Pinch Me [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations)

by Tymber Dalton

  “Now that’s the way I wish I could keep you dressed all the time,” he said. He grabbed her wrists and pulled them up and over her head, pinning her down. His stiff cock pressed through his jeans, hitting her perfectly against her clit. “Wearing nothing but my cuffs, my collar, and my wedding ring.”

  She nodded, barely able to breathe with the anticipation coursing through her body.

  He reached into the bag again. He withdrew a coil of royal blue rope and held it up. “Tonight, we do things my way.”

  Laura caught her lower lip under her teeth. She felt close to coming just from the raging passion in his face. She nodded.

  “Good girl.” Using her wrists, he pulled her up into a sitting position. “Arms up.”

  She immediately complied as he set to work, weaving a chest harness around her torso. He took his time, the rope sliding over her flesh as he trapped her breasts, making them stand out.

  Pausing, he leaned in and sucked her left nipple between his lips.

  She let out a moan and started to put her arms down to hold him but he let go. “I said arms up.”

  Dom tone. Her arms shot skyward again.

  “Good girl.” He sucked her right nipple into his mouth. An accompanying bolt of liquid need coursed straight to her aching clit.

  He continued fashioning the chest harness, then added her arms to it, binding them snugly to her sides and leaving her unable to move them.

  Rob stood and admired his handiwork. “Good.” He pushed her down onto her back. Leaning over, he pulled something else from the bag. She recognized it as an adjustable spreader bar. He clipped it to her ankle cuffs and then pushed her legs up and back, using the rope to secure it to the chest harness and leaving her open and vulnerable.

  “Someone got mouthy with me on the phone, didn’t they?”

  Unable to trust her voice, she nodded.

  He tsked at her and reached over to pull something else from the bag.

  A short rattan cane.

  He held it up for her inspection before reaching down, tormenting her nipples with the tip. “What do bad girls get when they disobey or get mouthy?”

  “The cane, Sir.” The whispered response had appeared from the depths of her brain without conscious thought on her part.

  He touched her clit with the tip. “Yes, they do.” He reached up and held it close to her mouth. “Kiss it. Show it love. It’s for your own good.”

  Eagerly, as if his cock, she wrapped her lips around the thin rod, flicking her tongue over it, sucking on it.

  He smiled. “Such a good girl. Now ask me for it.”

  “I need punishment, Sir. I disobeyed you.”

  “Tell me details. What did you do?”

  She felt the prickle of tears in her eyes. “I talked back to you on the phone, Sir.”

  He knelt next to her and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. This wasn’t Rob the playful paramedic that most everyone else saw.

  This was her Master, and this man was all business.

  A ferocity had taken over his expression. “Do you understand why you are being punished?”

  She nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I…because I talked back.”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  Confusion filled her. She struggled for the words even as his grip tightened on her chin, almost painfully, and he leaned in closer.

  “You were going to disobey me,” he quietly said. “When I’d given you a direct order that related to keeping you safe. What is the first and most important rule I have for you?”

  This, too, came unbidden to her lips. “That I obey you, Sir,” she whispered.

  He slowly nodded. “What is the first rule I told you applies to me?”

  Now she felt the tears rolling out the corners of her eyes, her vision blurring. “That you will always take care of me and put me first, Sir.”

  He nodded, his expression softening. “Very good, baby girl,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her. “You remembered.”

  She did, but that small achievement paled in comparison to her personal shame.

  She’d disobeyed him.

  She knew viscerally that never in their relationship since she’d become his submissive had she ever so blatantly challenged and disobeyed him.

  As if reading her mind, he asked, “What is our rule regarding talking?”

  Another answer from the abyss. “If I don’t agree with you, I calmly ask to take a time-out to talk, and we will.”

  “Did you?”

  She almost couldn’t bear to say it. “No, Sir.”

  He nodded. “That was very disappointing to me, that you did that. Do you feel you’ve earned punishment?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Say it.”

  Her breath hitched, now from crying instead of passion. “I disobeyed you by talking back to you, and by not asking to talk about it.”

  “Do you understand why I have to punish you for that?”

  It didn’t help her feel any better about it. “I was going to disobey you and put myself at risk.”

  His grip on her chin eased. He leaned in and kissed her. “Yes. Exactly. How many do you think you’ve earned?”

  They never had a set number before. She rarely earned anything more than a hard, bare-handed swat across her ass, or, a couple of times, five with his belt.

  He rarely punished her with a cane, although the threat of it as punishment went a long way toward keeping her focused. She hated the cane, which was why he liked to include it in their play sometimes. She’d take it for him in play, because he wanted her to.

  But punishment was different.

  She’d disappointed him.

  That was something she couldn’t bear.

  “Fifty, Sir.”

  He arched an eyebrow at her. “Fifty?”

  She nodded, unable to speak it.

  He leaned in and pressed a long, lingering kiss to her forehead. “Ten,” he said. “Ten hard ones. These are going to hurt, and they’re going to leave marks.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I’ll give you time between each stroke to process it, but you will take all ten without a safeword. This is punishment. Do you agree?”

  She nodded.

  “Say it.”

  “No safeword, Sir. I’ll take them.” She knew damn well if she sat up and said stop, game over, he would. And he wouldn’t hold it against her.

  She also knew she’d never be able to live with herself if she did that. She wanted this, wanted to be his.

  That meant she took her earned lumps.

  And she knew she’d earned them. That he was going to go easier on her than she would have gone on herself made her feel worse, not better.

  He reached into the bag and pulled out a rubber ball gag. “Do you want this?”

  “Yes, Sir.” It would be easier to take the strokes, having something to bite down on.

  He put down the cane. “Before we do, I want you to say it all, exactly why I’m doing this, and ask me for it.”

  She’d rather take extra cane strokes, but she spoke, her voice trembling. “I earned punishment for talking back to you on the phone. I was going to disobey you and put myself in danger, meaning I would have made you violate your rule to keep me safe. I need to be punished to remind me who is in charge…”

  She froze as a flood of memories about another night when they’d had a similar conversation flowed back into her brain. They felt foreign, but right, as they slipped into place.

  He frowned. “Laur?” Their most basic safeword was to use each others’ first names when deep in a scene.

  She shook her head to quiet him. “I…” She swallowed hard, not wanting to stop to process it and interrupt things. “I get mouthy. I get pushy. I lose my temper and Sir has to remind me when I get like that, because…”

  Another sob as her talks with Bill and Steve and others about her infamous temper came to mind.

  And about how m
uch happier they all noted she seemed to be once Rob came into her life. “Because I need Sir’s strength to keep me taken in hand and keep me grounded. I’m happiest when Sir’s in charge. And I don’t want Sir to let me slide and let me get out of punishment.”

  He put down the gag and reached over as if to untie the spreader bar, but she shifted, moving her bent legs away from him and putting the knot out of reach. “I need punishment,” she rapidly said, “because I want you to be in charge of me. I need someone stronger than me. Please, Sir. Please give me my punishment.”

  He froze. “Laura, do we need to stop and talk about this?”

  She shook her head. “No, not now. Please, not now, Sir.”

  He hesitated, considering.

  She knew if he decided to stop, that was it, they’d stop.

  She didn’t want him to stop. “Please, Sir,” she begged. “Please.”

  He sat up again, considering. “Legs back,” he ordered.

  She shifted toward him again.

  Like a flash, his hand shot out and snagged the ring on her collar. He pulled her head up, leaning in eye-to-eye. “Don’t you ever pull away from me like that again. Do you understand me?”

  She wanted to laugh with relief. “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”

  He nodded. “Good girl.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead before releasing her collar. “That’s an extra stroke for that.”

  She eagerly nodded. “Yes, Sir.” Relief flooded her. He wouldn’t stop. It also explained why he hadn’t shed his clothes yet. Unless it was something that happened when he’d already got naked, he never undressed before he got her punishment out of the way.

  “Sir?” she whispered before he fitted the ball gag into her mouth.

  “Yes?”

  “I miss my maintenance spankings.” Every morning they spent together, before, even if he was running late, she got at least a quick, bare-handed spanking over his lap, usually once he was already dressed.

  Somehow, that made it even hotter for her, to be naked across his thighs, feeling the fabric of his cargo pants rubbing against her flesh while he firmly pinned her down by the neck with his left hand and smacked her ass with his right.

  Even if it meant waking her up and rolling her over to deliver several stinging swats to her ass, she got them.

  She’d needed them.

  She’d wanted them.

  If they had the day to spend together, or he wasn’t running late, he took his time and sometimes even used a paddle or other implement to make it sting even more. On his days off, he’d give her spankings so good she was still feeling them that evening, and usually spent her day wet because she’d wiggle in her office chair just to feel the burn in her ass.

  His stern expression dissolved as he burst into laughter. “Is that what you just remembered, sweetheart? Maintenance spankings?”

  She nodded.

  He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Then starting tomorrow morning, you’ll get your maintenance spankings again. It’ll be my pleasure.”

  He fit the ball gag into her mouth and waited until she had it positioned where she wanted it to buckle it behind her head.

  Then he shifted positions, sitting next to her, his back to her and his left arm pressed into the backs of her knees. He picked up the cane with his right and looked at her. “Ready?”

  She nodded.

  She felt him slowly rub the cane up and down the backsides of her thighs, the crease where they joined her ass cheeks, and down her ass. Up and down, building the tension.

  Then he paused it in that damn crease and she took a deep breath.

  Zwwip. The snap as it struck her there, all the way across, tore a scream from her as she bit down on the gag with her jaw tightly clenched.

  He looked back at her, once again calm and stern, all playfulness gone. “One,” he said.

  She nodded, tears of pain coursing down her cheeks.

  He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said they would hurt.

  She couldn’t have loved him any more or harder in that moment if she’d tried. He wouldn’t let her get away with disobeying him. He was in charge.

  He owned her.

  He waited until she settled down for a moment, once again stroking the cane up and down her flesh. Where he’d stop and take the second stroke, only he knew.

  Zwwip. Right across the center of her ass cheeks, every bit as hard as the first. As she struggled to process it through her scream of pain, she delighted in the fact the welts from that stroke would still hurt in a couple of days.

  If she was lucky.

  “That’s two.” He drew it out, all eleven strokes hard and biting and leaving her a screaming, sobbing mess by the time he finished and put down the cane.

  “There’s my good girl,” he cooed, his fingers softly stroking and soothing her flesh.

  Then they came to a stop over her clit. In a flash, her sobs turned to moans as he slipped two fingers inside her pussy as deeply as he could.

  “You are a very, very wet girl,” he said. “You have really missed your spankings, haven’t you?”

  She forced her eyes open and nodded.

  The grin on his face only made her clit throb harder. “Such a good girl.”

  He reached into the bag and pulled something else out. She couldn’t see exactly what, but then she heard a soft click and a hum.

  Rob left her no time to process that. He filled her pussy again with his fingers and pressed the vibrator against her clit with his other hand.

  The scream around the ball gag this time was far louder, and not from pain.

  Her back arched even as her body betrayed her, humping against his hand and the vibrator as much as she could immobilized.

  “Such a good girl,” he cooed again. “You took your punishment so well, you earned a reward.”

  She threw her head back and moaned, the orgasm expanding, overwhelming. Yes, punishment was always followed by a reward, even when the maintenance spankings weren’t on a daily basis if he didn’t have time.

  Her Master wasn’t an idiot. He’d learned well from Seth and Tony and the others, meting overwhelming pleasure with overwhelming pain and rewiring her body to crave every bit of it.

  She had no idea how long he kept her coming. All she knew was she gave thanks it was a battery operated vibrator and not the more intense—and electrically powered—Hitachi.

  Eventually, he let out a chuckle and switched the vibrator off. Panting, she tried to catch her breath, eyes closed.

  Even through the last echoes of pleasure she felt the stinging, burning stripes of the cane marks across her flesh.

  And, despite the gaping holes in her memory, she finally felt complete.

  * * * *

  Rob had to force himself to give her all eleven strokes. Seeing her obvious distress before he started was the only thing that made him hold on to his reserve and follow through.

  His memories of their hours of conversation, hundreds of hours, maybe, with her curled in his lap and talking. About her asking him, before, to never let her talk her way out of punishment, especially if he thought she’d earned it.

  Her begging him to never let her get away with anything or push him around.

  The memory of Steve confiding in him just a month after Rob collared her that he didn’t know what Rob had done to Laura, but to never stop doing it. That she seemed relaxed and peaceful for the first time in her life.

  How his initial reluctance to take the firm control she told him she craved had eventually morphed into his need to keep her in hand, as much for his own sake as for hers.

  In a career where he controlled very little, where he witnessed so many bad things on a daily basis, where chaos and even violence caused others pain and suffering that he frequently felt helpless to stop, this was the blissful center of his universe. Keeping her happy and loved. Controlling what happened and ensuring that peace and calm ruled their household.

  She strictly ruled the rest of her world, her business
. Lives literally depended on that exacting level of control she had, inspiring and training students who could die if they didn’t do what she told them, how she told them, and when she told them.

  She needed the release from the stress. She needed him to be someone she could always count on to retain that control, even if she pushed the boundaries and tried to test him.

  They really were two halves of a kinky little whole.

  After removing the ball gag, he held the vibrator up to her lips. Without coaxing she opened, licking and sucking it clean and earning herself another laugh.

  “That’s my good girl.”

  He released her legs from the spreader bar and untied the rope harness, freeing her. Then he finally shed his own clothes and lay down next to her, kissing her neck, nibbling on her ear.

  “I want you, Sir,” she gasped. “Please.” She sat up and swung a leg over him but he stopped her.

  “Wait.” He reached behind him, trying to get to his pants.

  She pulled his hand back. “No.”

  Their eyes locked. “Laur, we need—”

  She silenced him with a finger on his lips and shook her head. Her eyes smoldered in the firelight. “Please, Sir. No.”

  There was a determined set to her jaw he knew all too well. He let her pull his hand back and place it on her hip. His other followed suit and she leaned forward and kissed him long and tenderly. Sitting up, she smiled and teased him with her hips, gliding the length of his engorged cock back and forth through her wet folds.

  She still remembered how to do that.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked.

  “Don’t you?”

  He smiled. “Mrs. Carlton, you know what you’re doing to me, don’t you?”

  She nodded, closing her eyes and enjoying it. “Having fun, aren’t you?” she asked.

  He laughed. “Oh yes.”

  “Okay then.”

  He tried one more time just to make sure. “I know we discussed this…before. Are you sure this is what you want?”

  She nodded.

  He grabbed her hips and lifted her, then settled her down onto the full length of his cock. He had to hold her still for a moment, not wanting to explode just yet. Her slick cunt tightly gripped his cock, a perfect fit.