And she didn’t make a sound. Didn’t say a word. Not a moan, not a plea.
It was my turn to get frustrated, and it wasn’t with her. Any other submissive would have broken down and begged for an orgasm by this point. Assuming, of course, she didn’t have reason to believe she’d be punished for voicing such a request.
I reached up and touched her face. Left cheek, right. She released her breath, relaxed just slightly, but kept her eyes closed.
“Do you want me to let you come, Meredith?”
She closed her eyes tighter. She might have even winced, though it came and went before I could be sure.
“Answer me.” I kept my voice firm but gentle enough not to scare her.
Her rhythm faltered. The wince was there this time, I knew it was. Her body relaxed a little more, and not the way I’d hoped. She slid back from the edge. Her orgasm receded from her reach, from mine.
I encouraged her to move faster, and did the same with my thumb on her clit. She fought me, but I coaxed her back, waiting for her breath to catch again before I whispered, “Do you want me to let you come?”
She flinched.
Come on, baby, I know you can do this. “Answer me,” I whispered. “Answer me unless you want me to stop.” I moved a little faster, teased her clit a little more. “Do you want me to let you come?”
She licked her lips. “Yes, Sir, I do.”
“Ask.”
She looked down at me, blinking a couple of times.
“If you want to come,” I said, “you have to ask permission.”
Her cheeks darkened.
“Ask for what you want, Meredith.” I reached for her face with my free hand. Left cheek, right. “I’ll decide whether or not to give it to you, but don’t be ashamed of asking.”
She didn’t speak.
“All you have to do is ask.” Which is asking you to move a mountain now, but I know you can do it. I know it’s there. Talk to me, baby.
Once again, her orgasm started to slip out of our reach, but she dug her teeth into her lower lip and fucked me harder, pressing her clit against my thumb. Against the rules, yes, but she’d picked her battle, and I wasn’t letting her lose this one.
“Just ask, baby,” I said. “All you have to do is ask.”
She gasped, throwing her head back. Nearly sobbing, she said, “Please, Sir…”
I rubbed her clit a little faster. “Please what?”
“Please, may—” Her breath caught. Arousal and shame vied for dominance in her expression, in the tightness of her lips and the creases between her eyebrows.
“Ask for what you want, Meredith.” I struggled to keep my own voice even. There was no way in hell I’d let myself come before she did, but I was so close, so damned close. “Say it, baby. Whatever you want.”
She gasped. Licked her lips. Then, she screwed her eyes shut and whispered, “Please, may I come, Sir?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t make a sound. In slow motion, one vertebra at a time, her spine straightened while a silent breath slipped through her parted lips. Her pussy squeezed my cock—oh God, she was so tight, so fucking tight—and I grabbed her hips and fucked her as hard as I could from below until I couldn’t hold back anymore.
I groaned and held her hips against me until I was sure every last aftershock had passed. I relaxed. She relaxed. With a soft whimper, she collapsed over me, panting and shaking. I wrapped my arms around her, closing my eyes and stroking her hair while I fought to catch my breath.
When she pushed herself up on to her shaking arms, I reached up and touched her face with the backs of my fingers. Left cheek, right. She closed her eyes and smiled, pressing her cheek against my hand like a cat.
“You’ve done very well,” I whispered. When our eyes met, I grinned. “You’re going to be a fun submissive, Meredith.”
She smiled, her already flushed cheeks darkening a little more.
“Doing okay?” I asked.
She looked at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “Very much so, Sir.”
“Good.” Left cheek, right. “I’m not Sir anymore tonight. Now come here.” I kissed her gently and ran my fingers through her hair.
After a few minutes, she lifted herself off me so I could get up and take care of the condom. Once it was gone, we got into bed together and she rested her head on my shoulder.
“I’m not used to such a gentle Dom,” she said.
You’re not used to anything that can be called a Dom. I kissed her forehead. “I’ll get rougher as time goes on, when I’m sure you can handle it. Assuming you want me to, of course.”
“Funny you should mention that, actually.”
“Why’s that?”
“Leslie and I talked a little about pain play the other day.”
“Oh?”
She shrugged. “Just starting to get into the subject. I’m still not quite sure what I want there, or when I’ll be ready, but I’d like to try flogging again at some point.”
“Is that something you’d want to try sooner than later? I mean, given what he did to scar your back…”
“That’s exactly why I want to try it,” she said. “Because of what he did. But, like I said, I’m not sure when. Eventually.”
“Just let me know.” I kissed her forehead again. “But there’s no need to rush. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know you’re not.” She looked up at me. “And thank you. For everything.”
I smiled. “You’re welcome, babe.”
Chapter 10
After a couple of sessions of very basic training like that, Meredith was ready for more. She expressed some interest in the dungeon, but I preferred to stick to safer, more comfortable ground until she was accustomed to having her boundaries pushed. Every time we did this, we risked stirring up the hornet’s nest of demons in her mind. Everything had gone smoothly thus far, but anything could happen.
So when I pulled the deerskin training flogger out of my backpack, we were in the safe, familiar confines of her bedroom.
“This is probably the gentlest one I own.” I held it out to her. “Here. Feel it.”
Chewing her lip, she reached for it. She held her breath as she closed her fingers around the leather-wrapped handle. She swallowed and ran her fingers through the tails of the flogger. They were thick, made of soft deerskin, designed for thud with almost no sting. I could leave welts with it if a sub wanted me to, but I wouldn’t tear up her back like a cat o’ nine tails once had.
She handed it back to me.
“Are you comfortable with this?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes, I think so.”
“You think so?”
“I am.” She eyed the flogger warily, then looked at me. “Just, go slow.”
“I will.”
She took a breath. “How do you want me?”
I looked around the room, trying to decide on a place to flog her. Holding the sides of the doorway? Hands on the footboard? Palms to the wall?
“Are you comfortable kneeling?” I asked.
She nodded.
“That’s what we’ll do, then.” I stepped closer to her. “You ready for this?”
Another nod.
With the backs of my fingers, I caressed her face. Left cheek, then right. Her shoulders dropped slightly, and a second later, so did her gaze. When I did it again—left, then right—she closed her eyes and exhaled.
“Look at me.” When she did, I said, “Tell me your safe words.”
“Red if I want to stop,” she whispered. “Yellow if I want you to back off, Sir.”
“Good girl.” Left cheek, right. In a voice that was firm, but gentle enough to avoid unsettling her, I said, “Kneel.”
She did, keeping her knees apart and heels together for balance. Though I hadn’t prompted her to, she clasped her hands loosely over the small of her back. Maybe it was a habit, maybe it was simply more comfortable for her, maybe she was instinctively protecting her kidneys. Whatever the case, I chose n
ot to correct her for taking that step when I hadn’t commanded or allowed it.
I gathered her hair and laid it over her shoulder, exposing her back. She took a few slow, deep breaths.
I knelt in front of her, touching her face again—left, cheek right—and whispered, “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “Just nervous.”
“You know you can stop this at any time, right?”
Another nod. “Safe words. I know.”
“Tell me again what they are.”
“Red to stop, yellow to back off.”
“Do you want me to continue?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
I cleared my throat.
“Yes, Sir,” she corrected.
“Good girl.” Left cheek, right. I kissed her forehead, then rose and I walked around her, watching her posture and muscles for any sign that she was more than just a little nervous. Tension occasionally rippled beneath her scarred skin, but her breathing was slow and even. When she clasped and unclasped her hands over her lower back, they were steady. No trembling, no white-knuckled fists. So far, so good.
I raised the flogger, then brought the tails down on my own palm.
The instant leather cracked against my skin, Meredith released a cry that stopped my heart. Her hands went to her face, and she slumped forward, shoulders bunching and her entire body trembling violently.
I threw the flogger on the bed and dropped to my knees beside her.
“No, no, please don’t, I’m sorry,” she sobbed into her hands when I touched her shoulders. “Please, don’t, I won’t, I’m, I’m—”
“Shh.” I put my arms around her. “Just breathe, baby, I’m right here.” My heart pounded, my stomach turned, and I willed my hand not to shake while I stroked her hair.
Though she tried to shrink away, she didn’t fight me. It was a safe bet she was afraid of me. Not me, but the man her damaged psyche had superimposed in my place, the one she thought I was just then. Fear paralyzed her, kept her from flying or fighting, and all she could do was beg me not to hurt her.
“Shh, I won’t hurt you, baby. I’d never hurt you.” I continued stroking her hair. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Meredith, you’re not being punished.”
“Thank you, Master,” she whispered. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth at the sound of that fucking title. Just as I’d feared, she heard my voice, but she wasn’t here. She wasn’t in this time and place. All I could do was continue to soothe her until she came back to me.
“I’m sorry, Master, I’m sorry, I won’t… please, Master… I’m sorry…” Every time she said that title, the one he’d demanded in spite of never earning the right to do so, my heart sank deeper and my blood boiled hotter.
“You’ve done nothing wrong, Meredith.” I kissed the top of her head, fighting to keep my emotions in check, to stay calm and even-keeled for her. “You’re not being punished. Everything has stopped. I won’t do anything until you tell me you’re ready.”
Finally, she took her hands away from her face and lifted her head. As soon as I saw the opportunity, I took it, caressing both sides of her face in turn with the backs of my fingers. The effect was almost immediate. Her breathing slowed and she melted against me, clutching my shirt in a death grip as I held her gently.
“Just breathe, baby,” I said. “I’m right here. I won’t hurt you.”
Taking and releasing a deep breath, she sat back. Then she looked down at herself. At her violently shaking hands. Around the room. And finally, at me. She blinked. Swallowed. I couldn’t recall ever seeing her look so lost.
I touched her face again. Left cheek, right. “You okay?”
She closed her eyes and exhaled as the backs of my fingers caressed her wet cheek again. Slowly, she nodded. “I’m okay.” She twisted a crick out of her back. “I need to move, though.”
I put my arm around her waist and we both stood. She was still shaking, and while I couldn’t tell if it was adrenaline or cold, I took no chances. Her bathrobe hung on one of the bedposts, so I grabbed it and wrapped it around her shoulders.
Together, we sat on the edge of the bed.
She wiped her eyes and sighed. “I feel really, really stupid right now.”
“No need to feel stupid, baby.” I kissed her cheek. “But, what happened?”
“That sound…” She shuddered.
I ran my fingers through her hair. “When I hit the flogger on my hand?”
She nodded. “I didn’t know that would happen, I…” She paused. “Rich used to punish me this way. On my knees, with the cat o’ nine tails. And he’d hit his hand a few times first. Just like you did.”
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t think it would have that effect on me. Jesus, that was crazy. I was doing fine, and then I heard it hit your hand, and I was… there.”
“But, you knew being on your knees like that, and having me hit my hand with the flogger, that was something he did?”
“I didn’t know you’d hit your hand.”
“Still, baby, you have to tell me this stuff. I went through a similar thing with—” I paused. “With another sub.”
“What happened?”
“She knew she was claustrophobic, but thought she could handle the Saint Andrew’s Cross. That, and she was embarrassed to tell me about her claustrophobia.”
“So what happened?”
I shuddered at the memory of Krissy’s collapse into panic. It wasn’t nearly as bad as Meredith’s, and I’d calmed her in short order, but it had left us both shaken. Whether she ever knew it or not, I was probably more nervous than she was when we attempted the Cross again a while later.
I took a breath. “She panicked.”
“This badly?”
“No, not this badly. But she didn’t have a past trauma to trigger.” I ran my hand up and down her arm. “Phobias aren’t pleasant, but what you’re dealing with is well into PTSD territory.”
“So some of my therapists have said,” she muttered.
“Have you had flashbacks before?”
“Yes.”
“What triggers them?”
“It varies,” she whispered. “The first six months after I left Rich, the smell of leather or a certain kind of coffee could send me into a panic attack. Usually, once I figure out what’s set me off, I can work towards getting used to it again.”
I glanced at the flogger beside me. “I assume leather doesn’t bother you anymore?”
She laughed. “No. I’m not quite ready for a car with leather interior, but it’s getting better.”
“And coffee?”
“Is fine.”
“When I started, did you have any concerns it might trigger something like this?”
“No, I didn’t make the connection. I thought being with you, it would be different, but when I was on my knees and heard it again, it was…” She shuddered.
“Too close to home?”
“Way too close.”
I trailed my hand up and down her back. “I know we’ll be retracing some of the steps you took with Rich, but I need to know when we do. Even if you don’t think it’ll trigger anything, please, talk to me.”
“Okay.”
I kissed her forehead. “He conditioned you to be afraid of him. Even after all this time, your mind still connects being on your knees and hearing that sound with a frightening, brutal beating.” I ran my fingers through her hair. “There may be other things like this. Just tell me if anything connects with him. Anything at all, no matter how ridiculous you might think it is.”
“I will,” she whispered almost inaudibly.
“And with time, I’ll condition you too,” I said. “To submit to me without fear.”
“I’m not afraid of you, Scott. You know that.”
“No, but we’ll eventually condition the fear reaction out of you.” I lifted her chin and kissed her lightly. “I don’t want you to be a
fraid at all while you’re submitting to me, whether it’s me you’re afraid of or someone else.”
She was quiet for a moment. Then she looked at me, her reddened eyes filled with the kind of stubborn determination they’d often had in the past. “I want to do it again.”
“We will.”
“No, I mean now.”
I blinked. “Right now?”
“Yes.”
“Meredith, we—”
“Scott.” She put her hand on my knee. “I need to get him out from under my skin.”
“I know, but we should take this slow.”
“I understand, but now that I know he still has this hold on me, it’s like…” She bit her lip while she searched for the words. “It’s like having a coat of slime all over my skin, and I need to get it off.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. I knew her. She had the kind of fierce—and stubborn—determination to force herself through anything. There was no doubt in my mind she wouldn’t be able to rest easy until we’d pushed through to the end of this. She was hellbent on getting back on the horse that had thrown her, but it was up to me to decide if she was more likely to break her neck or finish the ride.
Hello, rock and hard place.
I cradled her face in both hands and kissed her gently. “I don’t want to make you panic like that again.”
“I won’t.” She swallowed hard. “You’re here.”
“I was here before.” Lowering my voice, I added, “I’m here, but so is he.”
She set her jaw. “Then we need to get rid of him.”
I exhaled slowly. “Are you absolutely sure you’re ready for this?”
“Yes,” she said.
I searched her eyes for the hesitation that was absent from her voice. When I found none, I took a deep breath. After hemming and hawing over it for a long moment, I rose. “Okay. We will. Just tell me if you want to stop.” I inclined my head. “And if I suspect a problem, I may put a stop to things myself. Understood?”
She nodded, but said nothing.
I held out my hand. She took it and stood. Once she was on her feet, she started to shrug off the bathrobe.
“Wait.”
Reconstructing Meredith (Light Switch Book 2) Page 11