by Palmer, Dee
“Are you happy with the choices you have made Lola?” His deep voice brings me back from my assessment of the interior design of his bedroom.
“I don’t have choices, Sir.” I snort.
“Really? Alright. Are you happy with the decisions you have made?” Whether he is referring to saving my family or coming here tonight the answer is the same.
“Yes Sir.”
“Very well, what we are going to do tonight.” He clears his throat, his voice is deep and raspy. “What I am going to do to you tonight, was always inevitable with us. It’s just that your decisions have made tonight more of a ‘baptism of fire’ as it were; rather than a more gentle introduction which would have been the case had you behaved differently.” He is standing directly behind me gently scraping his finger nail up my arm, tracing a line all the way up my neck and then down my spine to the top of my corset. A trail of sparks follow his touch. It is very distracting as I try to understand what he is saying.
I think I understand from my limited research that a Dominant/ submissive relationship would involve whatever he has planned, he’s a Dom, he does what he wants. I clench at the thought and I can feel the liquid heat at my core building, my pulse is racing. I am so fucking turned on right now. But he is saying he would’ve taken it slow and now that is no longer an option. I didn’t have a choice in this; there wasn’t a choice with the decisions I made, it wasn’t him or them. It was them. He doesn’t love me; he thinks I’m a liar and a cheat who gave up on her family. I am angry, in love and in pain and he has promised to help. I hurt him and he needs something from me and I think this is it. If he thinks his ‘baptism of fire’ speech is going to have me running for the hills or crying out my safe word every five minutes, he doesn’t know me at all. He may hear me cry out but he won’t hear my safe word, not tonight.
He walks to the bag and removes some more cuffs, he then returns to face me and he takes one of my hands. “I had these made for you, the leather is very soft, like your skin, it will constrict you but it won’t hurt.” He fastens the cuffs on each of my wrists before kneeling and doing the same with cuffs on my ankles. He stands and places his large hand around my neck, his hold is firm. “Your pulse is racing. Do you trust me?”
“Yes Sir.” My response is an exhaling breath. I must stop holding my breath or with my blood rushing around my body at this pace I am likely to pass out. He takes my hand and leads me to the bed where he sits in front of me. He pulls me roughly across his lap, my hands reach to the floor and my feet are on tip toes. I can feel his arousal, hot through the material of his trousers hard against my side. He holds me with one arm across my back; his hand on my hip, his other hand pulls my panties down over my bottom to my knees. I feel more exposed than if I was completely naked, certainly more vulnerable. He rubs his hand in circles smoothing the skin creating a gentle heat and I feel a deep rumble vibrate through his chest. My head shoots up with a cry at the first strike.
“This is your warm up Lola, this will help you prepare for your punishment.” He warns.
“I’m being punished?” I whisper.
“Ask me another question Lola?” His voice is husky and I can hear his grin. “Please, ask me another question?” Three hard rapid strikes follow his words and I grip my lips together to prevent another question. He rubs his hand alleviating the sting but the heat generated is intense. I can’t get enough purchase from my toes to move at all. I can’t wiggle or dip away with his strong arm holding me in place. He continues a steady relentless rhythm of spank stroke spank. My head is dizzy and my butt is on fire but then he moves lower and strikes his palm against the sensitive skin below my bottom on the very tops of my thighs. I scream out, fuck that hurts. I squeeze my eyes tight and all I can see is the colour blue, bright blue and bright blue piercing eyes staring in to my soul but I grit my teeth and focus on the pain. I alternate panting and grinding my teeth but the individual strikes no longer register, just a burning stinging sensation that I happen to know has me dripping wet.
“You have no choice Lola? Why is that?” He growls his question.
“I have no choice, Sir.” My only response.
He helps me to stand and I have a momentary head rush where my eyes are glazed and I am light headed. He stands and leads me over to the bench. I am still a little dazed when he pushes me over to lay my tummy flat with my bottom over the end. He clips the cuff on my wrists to the chains stretching my arms over the other end. He stands behind me and pulls my panties all the way off my legs before he clips the ankle cuffs to the chains at the bottom. My legs are spread, not wide but I am again exposed, he runs his hands up my legs and over my burning backside. His hands aren’t rough but they feel like sandpaper against my now raw and ultra-sensitive skin and I can’t help but tremble. I have an urgency and desperate need for release. I know if he was to touch me, even slightly, I would come. I am so on edge, I don’t feel any of the pain in my chest and I don’t feel any of the pain from my spanking, I am just alive with sensation.
“You know you glow for me, when you’re aroused, when you’re wet.” He swipes his finger along the length of my sensitive folds and lightly touches my clit. I buck and jerk, instantly consumed with uncontrollable spasms sweeping my body. A violent explosion takes me completely by surprise with its speed and intensity and leaves me panting for air. He tries to suppress his groan releasing a sexy primal noise from the back of his throat. “Mmmm,” I hear him lick his finger. He moves back and again reaches into the bag. I can’t see what he has retrieved but I don’t have to guess because he walks slowly around the bench to where my head is facing and carefully traces the tip of the riding crop down my cheek and across my moist lips. His fingers follow the crop and tuck the stray hair that has fallen across my face behind my ears. “Look at me.” He demands quietly. I obey instantly, I can’t deny the way my body responds to him, I love this feeling of giving him total control and now I can see his eyes, I love that this clearly pleases him too. “You have a safe word for a reason.” He clears his throat. “Understand?”
I catch a glimpse of the strained outline of his erection in his trousers and I am pleased he is as affected as I am, and although I have had my release, my body is clearly building again and I try to press in to the bench for some friction. He very lightly taps my bottom at this movement and I still. “Yes sir, I understand.” My anticipation has my voice on edge.
“Tell me Lola, why is it you have no choice?” His repeated question makes me angry so he gets the same answer.
“I have no choice, Sir.” I snarl my response.
“Mmm lying and impolite, let’s see how that works out for you and let’s see how long it will be before you safe word on me, shall we?” He sounds so fucking smug. He stands to the side and strokes my bottom with the length of the crop, I clench with tension and anticipation. I hear the whoosh of air and the loud crack against my backside. The instant slice of pain causes me to scream loudly and my whole body to jolt. The chains which hold me are pulled tight and the cuffs bite into my skin with the force I have pulled at them. Oh Fuck! That hurts, my tight eyelids are awash with the colour blue when I jolt again with another swipe, I whimper but feel another and another.
“Why do you have no choice?” His voice is raised above my loud panting breaths.
“I have no choice.” I spit out again followed by a ‘fuck you’ in my head. More strikes follow, I don’t know how many, he pauses allowing me to catch my breath before he repeats his question. He gets the same response and I can hear his frustrated, angry breaths but he continues his strikes moving the crop across every inch of my bare backside. I can feel my skin flame and raise in welts but rather than tense I find my body relax. A warm blanket flows across my skin and I sigh, the tension evaporates and I rest my head. I no longer count, my hearing is muffled and I can just make out his voice.
“Safe word Lola, use your fucking safe word!” His demand sounds desperate, he is furious when I shake my head. He asks again with gr
itted teeth. “Why do you have no choice?” His voice is angry, he is angry and I am calm.
“There was no choice,,” I sigh and he has stopped to hear what I am whispering. “Because you don’t love me.”
“Fuck!” He throws the whip across the room. It takes only a moment and all I can feel is heat, an unbelievable inferno across the top of my thighs and my backside. This heat is quickly replaced by the reality of unbelievable pain. Now this is a pain I never knew existed and it takes all my focus to concentrate on trying to control it. I focus on small breaths, holding the pain tight and then releasing it with each tiny breath. I do this a few times while I am aware that my cuffs are being loosened. I find I am in control of this pain, I can hold it, absorb it and release it and I feel better for letting it go. How fucked up is that? How fucked up am I? I let out a small laugh and wince at this tiny movement, Oh fuck this is going to hurt. I feel his warm hand on my neck and he rubs his fingers into my hair and leans in to whisper.
“Don’t move, I need to get some cream, I had no idea you’d take it that far.” He sounds upset, he gently kisses my ear. I can’t have him being sweet and tender, not when I’ve gone through that to have a level of pain I can cope with. He leaves the room and I push myself up and stifle my tears and a bite little too hard on my lips causing them to bleed. Tiny cries are kept silent in my mouth and I walk out and in to the living room before he returns from the bathroom. Every step causes a thousand hot needles to race across my skin and I continue to focus on my breathing, it’s effective and if I didn’t have to move so much it would be a perfect distraction. I just manage to pull my dress over and down my body when I hear.
“Fuck! What do you think you are doing? You need treatment, your skin needs treatment.” He scolds.
“Yes Sir, and I will treat it when I get home.” He is about to argue but I continue “You were right; I did need the pain and the release.” I swallow quietly. “Thank you Sir.” I go to pick up my coat but struggle with the bend and he rushes forward to hand it to me. Our hands touch and I snatch mine back at the painfully familiar spark.
“I should be taking you home.” He grumbles angrily.
“You should, but you can’t.” I confirm and for the first time tonight I look in to his eyes which are the deepest blue and swirling with anger. Mine are filled with regret. I am strangely grateful for tonight but it doesn’t change anything. “Good night Sir.” He walks to the door but before I walk out I add. “Don’t call me again.”
“Goodnight Lola.” He closes the door.
I have the most uncomfortable taxi journey of my life as I try to hold my body weight hovering above the seat, my arms shakes with tension and we finally pull up outside the restaurant. The driver has had enough tact not to ask why I can’t sit down, I don’t need to add embarrassment to my already painful night. I ask him to wait a minute while I take my boots off in the taxi, I have to crawl on to my knees and pull them awkwardly off from behind but they are killing me too and it’s just a few steps barefoot to my door.
“Thank you.” I grab some money for the tip and hand it through the window. “I’m all good here, you’re Ok to go home now, thanks for waiting.”
“My pleasure love, take it easy.” He winds his window up and pulls away as I rummage through my bag for my keys. My fingertips just touch the metal when I am forced with brutal strength against the wall, my face pressed hard and my cheek being ground in to the rough brick. The stench of warm stale smoke fills my nose and the attacker’s breathing is laboured. His lips are at my ear and his big strong body has me pinned immobile. His fingers are pressed around my neck, why can’t I think what to do? My heart is panicked and my head is screaming but I can’t make out what it’s trying to tell me, I am just frozen, terrified.
“There’s my little whore, what kept you so long? Eh? Who have you been fucking tonight eh?” His dirty laugh makes me shiver, his filthy fingers are caressing my neck, squeezing a little too tight, making my pulse race in fear. “It doesn’t matter. After tonight no one’s going to want to fuck you again, I’m to make sure no one wants you after I’ve finished with you.” He grinds roughly into me pushing my hips hard against the wall and his other hand tries to grab the hem of my dress under my coat. His nails claw at my thighs trying to grab at panties that aren’t there, they would still be with Daniel. “Ah fuck you are a dirty whore, wouldn’t know it to look at you but look . . .” He paws my bare arse and I scream as he scrapes the tender skin. He pulls me back toward him and I instantly try to fold forward, the stiff curve of my spine making it impossible for him to get me on my back and drag me that way. He picks me up as if I am nothing and throws me with his weight against the wall. I hit hard, winded and feel a crack in my back or might be my ribs, and I fall in a heap on the floor. I flinch from the shooting pain from landing on my backside but I am quickly lifted by my throat, my feet dangling as I fight for every breath. My head is spinning. What are you doing Bets, stop trying to fight him, look at the size of him, think! For fuck sake think!
I push my arms up in between his that have a front chokehold on me. I press with all my strength against his elbows enough for him to release a little of the pressure on my throat so I can grab some desperately needed air. I manage to jab my thumbs into his eye sockets. I feel the jelly liquid tissue give under the pressure and although I don’t have long nails I can feel them sink into something soft. He curses and drops his arms a little, giving me enough room to pull back and throw my head full force at his face. I crack his nose hard and he curses again but still hasn’t let go off my neck and I feel dizzy from the impact of my head on his nose. I pull back again and throw my head forward; I miss judge and hit my nose full force on his iron strong jaw. I feel an instant blinding pain like an ice-pick through my scull and a loud crack. Blood pours from my nose and large black spots float in my eyes but he has let me go and it’s enough. I hit the ground running. I can hear him cursing and he starts to run after me. I only have a slight lead, my head is pounding, blood is streaming from my face and I’m barefoot having dropped everything at my door.
It’s central London, I know it’s late but why is there no one around? I realise that I am running the route I take when I go for my morning run. Is that what my subconscious thinks, that I’m out for a jog, because I know my conscious state knows the last place I need to be is running around one of the Royal parks this time of night with a psychopath chasing me. I can hear him gaining and I know I have run over something sharp because I can no longer put my weight down on one foot. Blood is gushing from my nose and I try to wipe the excess away from my mouth as I gasp for air. I see Daniels apartment block ahead. He is probably still at the flat but there might be a guard that recognises me. I run toward the door my heart beating so fast it’s just pushing blood from my body at a speedier pace and I feel dizzy and lightheaded. I bang on the door and press my face against the glass. No one is at the desk, but I can see a cup so it might mean they are just doing a walkthrough, maybe they will be back any minute. I can hear the footfalls nearing and I think that maybe I don’t have a minute. I rush to the side entrance and swipe my finger, silently praying that Daniel hasn’t removed me from the code five clearance. Nothing, the red light blinks at me, mocking me. Did I really think after having me escorted from the building he wouldn’t have had my access removed at the same time.
My head falls against the glass. The blood from my nose still falling in large drops down the surface. My hands are sticky and warm with trying to clean my face. I look at the finger print pad and I can see my blood smearing the screen. I grab the cuff of my dress and rub frantically at the screen cleaning the blood while I suck my finger and pull at my dress finding a clean bit of material to dry it. I breathe in shakily, I swipe my finger and I can hear him right behind me. I go to turn when the door clicks and I quickly push and slam it shut. I look through the glass of the door to see who was following. Try to see who did this to me but I don’t see his face, I don’t see any face, I see a
very bright light then nothing.
THE LIGHT IS really bright. I don’t think I’ll open my eyes just yet. I don’t know where I am but I’m warm and I feel like I’m swathed in the softest fluffiest blanket and it feels wonderful but my arm itches like crazy. I could go back to sleep if this itching would stop, my arms feel really heavy like they are moving in slow motion as I try to lift one to scratch the other.
“Hey, hey sweetie, don’t do that.” Hey that’s Sofia . . . her voice, Sofia’s with me . . . Oh that’s nice. I can feel her take my hand, she squeezes it, but I need it to scratch this itch. It’s driving me crazy and I try to pull it from her hold. “No no, no don’t sweetie, you need it in, it’s helping with the pain.” She sounds sad, why is she sad? I don’t feel any pain. I try to open my eyes but clamp them shut instantly, it feels like I’m staring into the sun.
“Lights.” My voice is hoarse and it sounds muffled in my ears, but I am obviously understood because the brightness of the light is dimmed. I try again to open my eyes and they take a little while to focus but I have spent enough time in similar rooms to recollect straight away I’m in hospital. My head feels thick and I look at the source of my itch and see the clear IV and needle sticking out of the crook in my arm. That would explain the lack of pain and my thick dazed head. I look at my hand and at the beautiful face looking intently at me. “Ooo Sofs you look like shit.” She looks tired but I’m guessing I look worse as I start to recall why I am here. She laughs out loud and sighs in relief.
“Yes sweetie I’m sure I do but let’s not go swapping mirrors any time soon Ok?” She is laughing lightly but she has some tears falling down her face.
“That bad eh?” I croak and try to smile but my lips feel too puffed up to crease, like someone went crazy with the fillers. I try to shift up the bed but she stops me and presses a button that allows the bed to do all the hard work. “What time is it?”