Wanting Wilder (Safe Word: Oasis)

by Zurlo, Michele

  Wilder had a handsome group of friends. Lydia could see how the foursome would have an easy time finding willing submissives.

  They chatted for a little longer, each of the men speaking directly to her instead of launching into topics only they would understand. She appreciated their consideration of her presence and her newness. Often being introduced as a submissive to a group of new people meant they ignored her and spoke only to her Dom.

  That didn’t seem to be the case, as the pattern repeated throughout the night. If anything, Wilder ended up standing silently at her side while she conversed with new colleagues. She appreciated his low-key approach, especially since he never reversed his insistence she check with him before speaking to anyone.

  She also noticed he never again failed to promptly give that permission.

  The evening flew by. She met too many people to be able to remember them all, which irritated her to no end. Part of the plan Wilder had foiled included accessing personnel files so she could memorize names, faces, and positions.

  Random faces whirled through her head as they drove home, specters rising against the dark backdrop of night, and she tried to attach names. Sometimes she met with success, but even then she doubted many of her matches. Defeated, she propped her elbow against the window and rested her forehead on her hand.

  “Tired?”

  The single-word question didn’t halt the flow of images, but it did penetrate the thick tension pressing in on her. Whether she was tired or not, she wouldn’t be able to sleep when she was this high-strung. “I’m just trying to remember names and faces.”

  He chuckled quietly. “You met more than fifty people, Pet. Nobody expects you to remember them without some prompting.”

  But they would be touched and pleased if she did remember them, especially those with whom she’d spent less than a minute in exchanging pleasantries. It made a difference. “I expect me to remember them, but I can’t, and it bothers the hell out of me.”

  He reached over and rested his hot hand on her thigh. In the dark, he no doubt couldn’t see that he’d chosen a spot where her dress had ridden up when she had shifted with annoyance. The feel of his palm against her flesh sent insistent tingles racing straight to her pussy, and he didn’t shift his position one bit.

  She shouldn’t be having this kind of reaction to Wilder. He wasn’t with her because he was interested in having sex. From snatches of conversation, she had confirmed Wilder’s assertion that nobody had made management without having had at least one fantasy fulfilled. To Wilder, she was nothing more than an assignment. No matter what kind of growing bond she felt with him, she had to keep in mind that he had only chosen her because she hadn’t indicated she wanted anything more than a top.

  Not a single one of his buddies, including his brother, had been there with a submissive. This was a group of men not ready to get serious or settle down.

  “I’m going to punish you when we get home. That’ll get your mind off your worries.”

  While she accepted the first two punishments, she did reject the third. She looked forward to it, but she wondered if it would be enough. She squeezed his hand where it still rested on her thigh. “Thank you for staying so close to me. It really helped keep my nerves calm.”

  He turned his hand to hold hers. “You’re welcome.”

  How could she ask for a scene when she barely knew him and he had already planned her punishment?

  Chapter Six

  The drive back to the apartment didn’t take long. He gave her ten minutes of personal time before he required her to be naked and in the living room. She washed the makeup from her face and hung her peach dress to be dry-cleaned. Lastly she swept her hair into a knot so it would be out of the way. She hoped to hell he was planning a good, thorough punishment. Exhaustion would ensure a good night’s sleep, and she wanted to be bright-eyed for work in the morning.

  He’d better let her go to work in the morning. If she didn’t think he’d make good on his threat to spank her in front of her coworkers, she might have entertained the idea of disobeying if he forbade her from going.

  Emerging from her room, the first thing she noticed was the complete transformation of the far half of the living area. Two soffits divided the room into thirds. She had assumed they hid vents or plumbing, but she was wrong about one of them. Chains dangled from what apparently weren’t access panels, but panels that housed winches.

  Wilder had pushed aside the two upholstered chairs that, with the sofa, completed a cozy L shape that focused on both the fireplace and the television. With the lights dimmed and the huge area rug folded out of the way to reveal the rich finish of the walnut floor, the moment took on a whole different quality from the night before. Where that bondage experience had been strangely sanitary and intimate at the same time, this seemed so much more momentous.

  He was going to punish her. Thoroughly. Perhaps he sensed that she needed a heavy hand tonight. Wilder stood near the accent table he’d pushed against the wall, working a pair of scissors through heavy plastic. She knelt behind him and prayed for subspace.

  Though she fastened her gaze to the floor near her knees, she saw his body twist as he turned in her direction.

  “Remind us of your safe word, Pet.” He spoke gently, no trace of anger at her misbehavior evident.

  “Oasis, Sir. May I ask a favor?”

  He chuckled, and she searched the short sound for signs of his temper turning bad. “You’re so bold. I’m about to punish you, and you have either the courage or the audacity to ask a favor?”

  Pointing out that she didn’t see much of a distinction between the two probably wouldn’t be productive right then, so she kept that morsel to herself. Plus, he sounded amused, not angry. She’d better only push him as a last resort. “Yes, Sir. If you’ll allow it.”

  With one finger under her chin, he lifted her face so that she looked up at him. His eyes seemed darker, almost black in the soft light. “I’ll allow it.”

  She took a chance. “Sir, after you punish me, will you…” Her courage fled. How dare she ask anything from this man? He owed her nothing. Even if he had owed her something, she didn’t know if he was the kind of man who would deny her request as part of the punishment. Once she’d thought she knew him, but that had proved to be not true. The man she thought she knew wouldn’t have run out on her without a word.

  “Lydia, do you have questions about aftercare? I don’t plan to do anything that would leave lingering injuries. You specified that as a hard limit. If something happens, I have medical supplies in the cabinet, and there are more in each of the three bathrooms in this apartment. I will see to your care. If you have specific questions or requirements that weren’t in your woefully inadequate paperwork, now is the time to let me know.”

  She trusted him to not push her limits, and that was part of the problem. Secretly she craved a Dom who would challenge those limits. She hungered for a man to whom she could reveal which of her hard limits were really soft, but that level of trust and respect wasn’t something she automatically issued, not anymore. She’d learned that the hard way.

  “I’m sorry, Sir. I know you’ll see to my aftercare. I wanted to… I wondered if you would… Damn it, Sir. I would like to know if you could send me to subspace.” To help process the helplessness and anxiety she felt about starting a new job in a new state where she knew absolutely nobody. The soup of faces swam in her head, the images blending together to form an indistinct morass, and she hated it. She couldn’t say that out loud, but her mind shouted it over and over, drowning out everything but his response.

  He rubbed his thumb over the item in his hand. She realized it was a nylon cuff, lined on the inside for comfort and almost impossible to escape. Looking at his face, reading the refusal before he said it, would be too much for her to bear. The motion of his thumb on that cuff mesmerized her senses. “I can see you need it tonight. Even a mild punishment would send you to a place that would leave you worse off in the lo
ng run. I’ll punish you in the morning after breakfast. Choose two or three instruments from the cabinet, ones you know will get you there.”

  The decision took her by surprise, and she started. “Sir, I didn’t mean to put off the punishment. I misbehaved twice. I accept the punishment for those transgressions.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t like to mix punishment with pleasure. If you continue to argue, Pet, I will change my mind and not grant your request.”

  While she preferred to get the punishment out of the way, she let it go for now and scrambled to her feet. The walnut cabinet, stained two shades darker than the floor, stood open, revealing a wicked set of torture devices inside. Lydia chose a long-tailed flogger and two canes, one reed-thin and the other about twice as thick. While she had forbidden cuts, she hadn’t outlawed welts. If things went well, she would come out of this with a few.

  He perused her selections with a furrowed brow. “We’re going to need more light. Do you want a blindfold?”

  The half-light provided the perfect ambience. She hated to lose it. “Why will we need more light?”

  “Because, my darling Pet, you have darker skin, which makes it harder to see the marks and colors I’m going to leave behind. It’s for your safety.” He opened a drawer and riffled through the contents. “I’m going to show you a hand signal. My gut says you’re going to need a gag.”

  Lydia hadn’t answered questions regarding gags. After she’d decided she didn’t want to have sex with a Dom, she’d skipped the rest of that very long, very detailed section of questions. And she knew the hand signal, damn it. That was the first thing he’d taught her all those years ago.

  He lifted out a pink ball gag and set it on the accent table next to the cuffs. “Go stand under the chains, facing away from me.”

  She centered herself under the chains she assumed would be used to bind her wrists. He didn’t come immediately. The crinkling of plastic packages continued for a few more moments. Random thuds and short, sharp sounds indicated things being arranged on the table. She resisted the temptation to turn around to see what he was doing. He was doing this for her. Misbehavior would give him adequate reason to send her to her room without the promised beating.

  A giggle bubbled in her throat, but she swallowed it down, making a strangled sound in the process. For some reason, she always got the giggles at the beginning of a scene. The show of nerves had annoyed the hell out of her last Dom. She hoped Sir hadn’t been paying close attention, or if he had, she hoped he didn’t misconstrue the reason for her inappropriate laughter. It hadn’t been a problem when she’d been with him before.

  Two hot palms seared her lower back. She jumped and refrained from whirling to face him through sheer force of will. “Nervous?”

  She cleared her throat. “Yes, Sir.”

  “You should be.”

  Having expected him to issue reassurances about following her limits and honoring her safe word, she was caught off guard. The giggles began.

  He smacked her ass so hard it forced her forward one step, but it also silenced her. “Yes, you definitely get a gag.” With a firm grip of her hips, he pulled her back into position. The velvety interior of the cuffs caressed her skin. He secured them tightly around her wrists and ankles.

  Next he placed a stiff collar around her neck. It forced her chin high, curving the back of her neck so that her vertebrae could better absorb the motion of the imminent impact play.

  She expected him to secure her wrists to the chain, but he added an extra step. Sliding a long pole through the loops attached to her wrist cuffs and collar, he immobilized her arms so they extended out to each side. He attached the bar to the chains.

  Lastly he fashioned a rope harness, winding it just over and under her breasts and looping it between her legs before he also attached it to the chains. It would help her stay vertical, especially because he bound her ankles and knees together. She could sag or pass out, and the pressure wouldn’t be borne by the collar around her neck.

  He came around to the front, surveying the way he’d bound her with a critical eye. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her. Did he see the artful knots or the strategic and functional placement of the ropes? Was she just another submissive whose skin would bear the marks of his attention?

  Did he notice her face or see her soul hiding in her eyes, or did he just see a willing body? Lydia pushed aside her doubts and focused on the scene to come. Her mind would soon be in a peaceful place only accessible through the right kinds of pain.

  At last his gaze met hers. Half of his mouth lifted in a smirk. “Bondage suits you, Pet. Ready to scream?”

  Due to the collar, she couldn’t nod. “Yes, Sir.”

  He held the ball gag against her lips. Though she would have opened for it, he squeezed the pressure points on her jaw, forcing it open before shoving the pink ball into her mouth. Excitement coiled low in her belly at the way he coerced her to bend to his will. She moaned, already on her way to bliss.

  Then he looked into her eyes and captured her attention, pulling it away from the growing desire she felt. “No blindfold. I want to see your eyes. Blink once if you understand, twice if you don’t.” She blinked, but his gaze had shifted to her hand. He arranged her thumb and forefinger into an O shape. “That’s the signal for Oasis. You do that, and I’ll stop. Blink once if you understand.”

  She blinked again.

  “Wiggle your fingers and toes.”

  The safety check marked a responsible Dom, but Lydia resented him a little for it. Part of her yearned for a wild, rough, completely uninhibited experience where considerations for safety and comfort were thrown completely out the window. If he did that, she would be able to hate him, and that would help her get over him.

  He said something under his breath and disappeared behind her. The living room was long and narrow. Banks of floor-to-ceiling windows flanked a fireplace that divided the homey part of the room from the high-class dungeon part of the room. Lydia ignored the windows that pretty much looked out onto a wall of trees. In the daytime, the window had shown a cornucopia of fall colors. Right now, the light reflecting against the glass turned it to smoky mirrors.

  She wanted him to start the flogging immediately, but she should have known he wouldn’t. Wilder was very much into taking his time. He began with his fingertips on her skin. He traced them across all the flesh that would soon feel the bite. She exhaled and relaxed, surrendering to his timetable. Thought she didn’t want it to happen, her pussy responded to his tender touches. After far too long, he severed contact and stepped away.

  Air stirred near her backside a second before the flogger cracked sharply against her skin. The sound was worse than the bite, but she expected him to begin slowly. Heat traveled along the length of each leather fall, waves of calm that soothed her nerves and sent excitement pulsing between her legs.

  Sensation moved up her back and down her thighs to heat her calves. By the time he made it around to her front, she needed to rely on the ropes to help her trembling muscles hold her upright. He whipped the fronts of her thighs and skated over her mons and stomach, causing pleasant warmth to permeate from every inch of her skin.

  Though his eyes belied his intention, she still jerked when the falls licked the tender sides of her breasts. She moaned loudly, the sound muted by her gag. He paused briefly, studying her eyes and checking to see if she was signaling with her hand. This kind of attention ramped up her libido like nothing else, but she didn’t attempt to limit his access. Perhaps one of her limits might have dictated he avoid her breasts, but she honestly couldn’t remember.

  Where the ends of the falls landed on her nipples, they stung like a pinch or a clamp. Lydia lifted her hips, tilting them up, begging to feel the sharp caress there. Too bad he’d tied her legs together. Too bad she’d banned that kind of contact.

  By the time he disappeared around her again, the beginning stages of subspace had started to manifest. She recognized the subtle discon
nect that preceded the floaty feelings. The individual stripes of sting on her body merged to radiate as one continuous ball of heat.

  Liquid fire lashed her right and left calves in quick succession. She shouted as loud as she could, completely uninhibited because she wore a gag. The molten slashes moved up her legs, hitting the fleshy parts of her body so quickly she couldn’t register one before he delivered another.

  Darkness, blessed and free, pressed into her mind. Lydia fell headfirst, embracing the bliss of nothingness.

  THOSE DELICIOUS SHOUTS morphed to low moans that eventually ceased altogether. Wilder recognized the moment she gave herself over to subspace. Her entire body relaxed, slumping so that the sling he’d fashioned provided the support her legs no longer gave.

  He hadn’t yet used the thicker cane she’d set out. With her firmly in subspace, that cane wouldn’t see any action tonight. He came to a stop in front of her, admiring the swell of her breasts and the way the ropes above and below accented them. While he’d turned her back to a beautiful ruddy shade, crisscrossed with darker stripes from the cane, her natural endowments were far more beautiful than any artificial additions.

  He laughed softly, amused to find himself drawn more to her body than to what he did to it. “Pet, how are you doing?”

  As he expected, she didn’t do more than open her eyes and stare at him with a blank expression. He removed her gag and tossed it to the table against the wall behind her. She wouldn’t need it anymore tonight.

  Then he untied her legs. He didn’t know how quickly she’d recover, but he wanted her to have the use of her legs. Next, he slid the stiff pole out from the loops attached to the cuffs on her wrists and collar.

  A vague consciousness, evidenced by the fact she didn’t collapse, had returned to Lydia by the time he freed her from the harness. He lifted her into his arms, and she smiled at him, bliss lightening her eyes almost to hazel. Glory, but he wanted to kiss her.