"You're welcome, sweet sub girl," he would reply.
Chase's hand was still on her mons.
"Spread your legs," he commanded, and she obeyed.
He slipped his fingers into the cleft of her sex, stroking her, immediately arousing her.
"Are you ready for the cane, sub girl?"
"Yes, Sir," she whispered, hoping this was true.
After breakfast they went into his bondage room. Chase had moved the portable suspension triangle into the
center of the room. She'd been completely suspended from it before, held safe in a rope body harness, wrists and ankles securely cuffed to the bars.
Today, however, Chase did not bind her.
"I just want you to hold on. The bars give you something to grip.
Lean forward and take hold. Ass out, but not too far. You can take the cane more easily if you're closer to a standing position.
That way the muscles are relaxed."
He stroked her ass as he said this, cupping the cheeks and then giving her a playful swat.
"Don't look so serious, sweetheart. This is for you, for us. This is our next step. I'm going to cane you and you're going to fly.
Then I'm going to make love to you. Does that suit you?"
"Yes, Sir." Kate smiled.
She did understand now, and embrace, her need for erotic pain.
He'd introduced her to the flogger, the crop, his hand when she lay over his knee. Sometimes during the sessions he bound her in very tight, difficult positions, other times he had her maintain her own position, admonishing her to maintain it when she fell out of line after a particularly cruel stroke caught her skin. She almost found the bondage easier, in that she wasn't required to exercise her own will. On the other hand, she appreciated Chase's sensitivity regarding the caning. Brighton had bound her, leaving her helpless to resist him. He'd ignored her cries and even her safeword. Chase, she knew, would never ignore her, focused as he always was on the slightest nuance of her reactions.
She gripped the bars and leaned slightly forward. Chase moved behind her, wrapping her body in his arms.
"My beautiful sub girl," he said.
"Are you ready to suffer for me?"
Kate shivered in his arms, but nodded. "Yes, Sir."
He retrieved the cane, a larger, thicker cane than the one Master John had used.
"A beginner's cane," he had explained to Kate.
"The thinner canes are whippier and can cut the skin.
You'll see this one is easier to take."
He started very lightly, a simple tapping against her flesh, keeping the strokes confined to the fleshy padding of her bottom. She relaxed, leaning her head against one of the bars.
She could do this.
"A little harder now," he warned. She practiced her breathing, slowly in and out, as the strokes began to sting. They were still fast and fairly light, moving steadily with a
thwacking sound. After several minutes of this,
Kate began to feel the warm, buttery feeling easing its way through her body. The sting was real, but it was overlain with a sexual pleasure, an aching desire, that made it easier to bear.
As if he could feel what she was feeling, Chase murmured,
"That's right. Good, Kate. Ease into it. It's time now."
She didn't have time to tense at this last remark before the first real stroke caught her smartly across both cheeks.
"Ah!" she cried as a line of fire made itself felt. He struck her again, just below the first spot and she cried out again.
"Good. Keep your position. Very good, sub girl." Chase's voice had taken on the low purr, laced with steel, that he used when concentrating during a session. The strokes had
hurt, but Kate found herself thrusting back, her skin tingling for another stroke, and another.
Unlike the scene at the BDSM party, here was no panic, no loss of control, no being obliterated by someone else's careless cruelty. Chase was making love to her, as he always did in their D/s play. The cane had become an extension of himself.
Kate opened herself to his loving, fiery attention, feeling her skin burn, along with her pussy, which throbbed.
"Ten on each side," he informed her.
"Don't worry about counting. Just go with it. Become one with it, with me. We'll fly together, my love."
She fell into a rhythm of pleasure and pain, surging and washing over her with each whoosh and strike of the rod against tortured flesh. Her mind went blank. She could
feel music in her veins. There was no longing or hope, or past or future. There was only this moment, this time, now. Her skin turned to fire and she was lost in the brightness. She sailed, she soared, she floated and fell back into his arms...
****
Chase cradled Kate in his arms, his hand on her cheek. He'd caught her as she fell, dropping the cane in a clatter, worried for a moment he'd taken her too far. Then he saw the bliss of angels in her face, and felt the slow, steady beat of her heart against him, and was reassured.
He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom.
He would have been content to let her rest, to let her float in that ephemeral nirvana for as long as she could. But she
reached out for him.
"I want you," she murmured. "Inside me. Please."
Who could resist such a sweet, wanton plea? Mindful
of her welted ass, Chase entered her carefully. He'd been thrilled and humbled by her shaving her pussy for him. He'd never asked her to do that, and he found her lovely either way, but the gesture had moved him.
He held her, moving slowly, savoring her sweet sighs and the patter of her heart against his chest. He kissed her hair, keeping one hand on her cheek as he moved inside her. He could feel her returning from the secret, bright place the cane had taken her to, and felt a pang of regret, but this was soon lost in the pleasure of her body beneath his.
She surged beneath him, undulating in a way that sent ripples of pleasure through him. His balls tightened and he knew he was going to come too fast if she kept it up. He knew she needed more time to reach the pinnacle of pleasure and he wanted to give that to her.
He shifted, trying to diffuse the hot, velvet grip of her cunt around him. But she was relentless, locking her strong legs around him and pulling him deep inside as she continued to swivel and glide beneath him.
"Kate," he managed. "Slow down, I'm going to..."
"I want you to," she whispered back fiercely.
"You, just for you. This is for you, my love. Come for me. Come to me. Come to me, Chase. I belong to you."
He gave in, letting the climax overtake him as he clung to her, nearly faint with pleasure. When he was done,
Kate still beneath him, he tried to move, to give her the chance to come, but she stopped him.
"Lie still, my love. Rest." She stroked his back and he did as she asked, too spent to assert his will.
He appreciated now, perhaps better than he ever had, that D/s was a circle, the submission offered freely, taken with care and passion, returned with fire and love. It wasn't the trappings—the rope, the cane, the gear, that made D/s come alive. It wasn't even the D/s play itself, the erotic torture, the bondage, the claiming of one person by the other. He understood this now in a way he never had with any other woman, or even in his own mind. It was the love that made it
all come alive, that brought it all full circle. That was the heart of submission.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
on
Heart of Submission Page 16