Dan shook his head. He’d finished cleaning his glasses but he sat with them in his lap. ‘No, far from it. From the moment I first met you it was obvious that you’re utterly unique.’
‘Thank you. But you think me too hedonistic for a headmistress? Is that what you’re saying?’
Dan put his glasses back on. He looked at her for a long moment. Finally he spoke. ‘I suppose I’m just saying that you constantly surprise me. For a start, you’ve got to admit there’s a bit of a conflict between the job you do and the way you look.’
‘How do I look?’ She leaned forwards and picked up her glass.
Dan ran his hand through his hair. ‘I seem to have dug a bit of a hole for myself. Perhaps I should stop before it gets any deeper.’
‘No. It’s all right. Go on. I’m interested.’ She sipped her champagne.
‘Well . . . do you know who you remind me of? Only you’re blonde of course, so the comparison’s not quite perfect . . . you look like a kind of cross between Nigella Lawson and Dita Von Teese, sultry, slightly bossy and a wardrobe out of the 1940s.’
‘Actually, you’re the second person to say I remind them of Dita Von Teese.’
‘So it’s not just my fevered imagination then.’ He smiled.
‘Apparently not and it’s a very flattering comparison. Thanks.’ Jo ran her fingertip around the top of her glass. She could feel heat in her cheeks and she knew they’d be stained with red. ‘And I surprise you in other ways, too?’
‘Yes.’ Dan picked up his glass but he didn’t drink. Jo was certain it was a delaying tactic. ‘You know I’m working with Hellfire 2000 at the moment and every single one of them seems to know you. Then I find out you’re Rosalind Quirt.’ He stroked the condensation away from the outside of his glass with a fingertip, deliberately avoiding her gaze.
‘And you think this all means that I must be kinky?’
He nodded. ‘Well, are you?’
The timer pinged in the kitchen and Jo put down her glass. She stood up. ‘It looks like I’ll have to answer that later. If you’d like to take our glasses and the bottle into the dining room I’ll be through in a second with the food.’ She went into the kitchen.
After the meal they drank their coffee in the living room. Jo had taken off her shoes and she sat at one end of the sofa with her legs curled under her. Dan sat at the other, one arm along the back of the cushions and his long legs crossed. He looked boyish and handsome and relaxed.
Dan swirled the brandy in his glass. ‘I suppose, when you think about it, writing novels is a bit like what I do. You hide behind your characters, but you also reveal aspects of your true self by giving your own attributes to them.’
‘And you hide behind the version of Dan you’ve created for your films. I suppose I can see the parallels.’
‘Yes, but it’s a bit more than that, I think. The on-screen Dan is a mask, yes, but he’s also, in a way, a shield. Something to hide behind and keep me safe when I reveal my true self, my true feelings. Isn’t writing something like that?’
Jo took a long swallow of her brandy. She felt the hot liquid sliding down her throat, warming and relaxing her. ‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. It’s a safe way of sharing myself with the world because, by the time anyone reads it, I’ve made a clean getaway.’
‘And, as you write under a pen name, no one knows it’s you anyway.’
‘Well, a few people do, obviously. You among them, now.’
‘And, I promise, it’s a secret I intend to keep.’
‘Thanks.’ She watched Dan sipping his drink. She noticed his Adam’s apple bob and his eyes narrow as he swallowed. Under her clothes, her nipples tingled. She looked away. ‘Tell me, Dan. Were you involved in kink before you started the film?’
‘No, not at all. Never even fantasised about it. No – I tell a lie . . . When I was a teenager I used to have a recurring dream about Margaret Thatcher. She was always dressed in an academic gown, like the masters at my public school wore, and she used to make me pull my trousers down and masturbate while she made derogatory comments.’
Jo noticed that Dan was blushing. She laughed. ‘Interesting.’
‘I have no idea what it says about me though.’
‘I think it probably means that you’re far too posh. You can’t imagine lads who went to comprehensive schools dreaming about Maggie, can you?’
‘Are you sure you’ll be all right? We could call you a taxi.’ Dan was standing on the top step as Jo held the front door open for him. It was almost midnight. Lit from behind, Jo’s hair looked like spun gold.
‘No, I’ll be fine. There’s no point in me risking getting stopped for being over the limit and I only live ten minutes away. The walk will do me good. I only drove over because I was running behind. I’ll come back in the morning for the car if you don’t mind.’
‘Of course not. I’m not in tomorrow, unfortunately, otherwise you could have popped up for a coffee.’
‘Another time then. Or perhaps I can return the compliment and cook for you one evening.’
Jo smiled. ‘I’d like that. Goodnight then.’ She stepped forwards and laid a hand on his upper arm. Even through his shirt, his skin felt soft. She looked up at him.
Dan put his hands on her waist. He could feel her body heat through the thin cotton of her dress. Her waist felt impossibly small and he could feel the beginning of the swell of her hips. He bent his head and kissed her. Her lips were soft and warm and her face felt silky and smooth against his face.
He pressed his body against hers. He could feel her breasts pressing up against him and the soft curve of her belly. He brought up a hand and stroked her hair. His heart was pounding and his armpits prickled with sweat. He ended the kiss and stepped back.
‘Well.’ Jo reached out and took his hand. ‘I can’t remember the last time I had to stand on tiptoes to kiss a man. It makes a welcome change.’
Dan enjoyed the walk home. The air cleared his head and the simple repetitive motion seemed to soothe and relax him, ready for sleep. It wasn’t until he put the key in his front door that he realised that Jo had yet again managed to avoid telling him whether or not she was kinky.
Nine
Dan had arranged to visit Sadie for his private session early on Sunday morning. As he climbed into the car he felt vulnerable and uncertain but, nevertheless, there was a hard little kernel of secret excitement in the centre of his chest.
The rest of the team knew nothing about his bargain with her, and he’d deliberately avoided mentioning it to Sarah, though that didn’t make sense really because they’d been lovers for years and trusted each other with their secrets. But, somehow, it just felt too personal, too vulnerable.
Jo alone knew about the visit, though he still couldn’t work out why he’d mentioned it to her in the first place. At least he knew he could trust her. After all, she’d admitted she was Rosalind Quirt and had trusted him to keep her secret.
For some reason he felt that Jo would understand anything he said. She’d never judge him or try to impose her own values. He laughed softly. Though he didn’t believe in fate, he could almost believe that life seemed to be throwing the two of them together. She cropped up everywhere he went, like a bad penny.
There was something about Jo that Dan found comforting and reassuring and that’s what made it so easy to talk to her. But another part of her – the part that made his heart beat twice as fast as usual and his cock tingle – was surprising, challenging and slightly dangerous; as if anything might happen when he was with her. He couldn’t wait to talk to her about his session with Sadie. He didn’t doubt that he’d find her insights interesting and perceptive.
As he turned into Sadie’s road, for a moment he considered turning around and driving home again. But he knew that if he wanted her continued cooperation and her respect he couldn’t back out. He parked the car and locked it. At the bottom of her path he paused for a moment.
As he stood with one hand on the gate, it came
to him with a shocking clarity just what it was he was afraid of. The utter panic that filled him, that made his hands shake and his heart pound, was caused by a fear that he’d actually like it.
If he enjoyed the session, as he feared he would, he’d be completely defenceless before her. She’d know his most secret desires and the balance of power would be changed forever. He shut the gate behind him and walked up the path.
He rang the bell and waited. After a few minutes he saw Sadie approaching down the hall. She opened the door silently and he stepped inside.
She was wearing long black gloves, thigh-length spike-heeled boots and a skimpy garment shaped like an all-in-one swimming costume, except that it was made out of shiny PVC. It clung to her lithe body like a second skin. It was cut high at the legs, almost to her hip bones, and Dan was fairly certain that her pubic hair must have been removed because the gusset was only about an inch and a half wide.
‘I want to start by making it clear that, if we go ahead today, there’s no turning back. This is real . . . it’s private and absolutely confidential, but it is real. No masks, no playacting, no place to hide. So it has to be what you want. Do you understand?’
Dan nodded slowly. ‘Yes. That’s what I want.’
‘Very good.’ She smiled. ‘Then I’d like you to take your clothes off please – all of them. You can leave them on that chair.’
Dan began to unbutton his shirt. His fingers were clumsy and slow. He undid his cuffs and pulled off his shirt. He went to toss it on the chair but Sadie shook her head slowly and he understood that he was to fold it. He took his time folding it neatly then laid it on the chair.
He toed off his shoes then bent down to remove his socks. He could feel icy fingers sliding along his spine. His cock was tingling. He undid the button at the top of his fly and unzipped his trousers. He deliberately turned his back to her to hide his growing erection. He slid them down over his hips and bent to take them off.
He pushed down his boxers, pausing to extricate his hard-on, then slid them down and stepped out of them. He turned slowly round with both hands cupped over his crotch.
‘Move your hands, please. I know you’ve got an erection, there’s no point hiding it.’
‘Sorry . . .’ Dan’s voice sounded quiet and wavering. ‘Mistress,’ he remembered to add. He uncovered himself and stood with his hands down by his sides. She ran the tip of one gloved finger along the underside of his cock, lifting it up then releasing it so that it waved obscenely.
‘You’ve got nothing at all to be ashamed of . . . quite the contrary. It’s a very impressive example as a matter of fact. Though, as far as I am concerned, your cock is of no interest whatsoever. It’s mildly useful in helping me to gauge how much you’re enjoying my attentions, but you needn’t imagine you’re going to be allowed any relief. Do I make myself clear?’ Sadie looked him straight in the face.
‘Yes, mistress.’ He avoided her eyes, uncertain if it was permitted or not. His erection still stood out at halfmast.
‘Now, I want you to get down on your belly and crawl to the dungeon like the worm that you are.’ Sadie’s voice was hard and full of contempt.
Dan slid to his knees and lay down flat on the floor. Sadie walked away from him.
Dan slithered slowly forwards on his belly. His skin rubbed painfully against the carpet. He made slow progress, alternately moving his arms and legs like a lizard. He struggled to keep his head high, so that he could see Sadie. He saw her open the door at the top of the stairs and pause, waiting for him.
He could smell the gritty aroma of the carpet and his own sweat. He was panting from exertion and every movement felt as though he was dragging his body over coarse sandpaper. When he reached the top of the stairs Sadie began to descend, expecting him to follow.
Dan negotiated the steps with difficulty. He held onto the edge of each stair with both hands and slowly lowered himself. He felt completely unstable with his feet so much higher than his head and his body at a 45-degree angle.
His body banged painfully against the steps. His glasses had slid down his nose and the front of his hair had fallen in his face. When he reached the bottom of the stairs Sadie was waiting for him, holding the door open. He crawled through it and into the corridor. The flagstones were icily cold and he flinched.
Dan followed Sadie down the corridor. The flagstones didn’t scratch him like the carpet but they were so smooth and cold that his sweaty body kept sticking to them, making it difficult to move. His neck and shoulders ached from the effort of holding his head up. When he finally reached the dungeon and Sadie allowed him to stand up he was dirty, scratched and exhausted.
He stood to attention in the centre of the room, waiting for orders. Sadie went over to a trolley at the side of the room and picked up her utility belt. She wrapped it around her hips and buckled it up. Dan didn’t dare turn his head to look, but he tried to identify the implements that hung from it. She wheeled the trolley across the room and put it beside the whipping bench then came back into the centre of the room and stood in front of Dan.
‘I want you to know that I don’t do this for all of my clients, Dan. But since you’ve agreed to this session – not because you chose to, but because I forced you into it – I thought I ought to reciprocate the enormous trust that you’ve shown to me. Normally I’d consider this sort of thing too personal, too vulnerable to do with a client but I thought it was important to show you that I appreciate how defenceless you’re making yourself for me.’ Sadie began to unzip something at the top of her costume and Dan realised that there was a zip running underneath the cups of the bra part of her outfit. She undid both zips and the bra cups came away in her hands.
She held them in front of her breasts for a moment then smiled at Dan and tossed them aside. Dan felt a rush of excitement crashing over him. Blood pounded in his ears. Her breasts were small and pointed, her nipples the colour of milk chocolate. Her areolae were quite small but the nipples themselves were thick and long. Sadie began to walk over to him.
‘Thank you, mistress. It’s a beautiful gesture. I’m honoured.’ As Dan gazed at Sadie’s nipples he felt his cock gradually stiffening and rising until it pointed almost to the ceiling, but this time he wasn’t ashamed.
Sadie smiled. ‘Will you mount the whipping bench for me please?’
Dan climbed up onto it, laying his body along it and lowering his arms, ready for the restraints.
The leather felt cold and clammy against his skin. Sadie fastened the restraints. He felt the blood rushing to his head and his nose growing blocked as he hung his head.
His cock was rigid and aching. His heart thumped. As Sadie fastened the final strap across the small of his back he felt utterly powerless and unbelievably excited.
He closed his eyes and waited. His skin already felt hot and uncomfortable beneath the restraints. He could feel his erection trapped between his body and the padded leather bench.
Dan assumed that Sadie was selecting a suitable weapon to whip him with. He strained his ears but all he could hear was the distant sound of traffic and the sound of his own frenzied breathing. He heard Sadie’s heels clacking against the flagstones and braced himself in the expectation of pain. There was a soft slithering sort of noise like clothes being removed. Dan struggled to make sense of it and realised she was taking off her gloves. She picked up something from the trolley then walked around him until she was standing directly behind him.
Dan suddenly felt vulnerable and afraid. The bench was raked slightly so that his head was lower than his bottom. It forced his arse upwards and spread his legs apart. He knew that his rear end would be obscenely on display and totally exposed. A cold shiver slid along his spine and the hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle.
‘Have you ever been fucked in the arse, Dan? Perhaps you’re one of those men who likes a woman to strap on a cock and take him like a girl.’ She stroked along the crack of his arse with a fingertip and the shock of it made his body qui
ver.
‘No . . . no, mistress. Never. Some women like to slide in a finger while they’re sucking you, that’s as far as I’ve ever gone.’ Dan’s body was rigid with excitement and anticipation. His cock had begun to leak pre-come, wetting his belly and the leather beneath him.
‘That’s not very adventurous. A funny thing happens when a woman fucks a man. The balance of power completely changes. The woman feels masterful and aggressive and the man becomes passive and receptive. It can be quite mind-blowing.’
‘Are you going to fuck me?’ Dan could hear the anxiety in his own voice.
Sadie laughed. ‘If I want to, yes. Haven’t you realised yet? I can do whatever I want.’ She walked slowly around the bench, her heels clip-clopping against the floor. She bent down and put her face beside his. He lifted his head, trying to look at her. ‘And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.’
Dan’s cock tingled. Sadie reached out and pushed the damp hair away from his face. He gazed at her, hardly daring to breathe. She stood up and walked slowly back to the other end of the bench.
He felt the flat of one warm hand on his buttock and, a second later, something cold and slippery being spread around his arsehole. She was lubing him. His body tensed and he let out a long excited sigh.
The lube squelched noisily as she worked it in. He could feel her fingers circling his hole. His body was tense and trembling. Heat burned in his crotch.
Sadie pressed a fingertip inside him. It slid past his sphincter, bringing his nerve endings to life. His body jolted forwards and his erection rubbed against the wet leather.
She pushed her finger all the way in then began to slide it out again. Dan clenched and unclenched his fists. His arse felt alive, tingling with pleasure and excitement. Sadie pushed in a second finger and he gasped.
Dan was panting and moaning. He could feel his nipples, hard and sensitive, against the slick leather. Sadie curled her fingers and pressed their tips against his prostate and his body shuddered.
A Talent for Surrender Page 13