Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Honeymoon In Bondage
by
Lizbeth Dusseau
ISBN 13: 978-1-934349-98-4
ISBN 10: 1-934349-98-4
A Pink Flamingo Publications Ebook Publication
All rights reserved
Copyright ©2009 Lizbeth Dusseau
Part One
Chapter One
Honeymoon Blues
Clouds hung heavy over London, a foggy rain dampening the air. Alain Danvers looked from the hotel window into the bleary lights of the city; he could almost feel the wetness on his skin, his brow, his hands, as if it were creeping through the walls, deliberately turning his flesh cold. Events of the last day – the last two hours, in fact – put him in a mood as grey and dreary as this miserable night. Twenty-four hours before, there had been a brilliant sun and blue skies to welcome them to England, and later after sunset, a rather warm evening for an autumn night in England. But how fast things change.
Alain turned from the window and gazed around the empty hotel room, worried, perhaps; wondering where she was, definitely. His new bride Meredith had taken off in a fit of anger. Not that he hadn’t expected as much. This was to be their honeymoon, a stopover in England to visit a dear friend and then two weeks in Southern Italy, which was all he could spare in his busy schedule. And now, the two week honeymoon had turned into no more than an idle daydream, diminished to little more than a day. Maybe if he hadn’t answered the phone call as they were leaving for dinner…but of course he had, and the call was urgent. Unexpected developments in an ongoing and very sensitive investigation would force their return and a premature end to their trip. She’d been so excited. The new bride, flushed from the romance of her wedding…the quaint chapel…the long slim gown…the veil, the flowers…their first dance.
He was pissed, too, over the swiftness with which their plans changed. But this was the life of a Police Captain and their return to the States was unavoidable. Almost predictably, however, Meredith retreated to one of her more childish behaviors once Alain stated the facts and she fled the hotel room in tears. She should have just stomped her feet and screamed – that might have felt better for them both.
Though their disappointment was palpable, he’d be damned if he’d run after her. Yes, give her time to stew awhile, calm down, come to her senses and hopefully return, that was Alain’s initial inclination. She knew better than to make him suffer, since he had plenty of ways he could make her truly suffer if he were so inclined. He’d rather she come back to him on her own; that would produce a much better result for them both. But forty-five minutes later with Meredith still missing, Alain was growing restless. It appeared that the new Mrs. Danvers, his beautiful brunette waif, was waiting him out; probably nursing a drink in the hotel pub.
But what if she wasn’t there? he wondered.
Another fifteen minutes ticked by, restlessness turned to anxiety. Another dreary gaze out the rain-drenched windows. He’d waited long enough.
***
Meredith had walked in the cold London rain for over a half hour before finally retreating to the hotel pub. Her slight, well-formed body was shivering now, even after the long draught of brandy she’d gulped down. She could think only of how stupid she was, how her emotions had won her over, making her fly down the stairs like an ill-tempered six year old – the elevator just wasn’t fast enough. She’d stumbled on the last step and ignored the burning pain in her ankle, thinking she’d just walk it off while she drank in the fresh air. She hadn’t realized how bone-chillingly cold London could be on a rainy November night. If she hadn’t been so stupidly rash, she’d be snuggled close in her husband’s arms, soaking in the warmth of his body, enjoying the tenderness of his kisses. He was sometimes a difficult man and a hellish master, but he was so good to her and he loved her so. How she ever got him to marry her remained a mystery. The great difference in their ages was enough to have their relationship seem like an unlikely match. And yet, the age factor actually worked to her advantage. She was the submissive female he’d always longed for, while he was the forthright authority to which she was determined to submit. She was his project to love, to lead and to guide. But even though Alain had tried hard to reform her in the last several months, she was obviously still a miserable mess.
‘Calm, you have to be calm, Meredith…’ she told herself. ‘When you’re calm, you go upstairs, you apologize, you make things right…everything will be just fine…’ She repeated the mantra hoping that eventually it would work, and she’d have the courage to return to their room.
Taking another swallow of brandy, she chanced to look up from her corner of the pub, past the drinking patrons and the long gleaming, well-stocked bar to the open door where instinct drew her eye. A shudder far colder than the London night caused her entire body to quake as she saw her husband gazing across the room. His being enveloped her immediately. This was nothing new. Alain’s most pensive, stoic expression was what she would have expected for the occasion. How like him in every way. A staunch Police Captain, a crack detective, a man of self-control, of handsome, classic good looks and an elegant breeding that made her middle-aged husband more beautiful to her than all the hard-bodied young studs women of twenty-four were expected to lust after. No man but Alain could make her shudder as she did now, or raise that tingle of excitement in her crotch, or ignite such a serious fear in her gut. Anxiety and emotion started to rise so fiercely that they were clutching her at the throat.
Oh, how she wanted the next hour to be over! Her mind fast-forwarded to the moment when they would finally tumble in bed together and repair what had been broken between them in the last hours…and yet, the part of her that had singled out Alain Danvers as the man she needed, as a man she could dare love, would savor every one of the next formidable minutes facing what he had to say. She imagined the dressing down, the stern lecture, the punishment, the necessary pain and the eventual catharsis that would make everything right. This was how it worked between them. As her husband approached, her mind flashed through the scenes with another shuddering rush of energy.
Anguished tears formed in her eyes and her shoulders hunched up like a frightened child’s. She winced once he reached the table.
“You know, Meri, even when you look like a drowned rat, you’re still beautiful?”
The comment instantly cut through the moment of panic with a bit of sanity.
“Am I?” She sank back deeply into the leather booth and gazed up through wet lashes at Alain’s face. He seemed not half as angry as she expected him to be.
“Of course.” He smiled.
“But you…you are angry, aren’t you?” She really needed to confirm this fact.
“You’re right, I’m not too happy with your behavior.”
“And…you’ll…spank me hard, won’t you?” she asked in her weakest voice.
“If that’s what you need.”
“I’m so sorry, Alain.”
“I’m sure you are, Mrs. Danvers.” His voice had been low and comforting, but now there was an edge that they could both feel in a visceral way. “Come now.” He held out his hand for her and she slowly peeled herself off the leather seat, his arm going protectively around her waist
as he led her upstairs to their room.
***
“You’re disappointed,” Alain began after pacing for several minutes before his penitent wife. If a dressing down was what she expected, he was certainly in the mood for it. Although he started with a simple retelling of the facts, just as he might when interrogating a suspect. “After the emotion of a dizzying romance and a wedding that almost didn’t take place, you’re finally here in London, alone with me…maybe it seems like the first time in weeks. And suddenly we’re going home before the honeymoon even begins…”
She sat on the bed, in pretty much the same cowering position she was in when he found her in the pub. Her clothes were wet, her hair a straggly tangle of brunette curls, her dark make-up running down her cheeks. A sad little girl.
“Is that how you see it, Meredith?”
The question made her look up.
“Yes, sir.” They both knew how right he was.
“And because you’re so disappointed to learn that we have to leave, you take off like an angry three-year old who just can’t have her way. You leave me in the room for an hour, wondering where you are. As it turns out you’ve taken off into the London night, which I wouldn’t call safe, and then don’t have sense enough to come inside once you’re drenched to the skin. I expect more from you Meri,” the tenor of his lecture became more intense. “Good god, you are my wife now, and though I know that will take some getting used to…and though I realize that you still have a ways to go in maturing, I did expect a little more from you tonight.”
Obviously, the emotion of the last weeks had gotten to him, too. He had not expected so much anger to rise over this very simple misbehavior. She’d committed far worse crimes since they’d been together. Her impulsive behavior was almost expected given the circumstances, but once down the road, they both knew there was no turning back. It was how it worked between them.
“I’m just as disappointed as you are,” he went on as his emotions continued to rise. “I wanted this honeymoon more than you know. Work has been hell the last year…and you have been my one bright spot. But we both knew that we were practically sneaking away to get the time together. We talked about what might force me to suspend the trip. You knew the possibilities before we left. You knew and still you react like a spoiled brat!”
“You’ve spoiled me, Alain,” she quietly accused him.
He could feel the thunder behind her subdued manner, that feral burning in her gut that almost felt like an attack.
“Have I spoiled you?” That was an intriguing thought, enough to make him stop pacing. “Is that because I haven’t punished you for all the rash and petulant behavior of the last couple weeks? Is that spoiling you?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head, unwilling to commit herself.
She often got like this just before he punished her, when she acted as meek and clueless as a brainless twit – which she wasn’t. He knew she was baiting him and maybe that pissed him off more than anything – maybe. But it was certain that an impasse like this had only one solution. He was fuming, his sadistic soul feeding off the natural masochist in her.
“Well, I certainly don’t want to spoil you now. This will be punishment earned. Now get up!”
Meri quivered for a moment, then rose on shaky legs, hardly able to keep her balance with her feet still tucked in four inch heels. Her wet clothes still clung to her skin, so that she should actually welcome his next command, “Take off the clothes.” She probably wished that she could shed the terrible chill as easily.
Slowly she stripped, layer after layer of soggy garments dropping to the floor until every one down to her bra and panties were heaped up in a messy pile and Meredith stood before him naked. Seeing the way she trembled, it would seem that the cold chill had still not fled.
Although Alain appraised her judgmentally, it was difficult to ignore the physical lust that his nude wife routinely ignited in him. How easy it would have been to break the spell of master and sorry penitent. She was a long-legged, lithe and sensuous beauty, with a face he could stare at for days and not tire of. Her features were perfectly sculpted, the dark and deep set eyes, the perfectly formed mouth, the high cheek bones.
No! No!, not this time! he vowed, and he ended his admiring reverie. He’d forgiven her lapses on too many occasions in the time leading up to their wedding. It was a tense time for any woman. What he realized now was that Meri had likely needed a little strict discipline during those testy days, but he’d let much go by without comment. How could he have messed this up so badly? he wondered for just a moment before he clipped off his next order. Like a soothing balm the words of dominance came back to him. This was what their relationship was built on and this was where they needed to go.
“On your knees, to the closet, bring the ropes back – in your teeth,” he added for good measure. “They’ll be in my bag.”
He could see that she was glad to move – the shivering girl suddenly turned into a frightened but excited woman as she quickly dropped to her knees and crawled toward the closet where her husband kept his bag of tricks. Alain watched her with a master’s critical eye. The skin covering the rounded orbs of her sensuous behind was flawless – no one would ever have known that he had on numerous occasions welted that pretty derriere so severely that it had taken many days to heal. With the mind of a sadist he imagined the pleasure in doing that now. He could be the loving husband later; right now Meredith had much to atone for.
On reaching the closet – its door wide open – Meredith naturally reached with her hands to open the zipper of his traveling bag, until he shot off unmercifully…
“I said your teeth, Meredith!”
Maybe it was possible, maybe not, but she would certainly try. Meri shuddered anew, but she did attempt the feat and was finally successful in drawing the zipper across the top of the bag, which allowed her to nose her way through it until – though blinded by the cavernous dark closet – she felt the scratchy hemp tickle her cheek. She bit down, coming up with a coil of rope that wasn’t easy to extract. Alain thought she looked a little like a determined puppy as she tried to pull the rope free.
When at last she had her prize, she crawled back to his feet and sat back on her heels with her head raised and the hemp dangling from either side of her mouth.
Alain grabbed the rope. “The end of the bed,” he nodded toward the large bed.
Meredith scrambled fast, positioning herself as he’d trained her to do, with her legs spread wide and her hands behind her back. Obviously, he was going to bind her.
Making quick work of the project, he had his wife’s feet securely tied to the bedposts within seconds. However, he took a little more time to fashion a simple harness around her neck and shoulders, which allowed him to bind her tied hands uncomfortably high against her back.
“You start to make a lot of noise, I will gag you,” he warned. “We are in a hotel room and the walls are thin.” He had his hand in her hair, twisting it in his grip as he gazed down at her worried face. The energy pouring from her ramped up body invigorated his blood, his muscles, his imagination. He shoved her head back down and stepped away. Having previously withdrawn his belt from his pants, he had it doubled in his fist in no time, and coming down against her upturned ass with powerful swipes that filled them both with a wildly erotic rush. He could feel her hurt, see how she tensed, watch as the skin began to pinken and then turn a darker shade of scarlet. Seeing her futilely attempt to struggle free enlivened him more; he paused only to catch his breath and admire his handiwork before laying in on her again.
As the punishment resumed, Alain listened to her whimpering. He could tell she was in much distress – a fact particularly pleasing for a sadistic man. That his complaints were well justified only made the punishment more satisfying. When he decided that she’d had enough, he used the belt as a lasso and pulled her upright, speaking tersely in her ear. “We’ve been down the road of your hasty exits too many times, Mrs. Danvers. You mar
ried your master, and you married a sadist – of your own free will. You might remember that when you’re tempted to walk out in a huff, defy my orders, and behave like a selfish brat. You got that?”
She nodded, but was too afraid to open her mouth to speak.
He dropped her back to the mattress and untied her ankles from the bedposts, then with a sharp crack of his hand to her punished ass, he ordered her up on the bed. He crawled up after her and moving in from behind, grabbed her precious mounds of spanked flesh and drilled her pussy with violent force.
Her bound body thrashed back and forth. “Ohmygod!” she vented, “fuck me, Alain!” She was still fixed inside her emotional rage, but fast becoming as connected to sex as she was to the painful punishment. Her inner muscles squeezed her husband’s cock, milking his erection while drawing it more deeply into her body to make it one with her. “Fuck meeeeee, Alain!” she raised her voice strong and determined now, unconcerned how loudly she screamed.
As Alain came, he held her fast to him and pumped his seed, driving it toward her womb, then finally threw her off and collapsed to the bed exhausted while Meredith sunk into a wasted heap.
Still bound, she struggled to get close to her husband, with no help from him.
“I am so sorry, Alain. It was so stupid of me to run off. I knew it, I really did. I promised you and I let you down. I just don’t know what comes over me.”
His anger disappeared with the punishment over.
“I promise you, Meredith,” he said on turning toward her. “We’ll not go this long again. You’ll get your kinky punishments long before my emotions build to such extremes. Once we’re home, we may be husband and wife, but your training is just getting started.”
“Yes, sir,” she smiled as she often would when his Dom talk aroused her. He could clearly see that she was aroused now and very much in love.
Honeymoon In Bondage Page 1