by Ashe Barker
Naked, I lie on my back on the bed, my legs spread wide, my knees bent, and carefully insert the eggs into my pussy. I’m already deliciously wet, no lubricant required. Nathan has always been able to have that effect on me. I stand carefully, slowly, half expecting the eggs to come sliding out but they don’t. My pussy clenches, wrapping itself around them, gripping them, gently holding them in place. I move toward the cross and feel the sensation immediately, the rolling, undulating pressure deep within as the unevenly weighted eggs shift inside me with every move I make. It feels wonderful. I squeeze, remembering the previous time we played with something similar, in Tom’s barn last summer. I experiment now with the glorious self-induced internal massage. It’s a little bit like the anal beads that I remember quite vividly from when I was last here, but maybe a little gentler. Possibly a little less intense.
At last, moaning already with pleasure, I step up to the cross and fasten the waist restraint around myself, buckling it at my side. Then I place my wrists through the leather bracelets and slip my feet into the straps at the bottom two points. And I wait.
Nathan doesn’t keep me waiting long. Only a couple of minutes, hardly anything at all in Dom time. Just enough time to help me anticipate what’s to come, and to continue to explore the pleasurable feeling of those lovely little eggs doing their delightful rocking and rolling thing inside me My forehead resting against the oak beam in from of me, I tense in surprise as the eggs suddenly start to vibrate inside me. Activated and controlled remotely by Nathan, my desire starts to build and peak as I hear the door open. Then the quiet click as he closes it behind him. I remain still, in my place on the cross. I know better by now than to attempt to move until my Dom instructs me that I should. I listen intently, hear his soft footsteps as he crosses the room, barefoot I think, to where I stand, waiting patiently for him.
“You like them, Miss Byrne? Our new toys?” He makes no move to touch me yet, but I am aware of him standing behind me. Close behind me.
“Yes, I like them.” My response is simple. I’ll ask him about the cross later. For now, I’m here to sample, to savor, to enjoy.
“Good. Me too.” He leans above me to tighten the wrist restraints then crouches at my feet to secure my ankles in place. “Not too tight, Miss Byrne?” he asks solicitously.
“No, I’m fine,” I reply. How polite we are.
Nathan steps away and I hear the familiar sound of the lid on the chest at the foot of his huge bed being lifted then clattering back to rest against the footboard as he reaches inside. He takes his time, careful in making his selections. At last he straightens, closes the lid and comes to stand behind me once more.
“Your safe word, Miss Byrne, is it still the same or do you want to choose a new one?”
“Will I need it?”
He responds with a severity I now know to be mock, but convincing even so. To the untutored ear. “Miss Byrne, you scare me sometimes. You have a reckless streak and I intend to cure you of it. Yes, you will need your safe word today. So, what is it to be?”
“Red, then, as usual.”
“Thank you.”
Then I jump, startled by the light caress on my shoulder before he scoops up my hair and pushes it forward, off my back. He steps away slightly. I hear the faint rustle as he picks something up, turns back to me. “No last minute change of heart then, Miss Byrne?” His voice is soft, but the familiar steel of the hardened Dom is there, threaded through his tone, menacing but comforting in equal measure. He is Master here, and therefore I’m safe.
“No. I want this. Please. Please, Nathan…” And I yelp in pain as the first blow lands.
The whip has fallen across my shoulders and back. Despite my eager enthusiasm of moments ago I can’t help the expletive that bursts from my lips. “Christ, fucking hell, Nathan…”
“Miss Byrne?” His question hangs in the air between us, unspoken but clearly stated. I gasp for a few seconds, collect my scattered wits before I settle back into position, rest my forehead once more on the massive wooden frame of the cross.
“Please, continue,” I whisper.
Four, five, six, seven. Each time the whip falls, my whole body tenses and I cry out, I can’t help myself. This hurts so much. And so beautifully. Every tense clenching that he forces through my helpless body causes the eggs deep within me to increase their delicious pressure, my desire to mount further. I’m gasping, moaning, no longer able to separate the pleasure from the pain. Not sure, not even caring where one begins and the other ends.
The regular, repetitive blows are strangely hypnotic, and I find myself relaxing into them, accepting. Welcoming the pain and riding it, a part of it but detached, too. At times it’s like watching myself from outside my own body, as if this torture is happening to someone else. But at the same time, I’m right there in the heart of it. Or it’s at the heart of me.
Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen. The pain builds, grows, expands to fill every corner of me. I hurt everywhere, my back and shoulders are on fire, there’s now nothing else in this world apart from me and that whip. And those wonderful, glorious eggs massaging me gently from within. I’m so close to orgasm that I scream with frustration as I feel my body sag, the bite of the restraints on my wrists tightening as I’m no longer able to support my own weight, melting into the cross.
“I have you.” Nathan’s arm is around my middle, supporting me as he releases first my wrists, then my ankles, carrying me swiftly to the bed. He lays me down on my stomach, and slides his hand between my legs to finish the job. He strokes my clitoris, at first delicately then firmly as I groan, loud and hard, my hips thrusting upwards to offer myself to him. Wordlessly begging him to help me.
“Come, come for me now, beautiful Eva. Come, Angel.”
The soft command is all I need, and the tsunami of orgasm, powerful, beautiful and quite overwhelming rocks my world. I shudder, gasping as wave after wave of pure, sweet ecstasy flows through me, all other sensations pushed aside, starting at my core and radiating outwards to every extremity.
Only as the last tremors fade does Nathan gently remove the sweet little eggs before lifting my hips between his hands, raising me up enough for him to slide into me from behind, gently, sweetly.
“Let me love you, beautiful Eva. Let me make love to you. Please, now…”
“Yes,” I murmur. “Yes, yes, yes…” And it isn’t until afterwards that I realize what he said—‘make love’, not his usual ‘fucking’. Not until he slides out of me, rolls onto his back and pulls me over him to lie on top, gazing down into his face.
“I think you got into the zone back there. You had a good time, didn’t you?”
I wince, conscious of the sharp stinging still evident across my back every time I move, then I nod. It had hurt, hurt like crazy, but I know what he meant about the zone, that strange, almost trance-like state between pain and pleasure where I had found myself floating, suspended within my own body before my legs gave way. It was a little bit like being drunk, sort of detached and floating, observing and participating at the same time. And it felt absolutely fabulous, truly wonderful.
Nathan grins, his tone teasing. “Maybe you do have what it takes to be a decent submissive after all.” Then, “Kiss me, Miss Byrne.” His tone is low now, seductive, his smile soft. His eyes are deep, bottomless, and I just adore him. I’ll always adore him.
“Not Miss Byrne,” I whisper. He frowns, quirks his head, questioning. “Mrs. Darke has a nicer ring to it, I think. If your offer still stands…?”
“Oh, it still stands, Miss Byrne. It definitely still stands. Now be a good little sub and do as you’re told for once. Kiss me.” I lower my lips to his and do exactly as I’m told.
* * * *
And now, another week has gone by. A week in which I’ve watched everyone around me caring for Isabella, smiling at her, holding her and cuddling her, and I want to snatch her back. She’s mine. Isn’t she? Could she be?
Most mornings now I wake up and I c
an see the sunlight. I feel happy. Well, happier. I’ve come to expect days to be good, to anticipate nice things happening to me. I find myself laughing, looking forward to tomorrow, making plans. We haven’t told the rest of our household that Mrs. Darke might be joining us soon, but Nathan and I are talking about it, tentatively planning the future together.
I expect happiness now, contentment, and so that’s exactly what I’m finding. My own self-fulfilling prophecy. I’ve been out on the moors a few times with Nathan, Rosie and Barney. And with Ashley. Sweet little Ashley who has her own interesting secrets, I suspect. I asked Nathan about his recent additions to his erotic paraphernalia and was stunned to learn that he didn’t buy the St Andrews cross—Tom did. There are questions I’d like to ask Ashley, notes to compare perhaps, maybe, when we know each other better.
I’ve even been playing my violin again. I felt a bit sheepish having to ask Rosie to let me have it back, but she relinquished it readily enough. Our duets are rusty but coming along okay. I soon feel tired, I usually do these days, and any activity doesn’t last long. But I’m enjoying myself at last. As long as I don’t have to deal with Isabella.
But this morning I’m awake, before dawn, and I want her. I want my baby so much it hurts. I can’t bear to be parted from Isabella a moment longer. Nathan’s still asleep so I slide out of bed slowly, carefully. Nude as usual when sharing Nathan’s bed, I reach for a robe, before creeping silently out of his room and along the dark corridor, to Rosie’s. To Isabella.
By the glow from the dim night light I can see she’s sleeping, on her back in her cot, her breath rapid and even, in that way that only babies have. I lean down, scared to touch her, just breathing in her warm, milky, baby scent.
And my heart turns over. I love her, I love her with all that first passion I felt after she was born, the selfless devotion that only mothers feel. This little person, I would die for, kill for, give up everything for. And I’d so nearly lost her, so nearly been lost.
Overwhelmed by a sense of urgency and near panic at how close I’d come to absolute disaster I grab her out of the cot, holding her tightly against me and swearing I’ll never, ever let her go again. I stagger out into the corridor with her in my arms and lean with my back against the wall, slowly sliding down it.
And it’s there, crouching on the floor, hugging Isabella as though my very life depends on it, that Nathan finds me. I hear his bare footsteps on the carpet and see those feet stopping in front of me. He’s pulled on a pair of jeans, but that’s all. I look up at him, and he winks. He says nothing, just turns and slides down the wall to sit beside me on the floor. He slips his arm around me, pulling me to him, and I lean my head on his shoulder. He kisses my hair, strokes Isabella’s cheek.
And I know we’re okay.
Epilogue
July 2014
“Okay, Mum, see you in a couple of hours then. We’ll pick you up at the station.” I end the call and drop my phone back onto the bedside table, next to my empty coffee cup. I shuffle into a sitting position then lean back against the pillows, my hands behind my head.
Nathan grins at me as he emerges from the hotel bathroom, and I smile back. “Nice shower?”
“Yeah, good enough. Was that Victoria?”
“Yes. She just got into Edinburgh and her connecting train to Dundee leaves in half an hour. She’ll be here by…” I glance at my phone to check the time. “Just before twelve. I told her we’d meet her at the station.”
“Right. Did you phone Grace too?”
“I certainly did. Rosie’s fine, and Isabella. They’re going to visit Dan later. I gather there’s a new tiger cub.”
“No regrets about not bringing them with us?”
I shake my head. “Isabella’s too young to understand, and I know Rosie wasn’t keen. Perhaps it would have stirred up uncomfortable memories for her. Anyway, they’re having a special day too, so that’s fine. And we’ll be back home tomorrow.”
“So, that just leaves today, and we have an hour or so to kill. Any suggestions?”
“I reach for the television remote, though I know full well this is not what Nathan has in mind. He’s never harbored the least fondness for watching television in bed.”
“Eva, put that down and get busy.” His tone has altered, the shift almost imperceptible but I’ve become so finely tuned to his moods I can detect the slightest change.
“Busy?” I eye him, a stirring of nervous tension starting low down in my belly as I observe his narrowed eyes and the sardonic quirk to his lips.
“Yes, busy. You can do your best to be the perfect little sub and entertain me for a while.” He leans on the post at the foot of the bed and adjusts the pristine white hotel towel draped around his hips. Already the front of the thick fabric is tenting as his erection builds. His eyes take on a dark and dangerous glint. He has something quite wicked in mind, or maybe he’s just thinking very dirty thoughts. Either means much the same as far as I’m concerned. It will hurt, probably, which is just what I need right now. And there’s little doubt I’m going to come hard and fast and often.
“Sir?” I sit up, allowing the duvet to slip to my waist.
Nathan offers me an approving nod as he surveys my naked breasts. “So far so good. Kick the quilt onto the floor, then lie back and spread your legs.”
I do as I’m told, as Nathan heads for the wardrobe and tugs his overnight bag out from the bottom of it. He crouches, then straightens and returns to stand at the foot of the bed. He tosses several objects onto the mattress beside me.
“You’ll need these.” His tone is clipped. He expects me to understand, and to obey.
I turn my head to check the toys he’s brought me. A butt plug, vibrating of course, with a small tube of lubricant and a travel pack of antiseptic wipes. And a tiny bullet vibrator too. Not a massive selection, and I note no spanking toys. Am I disappointed? Perhaps, a little. Today is to be an emotional occasion, a momentous day and I’m not at all sure how it will go. I could have done with the relief of tension, probably.
“Later. If you perform well.” Nathan’s Dom antennae are finely tuned as ever. He knows what I need.
His supple leather belt, one of my personal favorites, is on a chair beside the bed. He picks it up and doubles it into a loop, then winks at me. He holds the strap between his hands, a faint but knowing smile on his lips. I clench my buttocks in a peculiar blend of apprehension and excitement. It’s to be a thrashing then, a decent one if Nathan has any say in it, and of course he does. It should set me up nicely for the challenging day ahead.
“Thank you, Sir. What would you like me to do?”
“Whatever you like, as long as you come within the next three minutes. I intend to make myself comfortable right here and watch your show.”
“My show?” I can get myself off pretty efficiently these days, I’ve been expertly trained. But I vastly prefer Nathan’s hands on me to my own.
“Don’t be obtuse, Eva. You’re wasting time. You have two minutes and forty-five seconds, or my belt goes back in the bag.”
He’s threatening to withhold my spanking if I don’t shape up. And I’m actually reaching for the butt plug, panicking. How my perspective has shifted.
I squirt a good dollop of the gel into my palm and smear it all over the plug, then reach between my legs to wipe the excess around my anus. I pump another generous helping onto the fingers of my right hand, and roll onto all fours to better reach my arsehole With my knees spread wide I know my pussy and arse are on perfect display for Nathan as I slip one slick finger into my anus. The sphincter opens at once and I push a second finger in too, then a third. My opening is stretched, burning a little, but it’s a sensation I love and I wriggle my fingers in and out to further loosen the ring of muscle.
I can’t see my phone from this position, but I judge maybe a minute has elapsed. I withdraw my fingers and grope beside me for the butt plug. I can’t find it. I pat around on the mattress, conscious of the seconds ticking by
.
“To your right a little.” Nathan’s low tone reaches me, and I follow his guidance to locate the plug.
“Thank you, Sir, “I whisper as I grab it and position the toy in my hand ready to insert into my hastily prepared arse. I balance on my knees and one elbow as I reach back to place the blunt tip of the plug right at the entrance, then press on the end. It slips in without much in the way of resistance, slowing a little as the widest part forces my entrance to open more. I breathe in, then out again, before pushing hard to seat it fully inside. It settles in place, my ring of muscle closing to grip the neck.
I press the ‘on’ switch located at the very end, and the vibrations ripple deep inside me, a steady, pulsing beat. I prefer a faster throb, something a bit more forceful, so I hit the switch again, and again to ramp it up further.
I sigh, loving the familiar feel of the toy stretching my inner walls and humming away inside. I rotate my hips, squeezing my pelvic muscles around the hard, sensual intruder, all the while conscious that Nathan can see everything from his vantage point at the foot of the bed. My pussy is swollen, wet, dripping with arousal, and he is witness to every tremble, every shiver.
Every needy, desperate clench as I rush to meet his demands.
I reach for the bullet, intending to ram that against my clit to produce the fast-track orgasm he has demanded, but I hesitate. I want something gentler, something to savor if only briefly.
“How much time do I have left?” I murmur.
“Enough.”
I allow myself a contented sigh as I lay my fingertip across my clit and start to rub. My movements are leisurely at first, circling, caressing the swollen bud as it grows beneath my touch. This won’t take long.
I increase the pressure, every sensuous stroke intensified by the insistent pulsing deep in my arse. My clit is quivering, desperate for release. I draw my fingers across the tip once, twice, then pinch the sensitive bud hard as Nathan likes to when I’m about to come.