by Ashe Barker
He crouched behind her and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Lift your bottom up, and lower your face to the carpet. Then spread your legs as wide as you can. You can put your hands on the floor if you wish.”
Now she would argue, surely. He waited as several moments passed. Then, Victoria did exactly as he had instructed. She raised her bottom for him, opened her thighs, and settled her cheek on the rug. Her face was turned away from him though.
“Turn your head, I want to see you.”
Again, she complied, though her eyes were closed.
“Open your eyes, Victoria. Don’t look away or close them again unless I give you permission. Do you understand?”
“Yes, of course I understand.” Her tone was not exactly that of the meek submissive. He had work to do here.
“Excellent, because now that I have made my wishes clear and you have understood them, I will spank you if you fail to obey me. Is that also clear?”
A brief pause, then, “Yes.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Whenever you are naked in my presence, or kneeling, or in any position of submission, you will address me as sir. Without fail. Is that also clear?”
“How will I know? The correct times, I mean?”
Adam smiled at her, though with no warmth. “You will know, Victoria. If in doubt, call me sir anyway. Again, failure to comply with this requirement will earn you spankings or other punishments. So, are we clear on this rule also?”
“I, I think so.”
He slapped her bottom, the spank just hard enough to create a resounding crack. “Who are you talking to, girl?”
“You, sir. I apologise.”
The firm flesh of her buttock quivered, as did her lower lip. Adam could see this treatment was getting to her, causing her to be confused, distressed even. He needed to change the pace or the next part of his plan would not work.
He palmed her bottom, noting the way the smooth globes clenched at his touch. Fear? Perhaps, but from the glistening he could see on her soft folds he thought not. She might be scared, but she was aroused too.
He continued to caress her sweet derrière, his fingertips just brushing her pussy as he slid them past. She tightened with each stroke, her cunt moistening before his eyes. She was loving and hating this at the same time, her body and her mind at war with each other. He needed her to abandon the struggle, and he knew just how to cause her to do that.
He stood, towering over her for a few moments. Her eyes were fixed on his shoes, her features reflected in the highly polished leather.
“Do not move from that position.” He turned on his heel and walked away.
He was only gone a few moments, just sufficient time to check on her bath and turn off the taps. When he returned he was gratified to note she had not shifted so much as an inch. He crouched alongside her again, and reached to trail the backs of his knuckles along her jaw. The action seemed to relax her. Her eyelids drooped.
“Open your eyes, please.” His tone was gentle now, but no less effective. She did as she was told, gazing up at him from her position of absolute surrender did she but know it. He was delighted with her progress so far.
“Your bath is ready for you, but you have to earn that pleasure. I want us to get to know each other a little first. So, tell me, Victoria, when did you last pleasure yourself?”
“I…? What? What did you ask me?”
“I asked when you last brought yourself to climax. You did climax, I assume?”
“I’m not sure, I mean…”
He slapped her bottom again, hard. “Who are you addressing, Victoria?”
“Sir. Sorry, I mean sir.”
“Learn it, or you’ll find yourself receiving a thorough spanking before we proceed much further, if that’s what it takes to press the message home.”
She was chewing on her lower lip again, tears glistening in her eyes. Adam returned to his theme.
“So, your most recent orgasm. Tell me about it.”
“I can’t. Sir. Please don’t ask me that.”
“You can, and you will. Let me help you get started. Did you bring yourself to orgasm by touching yourself?”
A few seconds passed, and he contemplated another hard slap to her upturned buttocks to help her focus. Then she screwed up her face and gave a brief nod.
“In words, please. Was that a yes?”
“Yes, sir.” She spoke so quietly he had to strain to hear. It was enough though. Adam was sufficiently intuitive to know when to press a submissive and when to accept what she offered.
“Thank you. You were at home, I assume? In your bedroom?”
Again that faint little voice. “Yes, sir.”
“When was this?”
“Two nights ago, sir. After you left Hebden Bridge.”
“I see. And the time before that?”
“I, I’m not sure. Some weeks, I think. Sir.”
“And before that?”
“I cannot remember, sir. Please, that is the truth, you must believe me.”
“I do believe you, Victoria. Why would I not?” He was pleased with her answers, and had no doubt as to their veracity. So, his little Victoria liked to pleasure herself, but not especially frequently. He hoped her most recent foray into the delights of masturbation had been prompted by his visit, by the spanking he administered and the sensations it evoked. Or perhaps by their conversation the following day, in her office. He really could not blame her if it had; the first thing he did when he arrived back in Knightsbridge was retire to his private quarters and deal with the persistent erection she had stirred. She might have required release also. He hoped so.
“In future, you will only pleasure yourself with my permission. Your orgasms belong to me, Victoria.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
He was beginning to think she just might. “So, Victoria, where did you touch yourself exactly, two nights ago, after I left you?”
“I’m not sure I understand, sir.”
He was quite certain she did, but her response played into his hands. Without warning her what he was about to do, he drew the flat of his palm across her damp folds, from clitoris to anus. She lurched forward, almost over-balancing, letting out a sharp shriek as she did so.
Adam applied another hard slap to her arse. “I said, do not move. I was not intending to restrain you immediately but I will if I have to. Now, did you touch yourself here?” He repeated the long, slow stroke across her drenched pussy lips, this time allowing his fingertips to explore. He dipped the tip of his middle finger into her entrance and stopped, leaving his digit where it was.
“So, do you stroke your quim, like this, on your sweet lips? Or do you prefer to slide your fingers right inside, perhaps?” He proceeded to penetrate her with his long finger, sliding it fully into her hot, moist channel. She clenched, her body stiffening but she remained in position. He pressed forward gently, conscious of her virginity and loath to cause her any unnecessary discomfort. Her first time would be soon, very soon, and he was determined to make the experience a memorable one for all the right reasons.
He withdrew his finger, then thrust it back inside her. “Is this how you would do it, Victoria?”
“N-no, sir, I haven’t… I would never… Oh!”
She shuddered, and he recognised the first stirrings of her release. He pulled his finger from her cunt. “Very well, so tell me then. What did you do that evening, Victoria? How did you touch yourself? Where?”
He punctuated his probing words by easing her inner lips apart and circling his fingertip just inside. Victoria let out a gasp, then a moan. Moisture leaked from her, dampening her inner thighs as her arousal grew. He stopped, and she lifted her bottom higher, thrusting her hips back towards him.
“Oh, no, you don’t. I’ll give you what you want, but you have to ask me for it. Tell me what you like, girl. What should I do to make you come?�
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“Anything, sir.”
“Not anything. Something. Tell me.”
She dragged in a shuddering breath, then, “Further forward, please. There’s a more sensitive place…”
Her clit. Right. He adjusted his angle so now the tip of his thumb rested between her pussy lips whilst his fingers caressed her swollen bud. “Is this it, Victoria? Is this the place?”
“Yes. Oh, dear Lord…”
Adam chuckled. “I thought we agreed just sir would suffice.”
“Yes. Sir, yes. Oh, oh…” She wriggled, squeezing her cunt around his thumb now as he pressed deeper.
“This is your clit, Victoria. In future, if I ask you where you’d like me to touch you, I expect you to say it. Use the word.” He scraped his fingernail across the head of her plump nub. She stiffened, started to pant. Her words were incomprehensible, but he didn’t need to hear them. He knew a woman on the brink of a powerful orgasm when he had her spread out beneath him.
Adam took her clit between his fingers and squeezed it. Victoria began to shake, her entire body caught up in what he was doing to her. Her hands were now spread on the carpet in front of her, her fingers clawing at the pile as she rushed toward her release.
He considered making her wait; it would be all the more intense when he did finally allow her release. But he decided against that, this time. He wanted her trust, but even more than that he wanted her appetite for this, for him, to grow. She had obeyed him, she had earned her reward, and he would give it.
He laid the pad of his middle finger over the tip of her clit and he rubbed, soft at first, then firmer. Victoria let out a long, low moan and convulsed around his hand. Her inner walls contracted to grip his thumb, and she thrust her hips back hard to increase the friction. Adam pressed a little harder, curling his thumb just a little in order to make contact with the spot inside her where he knew she would feel most pleasure. He got it, and she was gone.
He maintained the pressure, caressing, rubbing, stroking, thrusting as she writhed and moaned, her body shuddering under his ministrations. Her response delighted him, so ready, so enthusiastic that both her modesty and inhibitions were swept aside. A good, hard orgasm would do that every time.
As she went still, her slender form now sinking towards the floor beneath her, he withdrew his fingers.
“You may lie down now, if you wish.” Adam knew she had been about to do just that, without his permission. He had no wish to mar her pleasure by punishing her for moving when he had told her not to, so he forestalled that by issuing the invitation. Victoria rolled onto her side and lay stretched out on the rug. Her eyes were closed, her breathing rapid and shallow. He watched her for several moments, relishing her unravelled, sated beauty, before he reached for her and picked her up. He cradled her in his arms as he leaned back against the chair he had vacated earlier, and simply held her until her breathing returned to normal.
She nestled against him, curling her fingers in the pristine linen of his shirt. He tightened his arms around her and kissed her tousled hair. Several minutes passed before she lifted her face from his chest and peeped up at him.
“That was wonderful, much better than I could have done, Thank you, sir.”
“You are most welcome, my sweet little slut. So now, if you are quite finished, I believe your bath may be getting cold.”
“Why did you call me that? I’m not…” She made as though to wriggle from his arms, her face betraying her hurt at the description he had applied.
Adam could have kicked himself as he tightened his grip again. He tangled his fingers in the hair at the back of her head and held her still, forcing her to remain still and look at him.
“You are a slut, Victoria. But you are my slut, which is exactly what I want from you. Your responses are beautiful, your sensuality a rare and exquisite gift. When your desires are shared with me, as they were just now, that pleases me. You please me.”
She peered at him, uncertain, then, “I see. I think.”
He wasn’t sure she did entirely, but he’d work on that. He lowered his face to hers, brushed his lips across her mouth. “That’s good then. Now, your bath awaits, madam.”
He stood, lifting her against his chest, and without further ado carried her to the bathroom.
Chapter Eight
Victoria perched on the edge of the bath, swathed in a thick white towel with the logo of the hotel embroidered at one corner in a brilliant splash of crimson. She watched the last of her bathwater swirl away down the plughole. Georgina was always pestering her to have modern plumbing installed at Wynne House. She had resisted thus far but could see the attraction of running hot water. Perhaps, once the mill was safe again…
Her route to such security and the modern conveniences it would offer was even now waiting for her beyond the bathroom door. Adam Luke—sir to her—had made his intentions clear and so had she. They had a deal, and now it was time to honour her part of the bargain.
Victoria stood and gave her legs a last vigorous rubdown with the towel. She was marking time now, taking a last few minutes to collect her thoughts before he came looking for her. To his credit, Adam had deposited her beside the tub, offered her a swift bow, and left her to relax. He had not said how much time she would be permitted to have to herself, but she judged that she’d already lingered in here for perhaps an hour. The water had been tepid by the time she surrendered to the inevitable and reached for the towel.
She had needed every second of the respite he granted her in which to collect her shattered wits. She had been unclear just what to anticipate from him as they embarked on this adventure, but it had not been that. That… event out there in the sitting room, on the carpet.
She supposed she had expected him to start their arrangement by relieving her of the virginity that she had been unable to shed for herself. That was, after all, the main thing that men were interested in, was it not? Their pleasure, their needs. And it would meet her requirements too. Babies and virginity just did not mix.
Up to now though, Adam Luke had been entirely concerned with her needs, her pleasure. Yes, he’d made her undress while he watched, and her embarrassment had been excruciating. She had done it though, and his response to the sight of her nudity had been obvious. But despite her vulnerability during those minutes—was it truly only a few minutes?—when she had knelt before him, her legs spread wide and her pussy on display, he had still only been interested in her desires. He had insisted she acknowledge those needs, admit to them, ask him to fulfil them, and at first she had believed she might actually die of mortification. Yet she hadn’t died, not even close. She had shivered and panted and called him sir, and in return he had stroked her with those beautiful, skilled fingers of his until she just came apart.
The orgasms she produced for herself in the quiet privacy of her room had never felt like that, not even close. The one he’d given her was similar, different, the same but so much more. Her pussy clenched just thinking about what he’d done, and what he’d made her do. How he’d made her feel.
Right up until the moment he called her a slut. He had explained, and what he said made some sort of sense, but still that word wounded her. She’d pondered on it as she soaked in the bath, prodding her feelings around until she could pinpoint just what had hurt her. She finally settled on an answer—respect and dignity. She wanted his respect, and among the hard-headed Yorkshire wool barons who made up her circle no one would have other than contempt for a slut. That was where she came from, those were the values ingrained in her.
She resolved to behave better. It seemed vital to her that she make Adam Luke understand she was a decent, intelligent woman despite the predicament she currently found herself in. And yes, whilst she was at it she would enjoy his touch. She would obey him, call him sir, kneel if he so desired, but she would do so with courage and with dignity. He would have the submission he desired from her, but she would have her pride.
She straigh
tened, checked the knot that secured the towel between her breasts, and marched back into the bedroom.
Adam was lounging on the bed. The massive, four-poster bed that was situated in the centre of the room and that she had dimly registered as he carried her through here on the way to her bath. She had taken in no other details of her surroundings, so she stopped to survey the room now. The furniture was solid and expensive. The bed itself was made of mahogany, and the rest of the furniture had been chosen to complement it. She spotted a dressing table, a chaise lounge, a tall cheval mirror beside a folding screen that was decorated in bright scenes depicting a Japanese garden. Two comfortable-looking chairs were arranged on either side of the fireplace where several logs glowed in the hearth. The room was cosy, warm, welcoming. It was the sort of room Victoria preferred, not too fussy, not cluttered with her mother’s knick-knacks or Georgina’s paints. It was just… pleasant. This was a room she could relax in, or would, if things were different.
But they were not different. They were what they were, and she was here for a purpose. She stood to gain substantially from this liaison, both financially and personally. At this stage she could not afford to harbour unhelpful doubts or pointless regrets.
Adam watched her as she made her way to the foot of the bed. She halted there. “I have kept you waiting, sir. I apologise.”
“Not at all, Victoria. We are in no hurry. I trust you enjoyed your bath.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“You are feeling refreshed? Ready to continue?”
“Of course. What would you like me to do now, sir?”
His answering smile was cool, controlled. “I’d like you to remove the towel, and climb up onto the bed, please. You will kneel at one of the corners, your back against the post.”
Again he surprised her. Victoria had expected to find herself spread-eagled on the mattress and thoroughly fucked. What could he do to her upright?
Adam smiled again, warmer this time. “I can tell by your expression you doubt the wisdom of my choice. How little you know, sweet Victoria.” He rolled from his comfortable seat against the pillows and advanced toward her.