BDSM Connections - The Complete 4 Novel Series

by Claire Thompson

  Stepping behind her again, he set the flogger on the small table and picked up the single tail. He flicked it through the air beside her, the sound causing her to flinch, her muscles automatically tensing in anticipation of its sting.

  The first stroke landed on her ass. Unlike the sensual flogging, the whip cut across her skin like a blade, leaving a line of fire in its wake.

  Rylee hissed her pain. She still managed to keep the chain between her teeth, and saliva drooled down her chin. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure Taggart could hear it.

  The whip snaked out once more, its tail curling cruelly over both ass cheeks so that the tip bit into the thin skin stretched over her hipbone.

  Despite her best intentions, Rylee’s mouth opened of its own accord, and she screamed, the chain falling away.

  Taggart appeared in front of her. “Focus, R. You can do better.”

  Tears blurring her eyes, Rylee nodded.

  He lifted the chain that hung between her now completely numb nipples and touched her lips with it.

  Rylee forced herself to open her mouth. Taggart pushed the chain onto her tongue, and Rylee closed her teeth over the wet metal links.

  She tried to keep her eyes on the image of his face in the mirror as the whip licked over her ass and the backs of her thighs.

  It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

  Why had she thought she wanted this? How could she possibly endure any more?

  Even as these rebellious thoughts crashed into her brain, she became aware of the deep, urgent tug of pure, raw desire deep in her sex.

  More, more, more.

  As her skin adjusted to the fiery onslaught of the whip, she became calmer. She hadn’t realized she’d risen on her toes, but she now made a conscious effort to lower her feet until they were once more flat on the ground.

  Behind her, Taggart nodded approvingly, sending a rush of warmth through her soul.

  He put down the whip and picked up the leather paddle. Though Rylee knew from experience a paddle could pack a serious wallop, she was at the point where, in spite of her fear, or perhaps partially because of it, she was primed and ready to receive its leather slap.

  Or so she had thought.

  The first strike covered the entire surface area of her ass in one savage blow. Pain exploded like stars, knocking the breath from her lungs and the chain from her mouth.

  He struck again, the force of the thrust pushing her body forward as her heart crashed into her ribs.

  She screamed.

  Again and again the paddle pounded against her flesh, reverberating in her bones.

  She could hear herself whimpering and knew she was dancing and twisting on her toes, but was completely powerless to control herself. Yet, no matter how much she flailed and cried, she couldn’t escape the relentless pounding of the all-encompassing paddle.

  Above the thumping crash of her heart, she heard Taggart’s deep, gravelly voice. “Let go. Let the pain flow through you. Let it lift you into its arms. Do it for me, R. Surrender to me.”

  His words penetrated her trembling panic like a flame shining into the darkness.

  All at once, she was enveloped in a velvety, encompassing warmth.

  Her body stilled, her feet lowering of their own accord to the floor, her clenched fists unfurling above her bound wrists. Her head was heavy, too heavy to support and she let it fall back, her lips parting, her eyes closing.

  “Yes,” Taggart breathed behind her. “That’s it, R. You’re almost there.”

  The paddle nearly lifted her from the ground with its force, but the pain had gone. Or not gone precisely, but transformed into something loftier and more rarefied than simple erotic pain.

  Rylee felt at once heavy and light. Her feet were planted firmly on the ground, her muscles no longer twitching, her heart beating in a slow, steady rhythm like the pounding of the funeral drum. At the same time, she was as light as air, as if her spirit were hovering above her body. It was a lightness of being, of freedom so absolute she thought she might float away altogether, were it not for the rope and Taggart’s deep, steady voice keeping her tethered to reality.

  “Yes,” he urged. “That’s it. You’re there. I can feel it too. I’m with you. Don’t be afraid to let go. I’ll keep you safe.”

  She became aware the paddling had stopped, but her spirit continued to soar on wings of pure and utter peace.

  Taggart’s arms encircled her from behind. He touched the clamps that still held her numb nipples tight in their grip.

  “Stay where you are. Don’t let this distract you.”

  Two small explosions of pain at her nipples nearly jerked her from the heavens, but Taggart’s hands immediately covered and cupped her breasts, his lips brushing the side of her neck in a sweet, caressing kiss, and the pain ebbed away like a half-forgotten dream.

  She had no idea how long they stood that way, Taggart embracing her from behind, his strong, warm body pressed against her. Her eyes closed, Rylee drifted in a peaceful, powerful place she had never known existed, until now.

  At some point—it could’ve been minutes or it could’ve been hours—she became aware of a tugging at her wrists.

  With supreme effort, she lifted her head and opened her eyes.

  Taggart no longer held her. His arms extended, he was plucking at the knots that held her wrists overhead. As the rope fell away, her leaden arms dropped, but Taggart caught them and lowered them gently to her sides.

  Wrapping his arm around her waist, he guided her gently to the mat, positioning her so she was on her hands and knees.

  He crouched behind her and leaned over, his mouth close to her ear. “Stay like that, R. I’m going to fuck you now. Your cunt is still tender, so I’m going to claim your ass.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Rylee replied, her voice a hoarse whisper. Though she had drifted back to earth, the deep sense of well-being still pervaded her senses. She waited patiently as Taggart rose, stepped away and then returned to her.

  He was naked, tall and gorgeous, a tube of lubricant in one hand, his erect cock fisted in the other. Crouching again behind her, he squirted some of the lube on the head of his cock. Guiding himself between her ass cheeks, he nudged against the tight pucker of her asshole.

  Rylee tried to gird herself for the pain she knew accompanied initial anal penetration, but her body was still too relaxed to comply.

  Taggart pushed slowly but carefully past the tight ring of muscle at her entrance. Strangely, there was no sudden burst of pain as he slid into the tight glove of her anal passage.

  Taggart groaned behind her and reached for her hips, pulling her back onto his cock until he was buried to the hilt inside her.

  His pubic hair scratched against her bruised and tender ass, his balls slapping her welted flesh, but instead of resisting the erotic discomfort his movements caused her, she welcomed it, taking it deep inside along with his cock.

  As he swiveled and thrust, the motion sent a spiral of pleasure deep into her loins. When he released her right hip and his fingers found the hot, pulsing nubbin of her clit, Rylee moaned, a shudder moving through her core.

  They moved together in a primal, kneeling dance, Taggart rocking behind her as his fingers, light as butterfly wings, flew over her sex. It wasn’t long before the overwhelming pleasure completely obliterated any lingering pain.

  As the wave of a powerful climax rose inside her, Rylee wanted—no—she needed—to ask permission of this man, of her Dom.

  “Please,” she gasped. “May I come, Sir? May I come for you?”

  “Yes,” he gasped in turn. “Come for me.”

  Rylee let the tumult of her orgasm sweep her into its encompassing grip as Taggart released himself deep inside her.

  He fell heavily against her and they collapsed together to the mat, both of them panting, their bodies slicked with sweat, their hearts pounding. Sliding his arms beneath her, Taggart rolled to his side, taking her with him, his cock still inside her.

/>   Rylee could have lain there forever with Taggart nestled against her back, his hands lightly cupping her breasts as their hearts and breathing slowed. It took her a moment to identify the wild, careening feeling that was ricocheting through her being like a shooting star.

  It was happiness—pure joy.

  The feeling gave itself voice as she opened her mouth. “I love you,” she said.

  Taggart didn’t reply.

  Chapter 12

  Taggart opened his eyes, for a moment confused as to where he was. His left arm was numb, caught beneath Rylee’s inert body. They were nestled together on the yoga mat like two spoons in a drawer. Rylee’s breathing was deep and even, her naked body warm against his.

  He carefully pulled his arm from beneath her and moved back until they were no longer touching. As he pushed himself to a sitting position, Rylee sighed and rolled onto her back. “Ouch,” she said, shifting quickly to her stomach. She cradled her head in her arms and said sleepily, “My butt is sore.”

  Taggart leaned over to see. There were still welts on her ass and the backs of her thighs from the single tail, though none of them was especially severe. Faint bruises were already showing from the paddling, which would darken over the next few days.

  Taggart ran his finger lightly over one of the welts. “You took quite a beating. There are still marks.”

  Rylee pushed herself to her elbows. “I want to see.” She stood, her back to the mirror, and looked over her shoulder to regard herself. “Awesome,” she breathed. “I love them.”

  Taggart nodded. “They’re definitely hot. Everything but the bruising will be mostly gone by tomorrow. I’ll have to whip you every day. You should always be properly marked.”

  Rylee turned back from the mirror to gaze up into Taggart’s face with those turquoise eyes. Her expression was intense, even pleading. “Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.”

  Taggart turned away, suddenly uncomfortable, the words she’d said earlier sliding back into his brain.

  I love you.

  Rylee hadn’t struck him as needy or clingy. She was strong and confident, comfortable in her own skin. That was one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place. She’d only said it in the heat of the moment. The experience had been so all-encompassing, engaging all the senses. Subs sometimes confused the power of submission with love. It was understandable.

  Yes, that was it. She wasn’t in love with him. She was in love with what they had shared. And that was a good thing, since he had loved it too.

  Pleased he had resolved the issue, Taggart glanced at his watch. “It’s after six. Are you hungry?”

  “I’m starving.”

  “Feel like pizza and beer? There’s a great little joint not far from here.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  Rylee took the first bite of the mushroom, onion and pepperoni pizza. Her eyes closed, joy suffusing her face as she chewed.

  “Good, right?”

  “Fabulous.” She reached for the pizza tray, pulling it toward herself. “What about you? What are you going to eat?” She kept such a straight face that for a moment Taggart thought she was serious, until he saw her dancing eyes.

  She did manage to eat four slices, along with two mugs of beer. Taggart admired a woman with a good appetite.

  When they had polished off the pie and the pitcher, Rylee said, “Ready to talk business? I’ve been thinking about your website. I have some ideas and suggestions.”

  “Sure,” Taggart agreed. “I guess I better get my butt in gear and produce more inventory so we actually have something to sell on the site.”

  “Agreed. Maybe now is the time to call in those two guys you mentioned and see if they’re interested in something more permanent.”

  “You’re right. I’ll call them tomorrow and at least see if I can hire them for the week to get a jump on my inventory.”

  He lowered his voice, his eyes suddenly glittering. “They’re also both into the scene. They’re professional Doms and they often work together when training a sub.”

  “Together?” Rylee asked, surprise on her face.

  “Yeah. Apparently, they each bring something different to the equation.” He reached across the table and placed his hand over Rylee’s. “While they’re here, you’ll still be expected and required to submit as it pleases me.”

  Rylee lifted her eyebrows. “What do you mean? In front of those guys?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”

  Rylee bit her lower lip, an anxious look moving over her face, though she said nothing more.

  Taggart took her hand in his and turned it over. He stroked her palm with his thumb. “Relax. I have every intention of respecting your limits. I will push your boundaries, but I’m not going to do anything that compromises you in any way.”

  Rylee released her lip, the tension draining from her body.

  It occurred to Taggart that only a day before she might’ve refused outright, or shot back some kind of sassy refusal. She had certainly come a long way in only twenty-four hours. His core belief in her innate submissive tendencies was reaffirmed.

  When they returned home, Taggart brought Rylee to the dungeon, pleased when she automatically stripped just inside the door and knelt on the welcome mat awaiting his command.

  He showed her several basic positions he expected her to master over the course of the week, including standing presentation for inspection, kneeling up and kneeling at-ease, prone welcome, and various offering, examination and sexual usage positions.

  They spent about an hour reviewing the basics. As Rylee moved, spreading her legs, lifting her arms overhead or gripping her elbows from behind, rising from a kneeling position and then lowering herself until she was prostrate on the floor, Taggart admired her lithe, muscular frame and the smooth curves of her body. He had to force himself to focus, his hardening cock distracting him at times from his task.

  It was clear toward the end of the hour that she was tired, her muscles fatigued, her focus waning. Yet through it all, she never protested or asked to stop.

  “That’s enough for tonight,” Taggart finally said. He held out his hand to pull Rylee upright. “You did well. It’ll take more practice until you’re able to respond automatically to each position command with grace and speed, but you’ve made a very good start tonight. I’m pleased.”

  Rylee beamed at him, her dimples showing. “Thank you, Sir.”

  Unable to resist a moment longer, Taggart took her into his arms and kissed her for a long time, his hands roaming her back and ass as he pulled her against him.

  They made love again in bed. He was careful with her, aware her cunt might still be sore from the straddle board. The coupling was sweet and tender, something Taggart wasn’t used to, but found he quite liked. Sometimes vanilla was a nice change, especially with Rylee.

  As they lay side by side afterward in the light of a nearly full moon outside the window, Taggart’s mind eventually drifted toward the upcoming week. “It’ll be a challenge to mix training and work, but I’m sure we can manage it with a little creativity. I have to pick up some new hides in the morning. I’ll see if I can hook up with Steve and Zach, too. Maybe I’ll just shackle you naked to the bed while I’m running my errands, so you can be waiting for your Master when he returns,” he teased.

  Rylee snuggled against him. “As sexy as that sounds, I actually have work to do, too, even before I can start on your website. And I need to stop over at the college so I can clear my coaching schedule. I could swing by my apartment and grab some more clothing and stuff, too.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Do you have a long skirt you can bring? Something that’s not too confining.”

  “A long skirt?” Rylee echoed. “I think so, yeah. But why?”

  “No questions. Just do as I ask.” Taggart kissed the top of her head and then gently disengaged himself from their embrace.

  “Let’s go to sleep now.” He reached into his nightstand drawer and pulled out a p
air of wrist cuffs. “You’ll wear these every night for the duration of your training. They will remind you that even while you’re sleeping, you belong to me.”

  Rylee’s face, silvered in the moonlight, softened with what Taggart could only describe as a submissive glow as she held out her wrists. “Yes, Sir,” she sighed happily. “Thank you, Sir.”

  ~*~

  In the morning, Rylee got into her own car, the house key Taggart had given her on her keychain. She followed Taggart back into the heart of Portland, veering away with a wave as she headed toward the college. She played the radio loudly, singing at the top of her voice along with Adele as she drove.

  After clearing her coaching schedule for the rest of the week, she stopped by her apartment. She went into her small bedroom and found a long skirt in her closet, intrigued and excited as she wondered what Taggart wanted it for. She thought about bringing more clothing, but decided she’d packed enough the first time around for the rest of the week. After all, when they were at Taggart’s house, she was mostly kept naked, she thought with a delicious shiver.

  She was glad they were both self-employed and could manage their schedules with some flexibility. The submissive training was fun and exciting, but also very intense and all-encompassing. In a way, she wished they could have cleared the week entirely of all work, but they both had deadlines to meet.

  She watered her plants and opened the refrigerator. There wasn’t much in there that would spoil, except some milk, which she dumped into the sink. She grabbed an apple and closed the fridge.

  No, it was better like this. Work, especially with others present, would give them both a chance to mentally regroup. Surely the level of intensity they’d shared so far couldn’t be sustained. As it was, she was moving too fast.

  I wish I hadn’t said it aloud.

  Before returning to Taggart’s place, she swung by the martial arts gym. As she entered the familiar space, her muscles loosened, her body automatically preparing for a workout.