“I thought you might want to inspect my property,” Alain coolly told his host, who was more than eager to move on the lovely Mrs. Danvers, settling himself just off her left ass cheek, his right hand pulling her dress up off her behind.
The man had only one thing in mind, and went directly into the valley between Meri’s firm thighs, his fingers probing both orifices causing her to groan. He thrust his fingers deep, using them like cocks to bring her body heat to an alarming peak within just seconds.
She was panting and puffing, the vicious edge of her arousal fast turning orgasmic.
“She’s a randy tart, isn’t she?” Lawrence commented to his friend.
Alain nodded, enjoying the sight of his wife with another man’s fingers buried in her pussy. A pleasurable sensation darted up his arm, as if it were his own fingers probing his wife. “If you’d like to bring her off—” he said.
“What a delight that would be,” Lawrence nodded.
The Dom’s three fingers continued the violation until the gasping, writhing Meri could not hold on any longer. Obviously, fueled by fantasies that rose up spontaneously in a place like this dungeon, she seemed unable to hold back the orgasm that crashed around the man’s invading hand. She moaned as the spasms moved swiftly through her body, then sighed deeply at the finish. She would have wilted into a sweaty, satiated heap if she hadn’t been locked inside the pillory.
“Well, that, Mrs. Danvers, was your first mistake,” Lawrence abruptly pulled his hand from Meri’s crotch. “You must have permission to come in my house. I didn’t hear you ask.” He was not joking now.
“I’m sorry, sir, I had no idea,” Meri alertly came back, realizing her error.
“Well, you know now. And just so that message sinks in, I think you need to pay for that transgression. Alain?”
“Go right ahead,” he said. “She might as well learn now. This is your house, your rules.”
Lawrence had a paddle and cane ready as if he’d anticipated the punishment long before Meri’s unauthorized come. Taking the paddle in his fist, he advanced on her quickly, warming her bottom all the way to her thighs until she was screaming and stamping her feet in a mad rage.
There was something uniquely satisfying for Alain watching his good friend punish his wife. He could sense that he would deal effectively with Meri, without overstepping his bounds. This was important to know. Too much had happened in their short marriage that had traumatized his wife. She needed discipline. She needed an outlet for her sexual needs. But she did not need a man who would try to usurp his own role as the master in her life. He knew Lawrence would not.
“You don’t think this is fair, do you?” Lawrence paused to question her.
“No, sir! I don’t!” the rattled Meri spit out. She gave the pillory a good strong shake, which only made her suffer as her head and wrists tore at the wood structure, getting her absolutely nowhere.
Her feisty reply only earned her another round of swats from the nasty wooden paddle.
“Dammit! That hurts!” she finally screamed. “Alain, please!”
The spanking stopped immediately, while Alain addressed her plaintive cry with his calm but curt remarks. “This is Mr. Underhill’s house, his dungeon, his rules. I would have thought you heard that, Meredith.”
“But I don’t know the rules!” she cried.
“A good submissive anticipates, they think on their feet, they are cautious,” he went on to explain. “They don’t jump to conclusions and they observe carefully. You failed just now. But you’ll have a golden opportunity to learn these things while I’m gone. You take great care and I’m sure you and Mr. Underhill will do well together. But don’t you dare come crying to me about what goes on. It’s all on you. In your hands.”
His blunt talk seemed enough to finally subdue the unpleasant snit. He’d effectively put her in her place and she knew it.
“Yes, sir,” she snuffed.
Alain’s hand was on her ass, feeling the warmth there, that warmth transmitting itself to his own crotch. While he’d given his friend a taste of his wife’s treasures, he had no plans for sharing her further that night. It might be days, even weeks before he’d see her again and he had his own plans for her that night. To him, maybe not to Meri, but to him this scene had just been a playful warm up that he would take advantage of all night long, as long as he had the stamina.
“I think you planned to finish this off,” Alain finally broke away and turned to Lawrence.
The man nodded and moved in with the cane, leveling six quick cuts against Meri’s punished bottom. These she took silently. It was a struggle but she managed.
Alain was not surprised. Meri hated being corrected for something she didn’t know about. Yes, perhaps they’d tricked her, giving her no specific instructions. But everything that Alain had told her was true and he was sure that his wife would be careful before she acted rashly in Lawrence Underhill’s presence again. Meri was a quick learner. If she was scolded for a fault, she would take pains to change her behavior accordingly. In that way, she was intensely proud of her submission and making him proud had been an important goal.
When Meri was finally removed from the pillory, Alain stared her down, until he had her full attention and the sheepish look he expected to see.
“I think you owe Lawrence an apology.”
“Yes, sir.” She moved to her knees and bowed for the master of the spooky house and the dreary dungeons.
“I am sorry, sir,” she said.
Her humble act was a bit unexpected, but Alain liked how she wore her submission with such beauty. There was little that could suppress what was so inherently true about his wife.
“Ah!” Lawrence responded. He was in a forgiving mood. “I think as Alain says, we’ll get along just fine. I’ll acquaint you with the house rules come morning. You follow me now, I have more to show you.”
Meri didn’t look particularly ready for more, but after deferring to Alain for his consent and receiving his nod, she followed her host into another part of his vast domain.
***
Meredith’s eyes brightened as she entered a much more inviting room than the ones she’d just experienced. Although the walls were constructed of cold stone, someone made an obvious attempt to alter the ambiance in this one. Sconces burned cheerily on all four walls, and a thick Oriental carpet covered most of the stone floor. There were tapestries on two of the walls, which softened the hard effect, and surrounding the perimeter of the room were chairs, and in one corner an elegant lounger that encouraged one to stay. However, the real focus of the room was three enormous trunks that held center stage. When Lawrence sprung the hasps, each one seemed to burst at the seams. Each was filled with dozens of amazing costumes, lace and leather, satin and latex, from hi-tech bodysuits to romantic period costumes to dozens of beautifully designed corsets and bustiers. Collars, cuffs, chains, elaborate gags, masks and head gear seemed to pour out over the carpet as if begging to be picked up and used for some kinky purpose.
“This is amazing!” Meri gasped in delight.
Memories of her last few minutes of suffering seemed to have vanished as she eagerly dove into the array of dungeon finery.
“You have everything!” she announced, looking up at the two men like a kid at Christmas. Alain had taken a seat in one of the chairs, while Lawrence strolled around her smiling, observing Meri’s buoyant responses to the surprising contents of his trunks. Peering into a treasure chest filled with dresses, she seemed to spot something of particular interest, and her hand sunk a little deeper until she finally pulled out a rose-colored dress. In fact, there were three rose-colored dresses, all the same, all long gowns with long sleeves and high collars, but very strangely constructed. It took some minutes for her to make sense of them. Finally, she exclaimed, “These are Roissy dresses!” She looked at Lawrence in shock.
He simply smiled, while Meri continued to inspect her find.
The three garments seemed to be rather norm
al female gowns, made to fit tightly at the middle, with skirts that flared below the hips. But what made them distinct was that the entire bosom of the dress was missing – a style unique to a famed training institution described in the infamous bondage novel, The Story of O. A submissive female wearing one of these would have her breasts blatantly exposed.
The collars of the dresses came with padlocks and tiny keys, in fact on closer inspection, Meri discovered the dresses were deliberately constructed so that they locked in place with several simple locks – at the waist of the skirt, the cuffs and the back of the neck – all added features missing from the original description in the book she’d read. Lawrence had taken a little poetic license to create his own version of the Roissy dress.
The simple gowns were as alarming as they were beautiful.
“Perhaps you’ll get an occasion to wear one,” Lawrence remarked.
She bit her lip, not knowing how to answer him.
“You really have my brain all screwy now,” she finally laughed because she was too overwhelmed to do anything else.
“I like to collect pretty things, it’s what excites me,” Lawrence let the precarious moment slide to ease Meri’s fears. “The corsets are probably my favorites,” he said while moving to another trunk where he showed her what he had in mind. “In this house, I expect to see my submissives corseted. Perhaps there is one that you particularly favor?”
As Lawrence and Meri interacted, Alain watched his wife, noting the peculiar shiver that darted through her body as she absorbed the man’s message. While she first seemed to jump right in like a famished woman having just discovered a feast of fine food, she now backed away a bit and very cautiously continued to sort through the clothing. She moved from trunk to trunk and back again, in awe, gingerly handling each item her fingers touched with great reverence.
“This one,” she finally stated. She pulled out a pale yellow corset made of the finest satin; soft to the touch but stringently boned so it would lace tightly against a woman’s midriff. It looked just her size.
“That one I love,” Lawrence commented. “Picked it up in Paris a few years back. I think it’s too often overlooked, but it doesn’t surprise me that you’d find it pleasing. Certainly fits your personality perfectly, Meredith.”
“Does it, sir?”
“In the morning, you can try it on and show me. Have you ever worn a corset?”
“Not really. I’ve had bustiers, but nothing as elaborate as this.”
“Alain, I’m surprised,” Lawrence exclaimed.
“That was to happen on our honeymoon in Europe.”
“Right. Too bad about that.” And to Meri: “I think you’ll find that a day strictly corseted will change your life. It will certainly affect your attitude, not that yours is in need of any serious adjustment. Just a little fine tuning, perhaps.”
“Meredith will love it, won’t you?” Alain said.
“I-I really don’t know, but it has long been a fantasy,” she eagerly pointed out. She was almost giggling with excitement.
“Then in the morning,” Lawrence said. The man then sighed, looking curiously tired for one who’d had so much pleasant stimulation. “If you two don’t mind, I think I’ll grab Priss and we’ll be off to bed for the night. I’ll see you once the sun’s up. No hurry to leave here. Stay as long as you like. If you’ll just close up the trunks before you leave and turn out the lights.”
He swiftly moved away, almost rushing to be gone and leaving his guests concerned.
“Is he okay?” Meri asked.
“He’s had some medical issues recently. I think he’s just tired. It’s been some time since he’s had guests. I know he welcomes you, you’re not the kind to put a strain on any dominant. You might keep this in mind. But don’t say a thing about what I’ve just told you. He’d be pissed at me, knowing I’d disclosed that to you.”
“I will be very careful, Alain. And I’m sorry I got so, so… you know, mad earlier. I still have a hard time being taken by surprise.”
“Then that’s something for you to work on while I’m gone. I’m sure there will be surprises, many of them while you’re here. Be patient. Be cautious and considerate, and this will be over before you know it.”
She moved from the carpeted floor and into his arms, huddling in his lap, feeling her way inside his embrace. The warmth of her body seeped inside his own. He didn’t want to leave her here. He absolutely did not want to leave her. But he didn’t want to lose her either. This was the safest place for her, far from the nasty animals that had been lurking around his life for the last few months. Get them behind bars and he’d have her back, just as soon as the threat was over.
Alain sent Meri to bed once she’d cleaned up the mess in the trunk room and all the pretty things were back where they belonged – except the yellow corset, which he had her carry upstairs – although it would wait until morning. He stayed in the dungeon for a few minutes more, scouring about for what he needed, then he swiftly exited the familiar place, giving one last glance at the cavernous spaces where he’d so often played in years past. It seemed strange to him now, a little deja vu. Seeing his wife inside the crude confines of the stone walls was particularly bizarre, although he couldn’t be sure why. None of the dungeon trappings should be upsetting to her; she had plenty of experience in such surroundings.
Perhaps it was the instinctual knowledge that Meri would have never survived the kind of bawdy parties that once went on in Underhill’s den of iniquity. Or maybe more to the point, knowing his wife was prone to jealous rages, she would never have been comfortable with the man he’d been during those libertine times. He’d thought little of those years until returning to Lawrence’s dungeon stirred up the potent memories. But they were best left in the past.
The melancholy sweeping him now was almost palpable…and yet, maybe he was wrong to think that far back for the source of his poignant mood. Perhaps this wasn’t a melancholy arising from his past, but a deeper sadness over having to leave his wife when he wanted most to be at her side, protecting her, enjoying her company and relishing the vibrancy of her youthful spirit that had so infected his life.
No clear-cut message was forthcoming regarding his current mood.
Thus, tossing his dour thoughts aside, he doused the dungeon light and moved up two flights of stairs to find the object of his affection waiting for him in their room.
Alain crept into the dark room finding Meredith standing by the window, dressed only in her slave collar. He hadn’t even realized that she’d brought it with her. Months ago, just before their truncated honeymoon, he’d given it to her on a night much like this one. He wasn’t much for slave ceremonies or collaring rituals, in fact, he wasn’t a stickler for that kind of ornamentation. But this finally-crafted collar made of glove-soft leather and shiny steel had attracted his attention when he was combing a leather store for the right nipple clamps. He impulsively bought it with the idea of using it to signal his need for her total surrender. He’d only had her wear it twice before: once when he first presented it to her, and shortly after they returned from London when Meri had become overwrought and he used it effectively to calm her high-strung spirit. He demanded that she put it on, and instantly she got his message and put her behavior in check.
In recent weeks, however, Alain had been so distracted that when other occasions arose when he might have used the collar for its magical properties, he simply forgot that it existed. To see it now ringing Meri’s elegant throat, he understood that she must have felt the need for it. Was she trying submerge her anxiety over his leaving? Was the collar a reminder of her subjugation to him? Or was there some other meaning behind it that he’d have to explore?
As he moved across the carpet, his feet made the faintest of sounds. But Meri noticed, even though she didn’t look his way. He felt her tremble on a visceral level, far more than noticed it with his eyes. Both their senses were acute, their nerves excited, their darker inclinations stimulated by t
heir evening in Underhill House.
When he reached her shivering body, he moved in close behind her, his lips at her ear, his nose drinking in her scent: the perfume, the sweat, the pheromones clinging to the air around her. His fingertips grazed her skin, tracing a delicate line down her arm. When he abruptly grabbed the collar at her throat, she seized up in a moment of panic, as if for just an instant she’d forgotten who was there.
“You must have expected some exceptional surrender tonight.”
He felt the blood throbbing in her veins, every gasp of breath, every beat of her heart, how her sexual body enlivened with desire.
He kissed her neck, feeling a ravaging spirit overtake him. How he wanted just to use her. Fuck her and leave her. Fuck her and walk out of the house without a word. That was the old Alain; the one that had fucked in this house before, treating women like property to use, then to sell or give away. And was that not what Meri wanted too? Was that not the most servile of her slavish desires? Or was this just his desire, not hers?
Fantasies, however potent, are simply not practical, nor do they necessarily reflect the whole of any man or woman’s desire.
But he did fuck her – the act was as inevitable as his solemn mood.
His hand moved from her throat to her naked ass, parting her ass cheeks and swathing her sex juice high around the tight opening of her anus. She gasped, knowing only then what her behavior had provoked in him. She needn’t wait long. With his pants down and his cock hard, he bent her forward, pried her cheeks apart and thrust, savagely screwing her until he came, little thought to her own pleasure.
He grunted like an animal; he held her ass cheeks, twisting her flesh in his fists; and he found the result he lusted for. What she gave him with her willing surrender spoke to the depth of his emotions. The regret. That maddening melancholy. Even the feelings of dread and fear that accompanied the danger driving them to this place of safety.
Had she felt the same emotions?
He fucked her, but he didn’t throw her off as the old Alain might have. His love for her far exceeded that kind of rampaging and depraved desire.
Honeymoon In Bondage Page 15