Bring On the Heat

by Eden Bradley

  He had plans for the minicrop, but first it was time to test Callie’s erotic pain threshold. He loved pushing Callie’s limits. Every time he did, she made him proud. He’d never met anyone like Callie, and he cherished her submission. Picking up his full-size crop, he swung it a few times and watched as Callie tried not to flinch at the sound. The end of this crop was made of firm leather about an inch across in a nice triangle shape. It was good for his intended purpose because the tip didn’t collapse. If said tip was too flimsy, it wouldn’t do this job properly.

  Starting with the first clothespin he’d put on, he flicked it with the crop, and it fell off, leaving a pink set of two lines behind. Moving around the table to get the proper angle for each clothespin, he systematically knocked each one off her breasts as Callie let out a series of moans and groans punctuated by the occasional grunt. As he worked, Jack watched her facial expressions for any sign of true distress but saw none. He also kept an eye on the scarf in her hand to make sure she didn’t drop it.

  Next he moved lower. She’d kept her legs spread so far, but he knew once she felt the crop near her pussy, it would be very difficult to keep them that way. He considered for a moment whether he should let her struggle or if he should use a spreader bar and take away the temptation. There were merits to both. If he didn’t use the bar, it would reinforce her submission to have to willingly and consciously keep her legs open for him, but if he did use the bar, she would feel more helpless. Jack began to lightly massage her undoubtedly aching tits while he debated with himself.

  After a few minutes, he made his decision. Leaning down, he kissed her forehead and said, “I’m just going over to the armoire for a moment, beauty. I’ll be right back.” Instead of grabbing his spreader bar, though, he chose a suspension apparatus. Coming back to Callie, he attached cuffs to the ends of the steel bar, closed her ankles into them, and then used the chain that made the other two sides of the triangle to pull her legs up to a ninety-degree angle. Climbing on the table, he fastened the chain to a D ring mounted in the beam above. He then checked the angle to make sure her back was still flat and hopped down.

  His Callie was spread before him like the best, most sumptuous buffet he’d ever seen. Walking over to where her head lay, he took the gag out of her mouth and set it aside. “I’m going to test you today, beauty. What we’ve already done is just a prelude of much more to come. Are you ready?”

  Callie licked her lips and Jack nearly lost it then and there. “Yes, Sir.”

  Leaning down, he plunged his tongue into her mouth and kissed her. Cupping her face in his hands, he deepened the kiss even farther, trying to get inside her any way he could. Finally he came up for air. “You delight me, beauty. How are your arms and wrists feeling? Any pain? Numbness?”

  “They’re fine, Sir.”

  “Then I’ll continue.” Picking up the riding crop from where he’d dropped it earlier, he swung at each of the clothespins clipped to her labia. Without the gag in her mouth, she gasped and made other little sounds each time the crop descended. When her pussy was free from pins, he flicked the tip right over the lips themselves several times before exchanging it for the minicrop. He’d never used a minicrop on a sub before, and this one had a more flexible end, but he’d spent a couple of hours this morning practicing with it, as the palm of his hand and his left leg could attest.

  Reaching out, he spread her labia until the opening of her pussy came into view. He flicked the crop right on it, and Callie grunted, biting her lip. He did it again, and then a third time. He stopped. Pulling apart her ass cheeks, he heard Callie’s swift intake of breath. “Oh yes, beauty, what you’re thinking is exactly what’s going to happen.” Without preamble, he laid three light strokes with the crop right on her anus and then looked up at her face. Her mouth was open, but she wasn’t crying or screaming, so he gave her five more strokes, harder than before, and then moved back up and struck her clit with several blows. He saw her pussy contract and warned, “You do not have permission to come. Obviously you need more pain.”

  He began raining blows all the way from her clit to her pussy to her ass, striking quickly before moving on to the next target. Callie moaned and began to thrash in her bonds, but still he kept at it, wanting to know how much his little beauty could take. His dick was increasingly uncomfortable inside his pants, but he refused to take them off—it would be too tempting to end things and plunge into her sweetness, and he wanted Callie to come first. She was a bit of a pain slut, and he knew if he kept on, she would explode. Sweat was pouring off her, and he continued until she was truly straining. He didn’t want her to hurt herself, so he dropped the crop on the table and pushed two fingers inside her, curling them up to rub her G-spot. “Come.”

  Callie arched off the table, screaming as her pussy contracted rhythmically around his marauding fingers. He continued to rub her G-spot to prolong her orgasm, relentlessly working her. Finally she sank back onto the table, her breath sawing in and out of her mouth like she’d run a marathon.

  Jack chuckled. “You can have a little rest, but I’m far from done with you, my little slut.”

  Callie groaned. Jack removed his fingers, sucking her juices off them as he moved to the dimmer switch to turn down the lights. He’d had them on high, so he could see what he was doing, but he didn’t want to shock Callie’s system when he removed the blindfold. Going to the end of the table by her head, he slowly pulled the piece of fabric away. She blinked up at him, her eyes focusing after a moment.

  He removed his clothes and climbed up on the table. Taking a firm hold on Callie’s legs, which were still attached to the suspension bar, Jack pushed into her and let out a sound he hardly recognized as coming from him. Reaching down, he pulled the snowflake shields off her nipples, and she groaned as the blood came rushing back into her sensitized tissues.

  Immediately he began to saw in and out of her with long, heavy strokes, gripping the suspension bar itself to get maximum leverage. It didn’t take long for his mind to empty of anything but the exquisite pleasure of having his cock inside Callie. All too soon his addled brain registered the impending climax, and he gave in to it, pushing all the way to her womb to empty himself into her. Callie moaned as his orgasm went on and on.

  He got off the table on unsteady legs and redressed, then returned to Callie, undoing the restraints before carrying her to the living room. Laying her down on the couch, he then went to get a glass of water for both of them. Myriad thoughts crowded into his brain all at once while he watched Callie lying in a heap on his sofa. None of them were anything he was prepared to discuss. He didn’t want things to end in a few days, that was for damn sure. His heart was screaming to offer her forever, but his head was arguing equally hard that he couldn’t make her happy, that the fairest thing to do would be to let her go. He snorted. No fucking way was he was going to just sit by and let her leave this time, no matter if it was the right thing to do or not.

  Returning, he gathered Callie onto his lap, wrapped in a fluffy blanket, and handed her the water. She drank from it and wiped her mouth with her hand before turning to him. “I dropped right into subspace when you started taking off the clothespins. I’ve never dropped that fast or felt anything like it—quite a rush. You were using a crop, right?”

  Jack nodded. “I thought maybe you had. Your sounds were different. How do you feel now? Dizzy? Disoriented?”

  “No, just tired.”

  “Would you like to take a nap?”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  “Of course I don’t. I’ll get some work done and make dinner.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “What? I’m not a bad cook.”

  Callie shifted in his arms, and he couldn’t help thinking how natural she felt there. “I don’t doubt that—you’re not bad at anything.”

  Jack barked out a bitter laugh. “You and I both know that’s not true.”

  “You’ve never offered to cook for me before.”

  “Well, now I am, so take ad
vantage of it.” Callie began to move off his lap, and he found himself saying, “Use my bed. It’s more comfortable.”

  “The bed in the playroom?”

  “No, my bed. In my bedroom.”

  Callie slid him a look, then nodded. No doubt she was as surprised at hearing his suggestion as he was at making it. She walked out of the room, still naked. Jack sighed and ran his hands over his face. How could he reconcile what the two halves of him wanted? And if he did, how would she react?

  ~ * ~

  NINE

  Callie woke up feeling disoriented and looked around through scratchy eyes. She was in Sir’s bedroom, snuggled up in a bed that smelled like him—a hint of cologne and something most easily identifiable as simply “male.” She pulled the end of the pillow toward her, inhaled deeply, and sighed. There was something about the way Jack smelled that just drove her crazy.

  She hadn’t paid much attention to his bedroom earlier, as she’d been half-asleep, but took a moment to look around now. He’d always kept her away from here, preferring to scene in his playroom, and she felt a bit like a voyeur seeing his inner sanctum now. Navy walls set off the bamboo floors, which were covered in strategic areas with thick throw rugs the same color as the walls. His king-size bed with a navy comforter rested on a brown leather platform with a matching brown leather headboard. Dark wood end tables sat on each side of the massive bed, and a pair of sconces provided lighting from above.

  A low, wide dresser with a large, ornately framed mirror hanging over it was opposite the bed, and two taller chests of drawers stood next to each other along another wall. His bedroom furnishings didn’t surprise her—he was a man’s man, and his bedroom reflected it. A door on one wall led to a master bathroom. Callie could only see the tub from where she was, but it looked gloriously large. She debated running in there and locking the door behind her to take about a five-hour soak, but her hunger and curiosity about what Sir had made for dinner had Callie rising in search of him.

  She found him in his home office poring over a stack of papers. Black, angular frames were perched on his strong nose, and Callie stopped at the room’s threshold to admire his beauty. He would surely scoff if he knew she had just described him as beautiful, but his perfect, tanned skin, coupled with his dark hair and intense dark eyes, put him in unique territory. She hadn’t missed the admiring looks students and faculty alike had bestowed upon him as he’d strolled down the hallowed halls of the university like he owned the place.

  Clearing her throat, she watched as he gradually pulled his attention away from the paper in front of him. She loved his dedication to his students. When a student was the object of his attention, that student felt like the only human being on the planet; in fact, it was what had led to her initial decision to submit to him. Callie knew without a doubt that during any scene, she would be the only thing on his mind.

  “Hey. How did you sleep?”

  “Like a rock.”

  “I hope you’re hungry. I went a little nuts.”

  Callie crossed her arms over her breasts and watched as his gaze tracked the movement. “What did you make?”

  “It’s a surprise.” Rising, he said, “Come.” He strode back to his bedroom and reached behind the bathroom door. Withdrawing a black fleece robe, he draped it around her shoulders. Then he went to the dresser and took out a pair of wool socks. “Sit down.”

  Callie smiled but didn’t argue. If Sir was going to allow her some clothes, she wasn’t about to complain. He put the socks on her feet, and they both laughed as she was nearly swallowed up by them. After pulling her up, he knotted the robe at her waist. Keeping her hand tightly clasped in his, he went into the kitchen. He lifted her to the counter a few feet from the stove, and she settled in to watch him work. Two pots sat on the stove, one bubbling merrily and the other waiting to be used. Going to the sink, he filled the empty pot and set it on the burner, turning it to high. He then went to the island next to her and pulled the towel off a loaf pan.

  “Ah, that’s what I smell…” Callie purred. Sir smiled and neatly knocked the loaf onto the cutting board. He sliced off a few pieces and handed one to her, still warm. Callie sank her teeth into it and moaned. “Wonderful,” she managed around a mouthful of yeasty bread.

  He returned to the stove, smirking at her before returning his attention to the pots in front of him. “Hopefully that will keep you happy until dinner is ready.”

  “Mmhmm…”

  He lifted the lid and stirred something that smelled a little spicy, but Callie couldn’t quite place the scent. “What’s that?”

  “Well, the whole thing is going to be Mexican spaghetti. My mom gave me the recipe when I moved out, but I only learned how to make it within the past year or so.”

  Callie had forgotten his mother had some Hispanic blood—he looked so Italian, she never even considered that some of his looks may have come from her. “Mexican spaghetti? Do tell.” Callie folded her legs underneath her and settled in to listen.

  “Well, it’s basically a meat sauce with beef and chorizo, which is a spicy sausage, a bunch of other spices, and some beer. You mix it with the pasta and put pepper jack cheese on top.” He turned to her. “You’re okay with spicy stuff, right?”

  “I love spicy.”

  “I really enjoy making this dish. The only problem is, it’s hard to scale down the recipe, and so it’s a waste to cook it just for me. I like that you can appreciate a little spice.” He winked at her, and she didn’t know what to make of this suddenly playful mood. Jack had never acted like a… She glanced at him again, narrowing her eyes. Like a boyfriend. He’d been her Sir, her Dom, her Master, but he’d never been her boyfriend. He’d fucked her in every conceivable way, but he’d never made love to her.

  Suddenly he turned away from the stove and speared her with an intense gaze. “What’s the matter, baby?”

  Callie hated that he could read her so easily. Wait, baby? What the hell? “Why are you acting like this?” She’d blurted the thought out before she could stop it and now clapped a hand over her mouth as her eyes widened.

  He cocked his head to the side, his expression blank. “Like what?”

  She gestured toward the stove, the robe. “Like a boyfriend.”

  “Maybe I learned a little something about women in the past few years.” With that cryptic statement, he turned back to the stove and stirred the sauce again. Was he angry? Upset? In his Dom persona, she had no trouble figuring out what he was feeling because he always told her. But now? Now she had no clue.

  He cooked, and she watched. When it was done, they sat down to dinner at his kitchen table like a perfectly normal couple. They’d never been normal, though. Sure, Sir had always taken care of her after they’d done a scene, snuggling with her and making sure she drank some water, but this was different. It felt weird, and yet so right. If she got her hopes up about a future like this and he rejected her, she wasn’t sure if she would survive the heartbreak. When Callie looked at Jack lounging across from her at his small café table, though, her heart wanted to believe. Oh, it wanted to believe so badly.

  As they ate, he asked about her life now, what she was writing, where she was living. There was an unspoken question contained within the quiz, though—How tied are you to Baltimore?

  They finished eating and did the dishes together in companionable silence punctuated only by brief interludes of “that goes there” and “hand me a new towel from that drawer.” When the dishwasher was loaded and the pans had been washed, he jerked his head toward the living room. “Shall we?”

  Callie followed and paused, not sure if she should sit on the couch or kneel in front of him as she customarily would. She got her answer when he pointed to the floor at his feet. Sinking down gratefully, her world began to right itself again. This was a role she understood how to play. He gathered her hair up and placed her head on his thigh, gently massaging her scalp. Relaxing her tense shoulders by degrees, she let him work his strong fingers into h
er head and neck muscles.

  She’d nearly fallen asleep when he cleared his throat. “Look at me, beauty.” Her gaze rose to his face, and her brow furrowed. He looked so serious. “Don’t be afraid. I just don’t want there to be any misunderstandings concerning what I’m about to say.” Leaning back so she could face him, she waited for him to speak. Jack cleared his throat again. Was he nervous? She’d never seen him so uneasy, and it made her nervous to see it now. “I’d like you to spend the night, to be with me in my bed.”

  After studying his face for a moment, Callie nodded. “All right, Sir.”

  “I want to play, but not like we normally do—I want to take my time and worship your body as it should be adored. You are my Christmas present to myself, and I intend to enjoy you as the precious gift you are. There will be no pain tonight, only pleasure. Do you understand?”

  “I-I think so, Sir.” Callie’s head felt heavy and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was still sleepy or if she was simply unable to process the changes in Jack. Either way, she wanted her head in the game and worked to focus her addled brain.

  “Good. Let’s go then.” He rose and pulled her up, but before they moved from the living room, Jack pushed both hands into her hair and brought his mouth down to hers. When he finally pulled back and she could focus again, he looked every inch a stalking predator. His eyes flared with heat as he stared at her, and she shivered. Abruptly he picked her up and walked out of the room. Arriving in his bedroom, he laid her on the bed. “I need to get my gift-wrapping supplies. Stay there. Oh, and lose the robe.”

  Despite his spirited, lighthearted mood earlier, it didn’t occur to her to disobey him. After shucking the robe, Callie flopped onto her back and reached her arms over her head as she stretched. She was still a little stiff from earlier, but her nap had definitely helped.

  Jack came back into the room carrying a big pile of stuff and set it all on the foot of the bed. Callie started to look down, but he said, “Uh-uh, eyes up.” Dutifully she raised her gaze until she was staring at the ceiling. Her arms were still above her head, and she heard him chuckle. “My perfect little submissive. Already in position to be restrained.” Glancing at the headboard, she frowned. The leather wasn’t exactly conducive to bondage. As if he’d read her mind, he continued. “Don’t you worry, beauty. I’ve got a plan.”