He nodded, keeping the door open for a moment with his foot. It seemed to be weighted to close automatically. She was curious, but all she could see was that the stairs went down steeply to a dark room. “I draw a line between people who are in the scene and who aren’t. I could take you to a bondage club and fuck you silly and do anything I’d do to you here. But I’d never expose you on a city street. So yes, the cop was different, and if Roger hadn’t said the police were going to stay on the cove, I’d not have gone as far with you as I did.”
“You could, if you wanted to,” she said, because she liked telling him that. She was glad he didn’t want to.
“I was tempted. She knew who we were and what sort of things go on here—she’d quizzed me enough about that. And she’d told Roger we’d be left alone, or someone did.”
“I trusted you to make the decision.” It surprised her how much of a relief it was to be able to say that.
“I will keep you safe whether you want to take risks or not, when I’m in control.”
“Life can’t be lived completely without risks. Sometimes my career takes me to odd places.”
“Then I want to be with you to help you deal with those risks,” he said.
The idea of having him along made her smile.
He reached in to flick on a light and walked downstairs. “Follow me.”
She felt pulled as strongly as if she were wearing a collar and he were holding a leash. The image filled her mind. “Sir?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think you’d want to put a collar on me? Like Natalie has?”
He didn’t answer right away, but she was distracted anyway. She took in the wooden cross with cuffs hanging from rings where Kyle could bind her wrists and ankles, and imagined herself spread out on it. She thought of how he could bind her on the table or spank her while she knelt on the spanking bench. The bench was constructed in such a way that if she knelt on it the way she thought she was supposed to, a ridge of leather would press against her pussy. It reminded her of how she’d been rubbing against Kyle’s cock.
She wondered how the things on the wall would feel. She’d felt a flogger and a crop, but there were other things there—something that looked like a crop but with an extension on it like a whip; a flogger with knots in it; a small metal bucket full of canes; a single-tailed whip, coiled and looking as dangerous as a snake.
What have I gotten myself into?
And why do I want to feel them all and find out? She took a step forward into the room.
“Natalie’s collar is more than a sexy accessory, pet,” Kyle said as he moved behind her. His strong arms wrapped around her waist, his forearms brushing against the lower swell of her breasts. “It’s a symbol of commitment that he takes as seriously as the engagement ring on her finger. A sign that she belongs to him, heart and soul, and that he loves her and will do whatever it takes to protect her. They have a discreet one for public wear, I believe, that most people would take for a necklace, but she never goes anywhere without wearing one.”
She hadn’t thought of it that way. But as he described it, she knew she wanted exactly that kind of relationship. “I had a vision of myself on a leash.”
“A collar is good for that too,” Kyle said. “But I’d rather save it for the other meaning, because I think I would like to collar you, Teresa. Let’s give it a little more time.”
She turned in his grasp. “So sex doesn’t have to wait for any commitment, but tugging me on a leash we’re saving? You—we’re very strange.”
“I don’t think I could love a woman who wasn’t a bit strange. And I know that right now. I love you.”
She smiled and pressed against him. “I love you too. I hope—” She stopped.
“You hope what?” he prompted.
“I hope that’s not going to stop you from doing the things you—you know—” She glanced over at the wall with all the crops and whips and floggers.
“From giving you pain?”
“You never say hurting me,” she said. “Always—giving pain.”
“If I thought it hurt you, I wouldn’t do it. Hurting involves more than just the body. But I’m going to keep doing those things to you.” He took her hand and walked her over to the wall. “Come help me make a selection. Don’t say a word. Touch each one and think about how you think it might feel.”
She pulled a cane out that had a rubber handle, and then put it back. Ouch. Maybe someday. She ran her hands through the tresses of a flogger, not unlike the one he’d used on her before. Too gentle.
She touched them all but she was drawn to the flogger with the knots. Part of it was that it was made of such a lovely glossy purple leather. When she felt it, the knots were harder than she expected, and that made her pull back but it excited her too. She wasn’t sure she wanted him using it, and when she realized she was lingering, she touched the flogger next to it. It was heavier than the one she had felt before, but still very much in the same vein. She looked back at him, wondering what he’d noticed.
He picked up the flogger she’d decided would be too light.
Well, he’s not a mind reader. She started to open her mouth. He’d been so gentle the night before and she felt she needed to make it clear that wasn’t what she needed or wanted from him. At least not all the time.
Picking up the flogger with the knots, he held it together with the other in the same hand. She closed her mouth, her heart hammering. He was going to whip her with that—thing. And she wasn’t going to stop him.
He reached for her, taking her wrist rather than her hand. “This way, Teresa.” He pulled her toward the cross. She pulled back instinctively and then stopped.
He smiled at her. “You want to resist? You may. You remember your safe word, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me what it is.”
“It’s pineapple, Sir.”
“Good girl.” He yanked her up close to him and cupped her ass, although his hand had two floggers in it so it felt odd. “We both know then that no matter how much you struggle you want me to win.”
She pulled away from him. He tossed the floggers on top of the padded table and then yanked her back, then moved his hand from her wrist to her ass. This time his free hand found her hair. He pulled and moved his lips close to hers. She could feel his breath hot on her face. She knew he could feel her heart beating hard against his chest as her breasts squished against him. “Don’t we?” he asked.
“Yes Sir.”
He pulled her hair harder, until it hurt. “And the more you struggle, the rougher it’s going to be.”
“Yes please.”
His fingers dug into her ass. “That’s my girl.” He pulled her toward the cross again, and she didn’t dare resist much with the grip he had on her hair. Still, she made him move her stumbling, rather than walking, and tried to stop him from binding her face-front to the cross once he got there. He leaned against her and his weight bore her down so she couldn’t get free, even when he had one hand on her wrist and the other was busy with the buckle on the cuff. Once he had one wrist attached, it was hopeless.
His cock pressed hard against her back. This isn’t just about me. This is turning him on.
He got both wrists attached and bent down to attach her ankles. She managed to get a kick in and felt an odd mixture of pride and regret. She didn’t want to kick him in the face, but she was glad she got a lick in. He jerked her ankle back in place and bound it fast. Within a few seconds she couldn’t move either foot other than to twitch. She couldn’t quite reach her heel to the ground either, which made her feel even more vulnerable.
He slid his hand between her legs and probed her wet pussy. She couldn’t do anything to stop him. “You were close, weren’t you?”
Bastard. “Yes, you know I was, Sir.”
“I like that.” He wrapped an arm halfway around her waist, pulling her from the cross a few inches, and then slid his hand across her mound until his finger reached her cl
it. Probing from behind, stroking from the front, he soon had her as aroused as she’d been on the chair. Her breathing got louder. That and the motions of his fingers made the only sound.
Then both hands were gone and he slapped her ass hard enough to sting.
“Close,” he said, “but not over. Not yet.”
She growled but said nothing. She couldn’t think of anything she could say she wouldn’t get in trouble for. He knew how close she was.
He flicked a flogger against her backside and she knew it was the one without the knots without looking. “You need a warm-up before you can take the one you want,” he told her. “Trust me.”
“I do.” And she did. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the thudding pressure of the flogger. He alternated between her butt and her back, gradually making her feel warmer wherever it touched. Her pussy already felt warm and wet.
“The braided cat will bruise you, Teresa. When you walk outside after, everyone will be able to see the marks on your ass. Natalie might wince at the thought of what put them there. But everyone will know that I put them there, and that you took them for me. And when you sit down, you’ll wonder why you did.”
“I think I’ll know why, Sir.”
“Why?”
“Because it turns both of us on.”
“Simple, isn’t it?”
“Yes Sir.”
There was only a brief pause, and then something heavy struck her back. The other flogger. He hadn’t swung it with nearly the force, but it still stung in spots. There were too many spots to sort it out, to say this part hurt and this part didn’t. He flung it against her back again and she pressed up against the frame in reaction, and then rolled her shoulders back for another.
Soon she felt like as though she was dancing, undulating in response to the flogger as it hurt, then receded to the point she wanted the hurt again. He wasn’t swinging it at anything close to full power, she knew, but that didn’t change the fact that her body was under his power. It stung but she didn’t think he was leaving a mark either, despite his earlier statement. The more he flogged her, the more she wanted to be marked as his. She felt a haze coming over her, and this time she tried to fight it back. Even though the experience of pain sending her flying was pleasurable, she had the sense that there was more to feel, and she didn’t want to miss it.
The flogging stopped. He put his hand on her back and it felt cool. Or maybe her back was that feverish. Both were believable.
“Now, Teresa, I mark you.”
Uh-oh. “Yes Sir,” she said, even though didn’t feel horribly verbal.
The flogger came around suddenly on her ass, a sideways blow. Each knot felt like a nail for a moment, sending bright stinging pain. She screamed, and the sharpness of it faded but not the pain. She pressed up against the frame, but that didn’t make it go away. His hand still on her back, she felt him move from the left of her to the right. He was going to strike her again. Hell, he was going to do it as often as he wanted. Pineapple. But she didn’t say it. Instead, slowly, she pushed her ass back.
Knowing what to expect didn’t stop her from making noise. She cried out, but felt a drugged rush as the endorphins kicked in. He swung the flogger again, but it felt lighter. Maybe it was. Maybe she didn’t care anymore. Each time it touched her, the same places seemed to ache all over again. He moved and swung again and again until she lost count and it all blurred together in one delicious rush. She knew he was right, that it would all hurt later. Right now it was heaven.
His hand left her back and stroked her pussy instead. The flogger dropped to the floor, replaced by a hand spanking her on the lower part of her bottom, compressing the tender flesh and confusing her about where it hurt. His fingers entered her easily, almost without friction, but she could feel him stretching her. A wave of pleasure rippled through her, as if hinting at what was to come.
He moved his hand around to finger her clit, much as he had before he started flogging her. He pressed against her backside, his cock hard, but this time it hurt, pushing into soft, bruised flesh. The frame was unyielding on the other side. What if he rubbed himself against me, like I was against him, getting himself off by moving against my bruises. My pain for his pleasure. I would take that.
The pain felt so good, it didn’t even seem as though it would be a sacrifice. But if it was, she was sure she’d do it. She rocked up against him, trying to feel all he had done to her. Her pussy ached. Each stroke of his finger on her clit wound her tighter and tighter, as if she were a toy that he would sometimes let go to spasm across the room.
His toy.
“Now, pet,” he whispered, and then kissed her neck softly. He thrust his fingers inside her once more, and wiggled another on her clit, and the tension inside her released explosively. Her pussy clenched around his hand and her limbs jerked, but they couldn’t go anywhere because the cuffs held her fast to the frame. He held her against it too, and it seemed as if all the energy that might go elsewhere stayed somehow between her legs. She pulsed around his fingers over and over, feeling as if it were going on forever.
For a few long minutes he held her and she caught her breath. He slid his hands between her and the frame, placing one on her tummy and cupping a breast with the other. She felt as if she were floating, but some bit of consciousness tugged at her. “What about your pleasure, Sir?”
“If I fuck you like this, it will hurt,” he said softly.
She twisted to look at him. “I could suck you off. Or bring you off with my hands, and you could mark me as your territory a different way. Did you leave a mark this time, Master?”
“Yes. Several.” He kissed her neck lightly. “You never called me that before, pet.”
“It’s not like I haven’t thought it.”
“I will take you up on those offers sometime—but now, right now, I’m going to fuck you. Not in spite of the fact that it will give you pain, but because of it. Because I’m your Master, and I’ll take you as I want, when I want.”
Smiling, she closed her eyes again. “Yes, Master.”
He shucked off his shorts and slid his sheathed cock into her a moment later. He grabbed her hips and pulled her to him. She grabbed the edge of the frame tightly. He was right. Each time he thrust forward, he slapped against her ass and it stung. The haze had faded and she felt she could, if her hands had been free, point a finger to each and every bruise on her backside.
He slid in slowly a couple of times, and out, and back in. Then he leaned forward and whispered fiercely, “Mine.”
There wasn’t time to say “yours” back before he thrust in hard, pressing her against the frame. And again, and again. Each time her bottom yelped, but with each thrust she could hear his breathing quicken and grow more uneven. She felt him swell inside her. This wasn’t about her pleasure or even her pain. It was about him. She gave him a squeeze and rocked in time with him. He thrust in her violently again, driving in deep, and a wave of pleasure rippled through her as he erupted inside her.
He pulsed inside her and then held her. She wished she could hold him back, but he could arrange that if he wanted to. Strange, to find it was better having it be his decision than to get what she wanted. In a minute he unstrapped her and she had her wish anyway. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders while he carried her toward a chair in the corner. Soft and comfy and brown, it had hardly registered when she scanned the room before. Now it was perfect because she could be there and be in his arms at the same time. They kissed each other long and deep.
Then they cuddled. She found a way to sit that didn’t put pressure on her bottom. I can get a kick out of feeling the marks some other time. Right now she was happy where she was. He seemed to be too, from the soft smile on his face and the way he held her, unmoving. We must be right. I think we are just right for each other.
In a few more minutes, she realized he was asleep. She knew how precious that was for him to feel that relaxed around her. She laid her head on his chest and closed her ey
es.
Sleep well, Master.
Epilogue
A week later
“You’re going where?” asked Tom.
“Berlin,” repeated Kyle.
The four men sat around the dining room table enjoying generous helpings of ham and eggs fixed by Carter. Kyle wasn’t sure what Natalie and Teresa were up to, but if they didn’t come down soon their food would be cold.
“Teresa has to go to Berlin to look for places to shoot a movie. They want East Berlin neighborhoods that still look the way they did before the wall came down. Apparently there are places where you can still see damage on the buildings from World War II. But for the most part the better neighborhoods have been renovated, so Teresa’s going to be slumming. I’m her bodyguard.”
“Sounds like you’re hooked,” said Carter. “When’s the last time you left the island?”
“Just a month ago, to visit my sister Kimberley in Sydney.”
“Okay, okay. Other than to visit your sisters or to get food from Cairns.”
Kyle shrugged. Maybe it had been a couple of years. He liked being alone or with his friends. And now he liked being alone with Teresa. He wasn’t going to apologize for his preferences just because Carter was an extrovert. “The thing is, I’m doing it now. We leave tomorrow.”
“Do you think you’ll be available for our next Submission Island retreat in October?” asked Roger. Everyone turned to look at him.
That was a month away. Submissive women signed up for the retreats for a week or two of domination and sex—no strings attached. For three years now the four single Doms had run the resort as much for enjoyment as for profit. In fact, they probably lost money on the deal. It had been a blast, the part of his life he’d looked forward to most. But he knew what Roger was asking—was he free to dominate another woman?
“No,” he said, and was surprised at how satisfying it was to give the answer. “I don’t think I’ll be doing that.”
He expected Roger to be annoyed, but Roger gave a slight smile, adding to his suspicion that Roger had set up the whole thing from the start. Kyle supposed he wasn’t going to be complaining. Carter grinned. Even Tom didn’t look too upset, although he was clearly annoyed.
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