go of the guilt you continue to feel. You were not a dirty girl, and none of it was your fault. You were not the guilty party, Harper. That mean old man was the guilty party. Give it up to me.”
“He hurt me, Master. Over and over again.”
“But he can’t hurt you anymore unless you let him. Give it up, Harper. Give it to me.”
Finally, she rested her full weight back into his arms. “Yes, Master. You can take the pain and the guilt. I don’t want it anymore.”
Morgan reached down and kissed her neck. “Good girl. Let me take it on for a while. You just rest in my arms.”
Morgan continued to hold her, infusing her with his warmth and strength. He tried to absorb the guilt and pain of the little girl while he knew he was falling in love with the woman. “I’m going to love you now, Harper.”
“Fill me up, Morgan. Take the old pain and cold away.”
Morgan held her against his chest, and his rock-hard shaft butted
up against her round, warm bottom. He opened the buttons on the front of his leathers, and his cock sprang free. He entered her from behind, and her hot, wet heat surrounded him. Her silky skin caressed his belly as he plunged balls-deep into her tight passage. She stretched to accommodate his thickness, and he began to thrust. Ah, this feels like heaven. It’s home. It’s everything. Where did that thought come from? When did I start to think of Harper as belonging solely to me? When did her body become the epitome of home? He slowly increased the depth and pace of his strokes, and his cock pumped into her hot and hard. He filled her until they were both rapidly climbing the mountain toward completion. The scent of her desire rose, enveloped him, and he soared over the peak. She convulsed with pleasure and followed him over the top.
* * * *
In that moment, Harper felt feminine. She felt the awesome power of her femininity for the first time. That was one of the things, besides her innocence, her grandfather had stolen from her. She was ready to take it back. With Morgan’s help, she had taken it back. Morgan had given her a gift she had never had before. At that moment she fell deeply and irrevocably in love. Harper wished she was looking into Morgan’s black fathomless eyes. She wanted to see if the moment had been as earth-shattering for him as it had for her.
As he continued to pound into her, she rode his cock and arched her back. She closed around him, kneading his thick and demanding cock with her tight feminine muscles. She pushed her breasts into his strong hands as he filled the void in her soul. His steely length pumped into her until she was breathless. He stroked her G-spot and took her over the top to another shattering completion. She felt his ecstasy shudder through him as he followed her over.
Harper was glad she hadn’t been able to just give in and submit. Her whole identity as a woman and a Domme had depended on giving him a good fight. But having the weight of those childhood years lifted felt good, even if only for a short while. Morgan had been right. She could let him shoulder the burden for a while. The punishment had allowed her to release her emotions and the hurt that had been her companion for years. The tracks of her tears were cleansing. She and Morgan had a way to go yet, but it was a beginning, a very strong beginning. She felt she was dropping the guilt—a guilt she didn’t deserve—and moving away from the pain. She realized that if she had given her submission easily, it wouldn’t have been a worthy gift. She had had to dig deep for it to be meaningful.
“Thank you, Master. You make me strong. You give me faith in myself.”
Chapter Seventeen
Saguenay Fjord, Canada, on the St. Lawrence River, November 18, 2013—Monday Morning, Day Nine of the Cruise
Morgan had carried Harper down to the Riva for the return trip to the ship. He had carefully wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and sheltered her from the wind as best he could. He wanted to talk about his feelings and probe hers as well, but he knew she needed the quiet time to process what had happened in her own mind. He thought they had had a breakthrough, and he didn’t want to spoil it.
“Baby, we’re just going back to the suite. I think we both need a good night’s sleep, and then we’ll talk about what happened. Okay?”
He felt her nod her head against his shoulder. She cuddled into his chest as though it was a shelter from her emotional storm. He certainly hoped it was.
* * * *
The next morning Morgan and Harper had an early breakfast on the deck of the master suite. They were looking for the whales and seals, for which the area was known. The river was surrounded by mountains, rocky walls, and a high plateau. The coming winter was evident as they navigated up the Saguenay River through Saguenay Fjord and continued toward the town of Saguenay and Lac Saint-Jean.
“We’re going to pass Sainte-Rose-du-Nord, said to be the most beautiful village in Québec according to my guidebook.” Morgan knew Harper enjoyed following the route in the guidebook and sharing the information with him.
The river wound through the fifteen-hundred-foot-high granite cliffs, and the wide river vista was magnificent. This was some of the most beautiful scenery they had seen on the cruise so far.
“So, what do you think about last night?” Morgan couldn’t contain his curiosity a moment longer. Harper had not said a word about their scene. “I think you finally gave in to your Master.”
“I did not give in. I merely changed my mind.” She grinned at him, and he had to laugh back. “Isn’t that a woman’s prerogative?”
“Well, that’s not how I remember it, but I’ll take what I can get.” Morgan shook his head in amazement. Leave it to the attorney to put a different spin on the situation. He wasn’t going to argue if it got him where he wanted to be, which was permanently in Harper’s arms—a Harper who was freed from some of the heavy weight she had been carrying.
“Seriously, do you feel better about the whole experience, or do you still have doubts?”
“Morgan, I think I still have a long way to go to leave my past behind, but I definitely feel I’ve made a start on the journey. I have to admit you really did help me to move beyond some of it, and I feel a crack in my façade that wasn’t there before.”
“But will you want to scene with me as your Master again? You know I’ll do anything I can to help, baby.” He held his breath. He was anxious to know her answer, but afraid of what it would be at the same time. He knew that she had been wrung out last night and that their scene had been emotionally draining for her.
“We’ll see. I still have some thinking to do. It’s not every day a girl gets a new Master.”
It took him a minute to realize what she had said, and then he broke out into a wide grin.
* * * *
Harper thought that men were so transparent. She could see that Morgan was plainly delighted to have her call him Master. She wasn’t ready to talk about her other feelings yet, the ones that curled tight around her heart and squeezed.
* * * *
Harmon Burke was on the hot seat. He had made it back to the city the night before and was now sitting in Maurie Cullen’s disgusting office at the World Tipster, or World Shit Rag, as he liked to think of it.
“Burke, you asshole. You say you got pictures of Court and Cameron in a kinky sex dungeon, but you lost them? Why didn’t you forward them to me as soon as you had ’em?”
Harmon stuttered. He didn’t want to tell Maurie he hadn’t trusted him or the paper, and that he wanted to keep the windfall for himself. “They weren’t very clear, and he was wearing a mask. It was dark in there. I was hoping to get something better, and then I got caught.”
“That’s another thing. How the hell could you be so careless as to get caught? A stowaway aboard a foreign vessel in international waters, without a passport. You’re lucky they didn’t throw your ass overboard. And then I had to go to the publisher with that confidentiality agreement to keep your ass out of jail.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I want to keep digging on Morgan Court. Now that we know there’s definitely something there, I don’t want to give up.”
“Well, the confidentiality agreement ties our hands on anything to do with that ship. I checked it out, and the outfit that owns the boat, Devereau Shipping, has the clout to sink us if they decide to pursue litigation over a breach of the confidentiality agreement. Most plaintiffs don’t have the money to keep up a fight and fund the discovery needed to prove a case. These people apparently have very deep pockets and aren’t afraid to reach into them. And we’re all on the hook personally as well as corporately. Do you think you can dig something up here that doesn’t involve Devereau Shipping? You didn’t get anything on Court before he left on that trip. He’s a cagey bastard.”
“I’m gonna be on his ass like glue when he gets back to town. That’s for sure. I was this fucking close.” He pinched his thumb and forefinger together. “It burns my ass.”
“I’ll burn your ass, and you’ll be out of here if you don’t come up with something. And quick. You made me look bad with the brass, Burke, and I’m n
ot gonna forget it. This is your last chance. One more fuck up and you’ll be gone.”
Chapter Eighteen
Québec City, Canada, on the St. Lawrence River, November 19, 2013—Tuesday Morning, Day Ten of the Cruise
The ship had docked in the Bassin Louise waterfront area of the Port of Québec at eight o’clock and would be departing again at seven o’clock that evening. Harper looked up from her guidebook as Morgan poured her another cup of coffee. It was a little cold to enjoy breakfast on the deck, but they were anxious to see all that they could. “It says here that Québec City, or Ville de Québec, is one of the oldest European settlements in North America, and the ramparts surrounding the old city, or Vieux-Québec, are the only remaining fortified walls that still exist in North America. It was founded in 1608 by Samuel de Champlain, a French explorer, at the site of an abandoned Iroquoian settlement called Stadacona. The historic district of Old Québec was named a World Heritage Site by UNESCO in 1985.”
“I’m looking forward to exploring. There are a lot of great things to see. Let’s get an early start.” The view of the St. Lawrence River and the Laurentian Mountains before they pulled into port had been spectacular.
The ship was docked along the wharf with a stunning view overlooking the city. Harper and Morgan, along with most of the other passengers, debarked at the first opportunity, and Harper noticed that security at the gangplank had been increased since the Harmon Burke incident.
Harper's Submission [Golden Dolphin 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 9