Over the Knee

by Ashe Barker, Lily Harlem, Katy Swann, Wendi Zwaduk, Lucy Felthouse, Dolly Watt

  She turned away, only to be greeted once more with the sight of James studying the ginger root.

  James frowned, glanced at her then at Raif.

  Has he guessed?

  “Apparently, ginger is very easy to grow in the garden,” Sir said, taking the root from James and setting it back on the saucer. “And it’s planted peeled.”

  “Really?” Sarah said, taking a careful sip of wine. “How interesting. I never would have guessed.”

  Sir smiled at her. “Yes. I thought I’d give it a try and see how it goes.”

  Cassandra fidgeted with hair and her ass clenched at the thought of where it was going to get planted later.

  “Look,” Cassandra said, “Sarah and James brought rioja.” She passed Sir the bottle, which had wire netting over it.

  “Thanks,” Sir said, smiling at James. “This will go perfectly with steak.”

  Chapter Two

  Cassandra watched Sir pour himself a glass of red wine. He then poured white for her.

  “Shall we?” he said, indicating the dining room.

  “I’ll bring the starters.” Cassandra picked up two of the prawn cocktails.

  “Let me help.” Sarah did the same.

  James and Sir carried the drinks, and they all wandered into the dining room.

  Gentle piano music tinkled around the four walls, which were painted a rich burgundy. Sir’s phone sat on the docking station and it was her favorite pianist playing.

  She glanced his way.

  He was looking at her.

  She smiled. He’d know why she was smiling—that it was a thank you for being so thoughtful.

  They all took their seats, sitting next to each other’s partner. Cassandra put her hands on her lap and lowered her head.

  “Thank you, Lord, for good food, fine wine and delightful company,” Sir said, “and know we are eternally grateful for everything that you give us. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Cassandra murmured. She kept her hands on her lap.

  Sarah, James and Sir picked up their cutlery.

  “It’s been so busy at the office this week,” Sarah said. “Cassandra and I have been chasing our tails to keep on top of everything the customers want, haven’t we, Cassandra?”

  “Yes. We have.” She smiled and watched Sarah pop a prawn coated in pink Thousand Island dressing in her mouth. It looked delicious.

  “It’s this new Rawlings account, they’re very demanding,” Sarah went on after she’d swallowed.

  “I’ve heard of them,” James said, tearing off a chunk of bread roll.

  Cassandra looked at Sir.

  He was looking at her.

  He took a sip of his wine and stabbed a prawn.

  Cassandra licked her lips. When would he say it?

  “Aren’t they based in Taunton?” Sir said, putting the prawn in his mouth then chewing slowly. “Rawlings?”

  Say it soon.

  “Yes, that’s right,” Sarah said, reaching for the butter to spread on her roll.

  “I thought so,” Sir said. He looked at Cassandra and bowed his head a little. “Eat, Cass, it’s delicious,” he said.

  “Yes, S—”

  “Your favorite,” he said quickly.

  She was glad of his interruption. She’d nearly slipped up and called him Sir. How would she have explained that to her friends?

  He fixed her with a steely gaze. It lasted only a second then he engaged in more work talk with Sarah.

  Cassandra picked up her fork and started on her meal. She’d displeased him with the close call. She should know better than that. She did know better than that.

  He wouldn’t forget it either. It would come up again later, likely to be worth a spank to each buttock.

  She took a sip of wine and looked at him. Not that a spank on each buttock was a bad thing. In fact, just two seemed distinctly lacking.

  A wicked idea came to Cassandra. She wondered if she could up that tally during the evening. Get a few more spanks. Maybe he’d spank her with the ginger plug in place.

  Oh God, the thought of that— It was so—

  A crumb caught in her throat. She coughed and spluttered then reached for her drink.

  James patted her back. “You okay?”

  “Yes, yes,” Cassandra said. “Fine, thank you.” She glanced at Sir and took a sip of water.

  He had concern in his eyes.

  “I’m fine,” she said again.

  Later she would tell him why she’d spluttered, and it wasn’t because Sarah was talking shop and she’d had more than enough work for the week. It was because she had an image of herself tipped over Sir’s knee, ginger in her asshole and her buttocks turning red under his ministrations.

  The thought of the fiery ginger scared her. The thought of the spanking thrilled her. What would it be like to combine the two? Yes, maybe she should misbehave a little.

  “This is really tasty,” James said, indicating his bowl, which was nearly empty. “Haven’t had prawns like this for years.”

  “It’s very seventies, isn’t it,” Cassandra said. “My mother used to make this whenever she had dinner guests. If there was any left over it was a real treat for us to have it the next day.”

  “Mmm, yes.” Sarah put down her cutlery and wiped her mouth on her napkin. “I think my mother did that too.” She smiled.

  Sir finished his food and rested back. “James,” he said, “you must tell me about Cape Verde, how was the holiday you and Sarah took there?”

  “Amazing,” James said. “Perfect beach holiday and guaranteed weather.”

  “It looked beautiful, Raif,” Cassandra said. “Sarah brought one of those photo books into work, the ones you get made up.”

  “Yes, I know the type.” Sir looked at her. Of course he knew the type, he’d made one up of her last year. It was nothing like Sarah’s book, though. Not a beach or a cocktail in sight. Sir had been going through a stage of enjoying Shibari rope bondage, and had taken numerous pictures of her in various states of knottage.

  Cassandra had enjoyed the whole process immensely. Feeling bound and so dependent on him had sent her into a state of mediation as he’d worked the ropes around her body, harnessing her limbs and wrapping her breasts so tightly that they’d swelled.

  No, the book Sir had in his special cupboard was nothing like the one Sarah had brought into work and it was most definitely for their eyes only.

  “Would you like to see it, Raif?” Sarah said. “The book’s in the car. I could nip and get it.”

  “That would be lovely.” He looked at Cassandra. “Because if Cassandra is a very good girl I might take her there.”

  James laughed.

  Cassandra kept her attention on Sir. Would he really take her on a beach holiday? She’d been talking about it for a while.

  If I’m a good girl.

  Well, in that case, she’d just have to make sure she was a very good girl. She’d forget about being bad for extra spanks and do her upmost to please him.

  Sir reached for James’ bowl and stacked it on his own.

  “Let me help,” James said.

  “No, it’s fine. Cassandra will help me.”

  “Oh, okay.” James glanced at Cassandra.

  She looked away and reached for Sarah’s dish.

  “In that case I’ll help Sarah find that book,” he said, a slight frown line between his eyes.

  “Well, you’ve got the keys in your pocket,” Sarah said. She held out her hand. “I can manage, though, if you pass them here.”

  James stood. “No, I’ll come with you. It’s dark out there.”

  “You just want a sneaky smoke,” Sarah said with a laugh.

  James grinned and shrugged. “You know me too well.” He glanced at Cassandra. “Do you mind?”

  Cassandra smiled and shook her head.

  “No, not at all,” Sir said. “It will take a few minutes to fry the steaks anyway.”

  The front door clicked shut as Sarah and James headed to the
front drive. Sarah smoked too and as Cassandra went into the kitchen she knew it would be five minutes or so before they returned. Perfect amount of time to load the dishwasher and start on the main course.

  The kitchen door shut behind her.

  Cassandra turned, surprised.

  Sir was staring straight at her.

  “Put down the plates,” he said. “And get over here.” He made a come-hither gesture with his right index finger.

  A flash of heat went through Cassandra. She knew that tone of voice. What had she done wrong? Was it the slip-up of nearly calling him Sir? Oh, and just when she’d decided to be as good as she possibly could be.

  She set down the plates and moved to him. Her heart was beating fast.

  His dark eyes flashed, desire and dominance burning from them.

  “What is it, Sir?” she asked quietly.

  He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her. He then backed her up so her spine touched the closed kitchen door. His right hand rested over the hollow of her throat, his big fingers spreading wide. He pressed his chest to hers.

  Cassandra stared up at him. He looked so handsome and strong in his black shirt, and the feel of his hands on her made her want to melt.

  What is he going to do?

  “You nearly called me Sir in there,” he said, his lips almost touching hers.

  “I’m sorry, so sorry, Sir. I guess it’s such a habit. It was an accident.”

  “And how would we have explained that to our guests?”

  “I don’t know, Sir.”

  “They’ve seen the ginger root that I’ve prepared for your ass later, they may have put two and two together, and we’re not ready to tell anyone yet, we’ve agreed that.”

  “Yes, I know. I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “But I don’t think Sarah would guess the ginger root, it’s not how she is, I’m sure.”

  “But it’s how you are.” He slid his free hand over her breast and squeezed. “It’s in your makeup, isn’t it. You’re a submissive, you just want to serve and take what’s given to you.” He kissed her, once, hard and fast. “You want to take it from the Master who loves you, don’t you?”

  “Yes, yes, Sir.” Her belly trembled and her nipples spiked. Their friends were just outside the front of the house and he was talking like this. Touching her like this.

  “I think you need to learn a lesson in self-control,” he said, his eyes narrowing.

  “Yes, Sir. If that’s what you think, Sir.”

  He slipped his hand lower and dragged up the bottom half of her dress, exposing her bare pussy.

  “Are you wet?” he asked, sliding his finger through her lower lips.

  “A little.” Who was she kidding? Her Master pinning her to a door with one hand at her neck and fingering her pussy—of course she was wet.

  “Spread,” he said, tapping her ankle with the toe of his shoe.

  “Yes, Sir.” She did as instructed and widened her stance.

  “You’re going to come now, Cass. Really fast, really, really fast, because we have a meal to prepare for our guests.” As he’d spoken he’d slipped his fingers further between her legs. “And we don’t want to keep them waiting.”

  “Oh, but…”

  He pushed two thick fingers into her entrance.

  Cassandra gasped. Her knees weakened and she was glad of his body supporting her.

  “But what?” he said.

  “But, oh…”

  He’d applied the heel of his hand to her clit. He was pushing in and out of her, rubbing hard too, stimulating her in a fast, deep massage.

  “But nothing,” he said then tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth. He pulled until it stung and her lip was stretched.

  Cassandra gasped.

  He released. “Come, come now on my hand, let me see how wet you are. How much you want me to shove that ginger up your ass later.”

  Cassandra trembled. She gripped his arm and pulled in several quick breaths. He’d never ordered her to come like this before, on a time limit. Could she? Would she?

  What if they open the front door? Try to open this one?

  He was hand-fucking her with vigor. Sweet, moist noise filled the kitchen and she could smell her arousal.

  “Come, come…” he said. “Let it all go, everything. It’s just us. I’m your Master, do as I say.”

  He was right. He was her Master. She didn’t need to worry about anything. It was his job to listen out for Sarah and James, not hers. He would deal with the consequences for both of them if they were interrupted. She could let all of those concerns tumble away, slide from her mind, she just had to feel…

  “That’s it, baby girl,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. “That’s it, go to your special place.”

  She was.

  The pressure was growing. He was building her up so fast.

  His body shook, and his shoulder shifted beneath her clutching hand. He was going for it, taking her there.

  Suddenly she was on the final climb. She sank onto his fingers and thrust her hips at his hand. Wanting more, needing more. She was about to topple into bliss.

  “Yes, yes…” he said, satisfaction rumbling through the words. “Yes, come, oh fuck, so damn hot… So wet.”

  Cassandra panted as release surged through her. Her abdomen tensed and she crunched forward against him.

  He held her up—her supporter, her rock—and pushed her through her pleasure.

  “Oh… Oh…” she gasped against his cheek. “Oh, Sir…”

  “Good girl,” he said, slowing and stroking the column of her neck. “You feel better now, don’t you?”

  She nodded. Not that she’d been feeling bad, but a swift orgasm between courses, so it seemed, was quite agreeable.

  He pulled his fingers from her and slackened his grip on her body.

  The dress fell into place again, and Cassandra pressed her legs together.

  “Look at this,” he said, holding his moisture-coated hand between them. “Girl cum.”

  She was breathing fast, her chest rising and falling and her underarms tingly with pricking sweat.

  “Beautiful,” he said, poking out the tip of his tongue and running it over his shiny fingers. His eyelids fluttered shut and he sighed.

  Cassandra suddenly wished their guests wouldn’t come back, that they’d decided to go home. That way she and Sir could start their serious playing now. Seeing him enjoy her flavor had sent rational thought from her mind.

  She just wanted him.

  “But,” he said, stepping back. “Much as I would like to bury my face in your pussy and sup from you all night long, that will have to wait.” He nodded at her. “Turn around.”

  Cassandra did. She pressed her palms on the door, her legs still shaky from orgasm and her spine a little weak.

  “Your dress is perfect,” he said. “No wet patch, not a hint of the dampness between your legs.”

  “That’s good, Sir.”

  “Yes, it is good, and I want it to stay that way.”

  “Pardon, Sir?” She was confused.

  “In a minute you’re going to sit down again to eat and entertain our guests. When you stand I do not want to see a wet patch. If I do, there will be consequences for you to deal with.”

  “But?” How the hell could she make that happen? Her pussy was soaking, she wore no knickers, the dress was made of silky material, which would show the tiniest spot of moisture.

  “There is no but, Cass. Now go and sit down.” He went to the sink and washed his hands. “I’ll fry the steaks and bring them in shortly.” He paused. “And if there is dampness when I inspect your dress later, there will be trouble.”

  Cassandra stared at his wide shoulders, his neat hips and his small buttocks encased in dark denim. Much as she liked to obey, she had no idea how he thought she’d succeed at this task.

  But maybe that was what he wanted.

  Perhaps, tonight, disobedience was the fun, and trouble the treat.

 
Chapter Three

  Cassandra sat at the dining table squeezing her internal muscles as tight as she could. The moisture there was coating her pussy lips but maybe she could prevent more from seeping out and marking her dress—though chances were it was already spoilt with a dark patch.

  “These pictures are beautiful,” Sir said, shutting the book after spending all the time since finishing dessert looking through it.

  “Yes, and they don’t do it justice,” Sarah said, taking the large hardback. “The real thing is simply stunning. We felt so relaxed when we came home, didn’t we, James?”

  “Yes, completely rejuvenated,” James said. He drained the brandy Sir had poured him. “You really should go there for a break, the two of you. If you’re anything like us you’d love it.”

  “If you enjoyed it then I’m sure we would.” Sir looked at her. “What do you think, Cass? Would you like to feel the sea on your body, the waves washing over your toes?”

  Oh God, as if she wasn’t wet enough. Here he was talking about the ocean. “Yes,” she said quietly. “It would be heavenly.” She was beginning to ache from tensing, from trying to keep the moisture in. But what if she had to stand, go to the kitchen? She was pretty sure there was already a wet patch, but if there wasn’t and she gave up now…

  “A holiday does us all good,” Sarah said. “We all work hard.”

  “Indeed.” Sir gestured to James’ glass. “Would you like another?”

  “Oh no, thank you.” He glanced at his watch. “In fact, we really should be going. Have you finished your coffee, Sarah?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Sarah looked at Cassandra and smiled. “Thank you for a really wonderful evening.”

  “Thank you for coming. It’s nice to be able to chat without work getting in the way. The phone ringing all the time or Boris shouting for us to do something.”

  Sarah laughed. “You’re right there.”

  James stood and pushed his chair in neatly.

  Sir did the same.

  So did Sarah.

  Sir looked at Cassandra.

  She had no choice but to stand, but if she orchestrated it right, she could keep her back to the wall.