Sometimes she was ordered to the kitchen to cook dinner. Sometimes she was ordered to the dungeon or den or some other place to take punishment just for the sake of her being punished – because for Alain and Meri punishment turned to pleasure.
Sometimes, they simply made love.
There were times when she read her husband’s mood enough to realize that he was pissed about work or some other matter having nothing to do with her. She became his whipping girl, the whore he picked up off the street, the balm to soothe his troubled nerves. He rarely explained himself, although he did apologize one time when he thought he’d gone too far into a whipping scene.
“It’s really all right,” she said, through her heaving sobs. He’d just whipped her with a braided cat o’nine tails and singletail whip, stopping only after he’d drawn blood and left a deep red welt across her ass. He held her tight to him cradling her head in his hand.
“No, it’s not all right,” he countered her brusquely.
“But it is, Alain,” she pulled back enough to see his face. “I am your submissive, your slave, if you wish. You can’t separate me from that truth.” It was always times like this when she could be wholly his with no reservations and not a shred of fear. He’d taken her down that far and in that subspace wonderland she was so comfortable, so much at home that there was nothing to which she would not acquiesce.
In Alain’s mind, this was a dangerous place for any woman to be – dangerous for him as well. To take her there was a sadist’s dream, an easy place where he could revel in the darkness of his sexual desires. But she frightened him with her talk of such abject submission, a submissive that gave and gave and gave and asked nothing for herself.
Thankfully, these times were infrequent and the more mischievous and petulant Meri was likely to appear, giving him enough resistance to keep their Master/slave exchanges truly challenging.
She often cleaned house in the nude at his command, her body bound with rope as she scrubbed the kitchen and bathroom floors. During weekends when Alain was home, he enjoyed watching her beautiful body as she moved around the room – gritting her teeth, sometimes even seething with anger – which he was quick to cane her for. Other times, there was a more erotic and playful spirit about her; she’d giggle as he teased her with the cane, and even welcome the sharp sting of a smarting thwack.
When he retained the services of a housekeeper, Meredith initially had a fit. Mrs. Langshire was a woman Alain had known for many years. She was a pleasant, dark-haired female in her late-thirties, with a voluptuous body and a straight-forward and earthy personality. She could be the take-charge type, but she had a healthy respect for the master of the house and a true willingness to serve him well in the role assigned. Although it was not clear if they’d ever been intimate, it was quite clear that she was well-versed in the acts of sadomasochism and submission that were part of Meredith Danvers’ daily life. The story was: Mrs. Langshire had been married to her master when he suddenly died of a heart attack. Nearly a year later, she seemed to have recovered from her initial grief, and yet, the effect of her loss was evident on those rare occasions when Meredith would find the housekeeper staring off into space with a tear in her eye.
Despite Meredith’s initial irritation with the intrusion of a stranger into her married life, Mrs. Langshire seemed to fit seamlessly into the household as if she’d been there all along. She thought nothing of folding clothes while watching the submissive Mrs. Danvers scrub floors or polish the silver in the nude. If Alain asked her to ‘closet’ his wife for the afternoon, she made sure it was done. This closet treatment was something that Meredith particularly hated. It was always punishment and usually for some sassy remark that earned her an hour or two – or more – in the punishment closet in the kitchen hallway. Tucked beneath the stairs, Meri could barely stretch out, the air was close and her incarceration was uncomfortable and unwelcome. Even the daydreams that would come to her so easily in other submissive situations seemed to evaporate in the closet’s stale air. She was just too uncomfortable to relax. Though she was always relieved when her sentence was over, she was never happy. One time, when she was let out, she snapped miserably at Mrs. Langshire about the fact that she’d been all scrunched up for the last hour with nothing but a thin pillow to comfort her on the hardwood floor. The gentle smirk and lifted brows on Mrs. Langshire’s face immediately conveyed to Meri the last thing she needed at that moment. She abruptly turned around to find her husband standing just a foot away.
“Well, if it’s a problem being all scrunched up for an hour with nothing but a thin pillow, you can do it without the pillow.” He stepped out of her way, indicating that she’d just been sentenced to another stint under the stairs.
Despite her husband’s obvious irritation, Meredith snapped. “No, Alain! I won’t!” She turned tail and headed toward the back stairs.
Unfortunately, the ever-present Mrs. Langshire just happened to be in her way, and Alain was able to grab Meri back before she could safely flee.
Alain didn’t like back talk. For that she was thrust over the kitchen table and spanked with a spoon until her ass was hot and throbbing, and streams of sorry tears poured from her eyes. Then it was back in the closet for another hour of penance. This time, when she was finally released by a very kind Mrs. Langshire, she was all sniffles and remorse.
“You’d better soothe the waters with the boss, because he’s not happy with you,” the housekeeper told her.
“He’s not?” she snuffed.
“Something about your behavior getting way ‘out of hand’,” the woman tried to recall Alain’s words.
“But it’s not out of hand!” she practically stomped her feet in protest.
“This is training, girl,” Mrs. Langshire patiently reminded her, while putting a comforting arm around her waist. “It will be over soon enough and you’ll find yourself missing all the attention. Just remember, Alain is so sweet on you, I see where he lets you get away with things, then gets pissed because he does. It’s just one of those bad nights you have to live with. You go now, crawl to him on hands and knees – he’s in the den nursing his Scotch – give him one hell of a blowjob and you two will be laughing like newlyweds and groveling all over the bed before the night’s out.”
“We are newlyweds,” Meri dryly remarked.
“Then go act like one.”
It was times like this that Mrs. Langshire’s presence in the house soothed away the rough waters that rose up when tempers flared between husband and wife. Meredith soon learned to appreciate that guiding hand – maybe this was exactly why Alain had hired her in the first place.
That night, Meri did as the woman advised and despite her festering irritation, she coyly crawled along the carpet into the den where Alain was earnestly pouring over some papers at his desk. He looked up seeing his wife, a blank expression on his face as Meri tried to draw him from his work. Although he hardly seemed moved, a little thrill rocketed through Meri’s body as she fixed on his stern expression and all that was behind it. His dominant aura began to affect her as it always did, so that it soon became a challenge to soften his sour mood. She played coy and charming and beautifully remorseful as she crawled around the desk and settled in at his feet, kissing his shoes, then slowly making her way up his legs until she was kneeling between his thighs, earnestly gazing into his implacable face.
“You think I can forget your misbehavior with all this sweetness?” he finally spoke.
“I was kind of hoping you would.” She ran a delicate finger along his crotch, hoping to feel some result from her exhibition. Sure enough, there was a little jolt of erotic energy rising from his cock.
“You must be taking Mrs. Langshire’s advice.”
“Is it working?”
Finally…finally, the sensuous smirk and the kind, knowing eyes.
“Oh, go on. Get up to bed, brat,” he dismissed her quickly. “I’ll be up there directly.”
Mrs. Langshire wasn’t all that
bad, after all. Meredith finally got over her initial embarrassment – times when she had to perform in front of the woman, or found herself getting dressed down by her husband while the housekeeper looked on. Knowing that she had a friendly face and a little practical wisdom at her side, she soon accepted the woman’s presence in good spirits.
What Meredith didn’t realize was that the housekeeper was there for more than soothing the rough waters of a new marriage. Meri would find out soon enough.
Chapter Four
Payback’s a Bitch
The moon was full and round and lit by a million surrounding stars. They strolled along the water’s edge, arm in arm, Meredith basking in the quiet darkness of the frosty winter evening and her husband’s undivided attention. He’d called earlier in the day, surprising her with a trip to a friend’s lake house. Saturday night and all day Sunday, not a soul, not Mrs. Langshire or a cell phone or a briefcase of work to come between them for twenty-four hours.
“This feels like a honeymoon,” she said contently. “You suppose it will be like this when we actually…you know, get to sneak away?”
“I hope so.”
Though they were wearing flannel and parkas, the wind was picking up and they retreated to the cabin, where they snuggled in by the fire. Meri picked at his jeans, her mind retracing events of the past weeks until she stumbled on that odd conversation…
“You know, Alain, I’ve been puzzled by something. You know that night when Robbie pierced me?”
“What about it?”
“Well, I was still lying on the workbench. I’m sure you thought I was out of it somewhere, but I, well, heard stuff.”
“Like what?”
She pulled out of his arm and turned so she could see his face. “Something about ‘reciprocating’ and a woman named Ella, is that Robbie’s submissive? You have some plans for the middle of this month, which would be now?”
“You did hear more than you should have,” he remarked.
“What’s it mean?”
He didn’t answer right away, carefully considering his response. Then, finally he gave up the truth, “Well, you will know soon enough, might as well be now. I made a trade. In exchange for the piercings, Robbie Carvello has asked me to train his new submissive, Ella.”
“Train her?”
“For anal sex.”
It took just a second for Meredith’s inquisitive expression to darken. Her face became a picture of shock. “What—?”
“You look spooked.”
“So, you’re going to do it? Train this girl?”
“I am.”
“But…but…” she didn’t finish. She wanted to say, ‘what about me?’ but never found the words, at least to offer up her protest in any cogent way.
“But what? You don’t like the idea?”
“No, I don’t.”
“And why is that?”
She was all anxious now, trembling as she fell back inside her husband’s embrace. But what could she say? He had to know that this infuriated her, although she tried very hard to be calm. “Well, sir, it just seems like that’s an awfully intimate thing for someone who’s not…who’s not your own…”
“It’s a favor for a friend.”
“That’s quite a favor.” She was all huddled up, staring at the fire, afraid that she’d just blurt out the wrong thing and start something she could not take back.
“And you’re obviously upset,” he said.
“No, no. I just…” Her thoughts flew fast before her mind…her submissive training must have worked because she could answer every question she might pose about his scheme before even asking it. She knew that the way their relationship worked he had every right to take on the training of a friend’s submissive, if he were so inclined. She’d have no say at all in the decision. That didn’t mean she liked it. But she did back off from more probing questions.
“You just what, Meredith? If you have an objection, say so. That doesn’t mean that I’m going to change my mind.”
“No, no. It just took me by surprise, that’s all.” She gulped back her emerging tears. “So, how long is this training supposed to be?”
“Two weeks. That’s it. Certainly you can put up with sharing me for that long… although you’ll hardly be sharing me in any meaningful way. My interactions with Ella will be for one purpose only, and that’s it.”
“So, why exactly would Mr. Carvello choose you for this job? I mean, we don’t have anal sex very often, I wasn’t sure you were particularly interested…”
“I know a lot about training women for anal service. Past experience, long before you. Robbie knows that. How I choose to have sex with my wife is a completely unrelated matter.”
This didn’t settle well. She knew he had a history in the BDSM world, but up until now it was never discussed. Even when he offered to give her the details of that time, she told him that she didn’t particularly want to know what kind of sexual activities drew his fascination during those years. The more she knew, the more she’d have to worry about.
“Why doesn’t he do it himself?” she went on.
“Because there are times when a Master needs to give his submissive away for something specialized like this. There’s more objectivity. Plus…with Robbie, he knows he can be too impulsive and someone more rational would do a better job. The man occasionally loses it when he’s dealing with his own submissive. He’s had enough bad scenes to realize that now. I’m doing them both a favor.”
“Would you give me away?” Meri wondered.
“I already did…to Robbie. I wouldn’t want to pierce you myself. I’d be sure to botch the job.”
“But that was just a night.” She was trying very hard not to sound argumentative but it was becoming increasingly difficult.
“And this is two weeks. You will survive it, Mrs. Danvers. Ella doesn’t mean anything to me, except as a good friend’s submissive who needs a little friendly push in a direction she’s having some difficulty with.”
He made it sound so simple, like it happened every day. But Meredith knew that if it was so simple, her husband would not have been called on for the job.
“How about you put it out of your mind, Meri. He pulled her head around and lifted her chin, his lips taking on hers until she forgot her jealousy and they began to make love. If anything, the revelations of the last few minutes only made her own erotic fervor intensify. She didn’t care who this Ella was, but she would not be taking her place. Never! And Alain better understand that!
***
Alain walked in the front door to the startling and almost violent sounds of crashing and grunting and screaming, including a string of four letter words. Tracing the noise to Meredith’s studio, he immediately moved there and for a moment stood in the doorway, watching his wife throw paint cans against the wall, her entire being lost to a physical rant like nothing he’d ever seen before. There was a smashed antique mirror, ruined canvases and paint splashed everywhere. None of this was of particular concern to Alain; it was his wife’s raging anger that made him remain motionless, shocked and turned speechless by the astonishing display.
“Meredith!” his voice suddenly boomed over the crazed racket. “Meredith!” It took a second thundering roar before reality brought the flying paint cans to a halt. The room fell silent while Meredith stared at the far wall, her body heaving from exhaustion.
“Meredith, look at me,” his voice had quieted.
He waited far longer than he should have before she finally turned.
When she did, he saw that her eyes were swollen with tears, and her pale face was streaked with black mascara.
“What in God’s name have you done?”
She bit her lip, unable, unwilling to speak.
He cautiously moved closer, but stopped before he reached her, refusing to rush in and console his obviously troubled wife. She needed to speak first. Although he had a good guess on what this was about, he wanted to hear the truth from her.
“Are you all right? Tell me.”
“Yes, sir,” he could barely hear her reply.
“And no one’s died?”
“No.”
“No one’s hurt you?”
“No, sir,” she shook her head.
“But you’re angry.”
She looked a little stunned. Her chest heaved again, as if she recalled why she’d had the fit.
“Yes, yes, I’m angry.”
“About Ella, is it?”
She seemed surprised to hear him nail it so succinctly. “Yes, sir.”
“Well, Ella’s going to happen whether you like it or not. This is the last thing I hoped to see from my submissive wife. What on earth am I going to do with you?”
The remorseful child took charge where once the anger had been. The cocked head, the bit lip, the sheepish look of want in her tear-filled eyes. “A spanking, maybe?” her face grimaced speculatively.
He considered the statement thoughtfully. “Is that it?”
She didn’t speak.
“Answer me, brat,” he demanded.
“Yes, I guess so, sir.”
He let her sweat it out for several minutes, staring at her, collecting himself, getting his mind geared up for the next half hour of punishment. He had so wanted to sit in his den, relax with a little TV, a ballgame, maybe, dinner…anything but this. He didn’t even have the housekeeper that night – probably why the scene happened in the first place; it was Mrs. Langshire’s day off and his wife had been alone.
“Then take off the overalls and crawl up on the table. When I’m ready, I’ll let you know.” He walked out of the room to finish recovering from the shocking scene. In so little time she’d gone from a raging maniac to a sniveling child. Had she gone mad?
Meredith waited in the midst of the mess and silence for a long while – long enough for her to fear that Alain would never return. Her naked body shivered from the chilly air and her knees ached from the kneeling position on the hard bench. All this while the walls of her beloved studio seemed to scream at her with the same angry words that she smashed into them with such violent force.
Honeymoon In Bondage Page 4