I is for...

by L. DuBois

  As she rotated towards the floor, his hands were on her, first simply stroking and petting the flesh not bound by the immobilizing restraints. He feathered his fingers over her upper arms, stroked the dip of her waist. Then he was kneading her thighs, patting her vulva and grabbing her toes, flexing them forward and back.

  The cross thunked to a stop, and she tensed against the feeling that she was going to fall, to slide off onto the floor. The straps were tight. She wasn’t going anywhere.

  The blood had started to rush to her head the closer she got to upside down, but before she was uncomfortable, he reversed the motion, bringing her up. He continued to touch her, though as she was tipped up, his hands were less gentle, the strokes turning to thick pinches and slaps to her inner thighs and breasts.

  He didn’t stop the motor when she was flat, but kept going, tipping her upright. She sighed in mingled relief and disappointment that it was over, but when her upper body was at a roughly forty-five-degree angle to the floor, he reversed the motion and her head started down.

  Chastity grimaced.

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  “I’m…I don’t know, I still don’t get it.”

  “Stop thinking about it so hard.”

  That order was easier to follow when he had her upside down once more. Her cheeks felt hot, her head throbbed, but it wasn’t like a headache throb.

  She started up again.

  Crack.

  The sound registered before the flare of pain on her inner left thigh. That wasn’t his hand, it was something else. Her head went down, her feet up, and he struck her other thigh.

  She should be able to tell what it was, but the blood was rushing back to her head, and she couldn’t think. She felt like she was twirling, like he was spinning her in one of those carnival rides.

  He struck her pussy and she shrieked, tried to flinch away.

  The cross stopped at the point of full inversion, only for a second. Then it started up again.

  Chastity’s inner ear started to lose track of where the ground was, which way was up. The sensation that she was on some sort of wild amusement park ride intensified. She was panting and moaning, her body marked by small hot spots where he’d struck her.

  The next time she rotated up, instead of pain, there was pleasure. Soft fingers on her breasts and nipples, then he was touching her pussy, rubbing her clit as her hips were raised toward the ceiling.

  She was somersaulting, floating, tied down, and being shot into space. She was high from the head rush, anchored by the combination of pleasure and pain that bound her to her own submission. His fingers rubbed the swollen nub of her clit, sweet pleasure and a tether to reality.

  “Check in?”

  She heard the words through the pounding in her ears, but she couldn’t seem to respond. She was focused on his fingers on her pussy, the light slaps to her breasts.

  “Chastity, check in.”

  Was she coming? She was shivering, her whole body quaking in response to the stimulation. She’d thought she’d experienced an all-consuming scene before, but nothing before had ever been like this.

  He’d stripped her not only of her clothes, her ability to move. He’d stripped away her sense of the earth beneath her feet. He’d stripped her down until she was free floating, his hands and the straps he’d placed on her the only things keeping her from spinning apart into a thousand points of light.

  The cross thunked as the motor cut off. She wasn’t upside down—she was fairly sure of that, but didn’t know much else. Her body was still trembling. Her pussy felt heavy and ached, her nipples were tingling, though he wasn’t touching her breasts any longer.

  “Hold on, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

  The straps loosened and started to slide away.

  “I’ll fall,” she protested.

  “No, I’ve got you. You’re safe, Chastity.”

  The floaty feeling in her head made it hard to think, so she didn’t try too hard. She heard him, and she listened.

  Obeyed.

  When her arms were free, he dropped them around his own shoulders, then lifted her.

  The blindfold was still on, and when he started walking, the world spun once more. She lay her forehead against his jaw.

  Then they were whirling, falling, but it didn’t matter; she was safe in his arms.

  Holy shit.

  Holy fucking shit.

  What had he done to her?

  Alexandre mentally cursed out whoever had designed these playrooms. They were supposed to be intimidating, but couldn’t they at least have a comfortable chair, if not a couch?

  He had to settle for sitting on a low wooden platform with an excessive number of restraint points on it. The stupid thing looked like some amateur’s attempt at avant-garde furniture.

  He spread his legs enough to cup Chastity’s ass between them, his left arm supporting her back. She was leaning against his chest, totally naked except for the blindfold.

  He’d debated removing it, but actually thought that might have made it harder for her to deal with him carrying her. Now that they were sitting, he nudged her chin so she’d lift her head, then slipped the blindfold off. It caught on her ponytail, but he didn’t mess around trying to free it and let it dangle.

  Touching her chin once more, he made her look up. “Chastity?”

  Her gaze wasn’t totally focused, and he gritted his teeth, hating himself for being a sadistic ass.

  “Yes, Sir?”

  “It’s time to come back.”

  “Back?”

  “Wiggle your toes.”

  They both watched her wiggle her toes in a little fan pattern.

  “Roll your ankles.”

  He took her through her body parts one at a time. He was a certified yoga instructor, only because he’d wanted to be able to include some yoga into the training plans he created for his stunt people. Most yoga classes ended with Savasana or Corpse pose, and then a deliberate reconnecting with each body part.

  “I want you to feel your knees, now flex your thigh muscles, just gently.”

  Savasana was about completely letting go and then being guided back into and assessing your body. He figured that would be a good fit for this moment.

  “Take a breath and hold it. Release. Now sit up and roll your shoulders.”

  By the time he asked her to make a fist, then spread her fingers, she was perched on his thighs, a serious look on her face.

  “How are you feeling?”

  For the first time since releasing her, she looked at him and actually focused on his face.

  “Are we…done?”

  “For tonight. This is aftercare.”

  She nodded, then crossed her arms over her bare stomach.

  Alexandre started to lift her off his lap. Chastity put her feet down and popped up.

  “Give me a second,” he said. “I’ll get you a robe.”

  “Thank you.”

  Alexandre left the playroom and blinked. The sky wasn’t the midnight blue of full night. There was a tinge of pale gray in the east that said it was so late it was closer to dawn than to midnight. They’d been playing all night.

  He walked naked to get a robe out of the Doms’ locker room. Most of the courtyards were empty, people having retired to wherever they planned to sleep or having left the club altogether. While he was there, he double checked the manual for the particular Iron Court room he was in. Luckily, it was one of three that had a hidden pull-down bed. The playroom off the Sub Rosa court he’d originally booked looked like a bedroom, or a very nice hotel suite. Because of that, he hadn’t booked a separate sleeping room, so it was lucky their room had somewhere they could rest.

  Their room. An odd way of thinking about it.

  He glanced at the sky as he walked back, wearing one robe and carrying another. It had only been one night.

  It felt longer. As if each hour had lasted days.

  Chastity was sitting on the low platform, legs crossed and arms
folded. She looked tired, which wasn’t surprising. He held open the robe and she slowly unfolded and stood, sliding her arms in. He released it once it was on her shoulders and went to figure out the bed. The framed display of whips and crops turned out to be the hideaway bed. He undid the latches and within a matter of minutes had it folded down. The bed was already made, with a thin, black comforter tucked in tight, dark gray sheets, and two pillows. As he set it up, he noticed the restraint points at each corner.

  Make her sleep with her arms and legs bound. She needs to submit, wants to.

  And you need to master her.

  Alexandre went to her and offered his hand. She placed hers in it, and he led her to the bed.

  She looked from it, to him, then sat gingerly on the edge. He squatted in front of her in a catcher’s stance. “What can I get you? Some water, or something to eat?”

  “Water would be nice.”

  He fetched her a bottle of water from the bar-sized fridge hidden in a small recess. He undid the cap and handed it to her, resuming his crouch.

  Chastity looked better, more herself, though little wisps of hair had escaped from her ponytail, making her look delightfully disheveled and soft.

  “Are you just going to sit there and stare at me?” There was the faintest hint of amusement in her voice.

  The anxiety he’d been holding onto started to melt away. “That was the bulk of my plan. I need to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine.”

  He searched her face. “You were…gone there for a minute.”

  Her pale cheeks tinged pink with color, though she raised her chin in a pose of challenge he now recognized. “I was.”

  “I pushed you too—”

  “Don’t say too hard.”

  “—hard.”

  “Don’t you dare.” Chastity quickly slid off the bed to kneel in front of him, her empty water bottle rolling, forgotten on the floor. “That was incredible. I’ve never felt like that before.”

  “I knew disorienting you with the inversion was risky, and I think a bit less might have been better. Less is more.”

  “More is more.” She cupped his face. “I don’t know if I came, if I was having an out-of-body experience, or what. I know that you made me feel something, gave me an experience, no one else ever has.”

  Alexandre laid his hands over hers, pressing her fingers firmly against his face. “Would you like me to hold you?”

  Her brows rose. “Do you want to hold me?”

  “Defenses up?”

  She shrugged negligently.

  “It’s nearly dawn. We both need to sleep, and yes, I would like to hold you.”

  He was watching carefully and saw the relief in the way she relaxed. All she said was, “I mean if you want to hold me…”

  Alexandre laughed then scooped her up, laying her on the bed and following her down.

  Chapter 11

  “’S’?”

  “No, ‘C’. It’s gotta be ‘C’ for crop.”

  “You want to bet on ‘C’ instead of ’S’?” Master Raine clucked his tongue. “Stupid or ballsy?”

  “Both. I’m a multitasker.”

  When Master Raine laughed, his chest vibrated against her back and shoulder. They were sitting on a divan in the Constellation Court. Their half-empty plates of food were on a table beside them.

  Chastity tilted her head, looking up and back so she could see his face. She only really saw his profile, but that was enough for her to glimpse the smile curling up one side of his mouth.

  She knew his face hadn’t changed, yet being here with him now it was hard to imagine she’d ever thought he looked intimidating. Yes, he could certainly pull off that you’re-about-to-get-your-ass-paddled glower.

  When they’d woken up today, at nearly one p.m., he’d slid out of bed naked, having shucked the robe at some point. Half-asleep, pleasant, warm, and languid, she reached out and pinched his naked ass as he went by. Master Raine had hesitated, then walked out, probably in search of a bathroom.

  Still wearing her robe, she snuggled back into bed and dozed.

  Only to be woken five minutes later when Master Raine yanked off the covers, flipped up the robe, planted one knee on the bed, a hand on her back, and spanked her while she yelped and wiggled. When she protested, she’d gotten a good look at that impressive Dom glower.

  It had been a very nice way to wake up.

  After the spanking, she’d rolled over and placed her hands by her head, expecting them to begin again, but he’d tugged one ankle and told her to get up, that they were going to get out of this room and eat.

  She’d looked at her discarded clothes from yesterday, but had been too warm and content to want to wiggle her way back into the sleeves or corset. Instead she’d walked barefoot with him until their paths diverged. She headed to the Subs’ Garden. He went to wherever it was the Doms, Dommes, and Masters hung out.

  They met back up an hour later in the Dining Room.

  She’d taken a shower and now had her hair pulled up in a braided bun streaked with pink. Shower, a whole-body coating of sunscreen, hair, and makeup hadn’t taken long, but she’d spent longer than she liked to think about debating what to wear.

  Most of her options were stiff, uncomfortably formfitting, heavy, or some combination of all three. She could tell herself that the reason she didn’t want to put on any of her normal outfits was because they were planning to eat. Or because it was the middle of the day, and platform boots and black fishnets in the middle of the afternoon made her feel like a teenager.

  The truth? The truth was that she felt loose and soft in a way she normally didn’t and wanted to dress to reflect that. Yesterday had been so intense, she was still riding the high from it. What she wanted more than anything was to crawl back into that bed and have Master Raine hold her.

  A dangerous thought.

  Sleeping together wasn’t a normal part of aftercare anywhere but here. Here, it was a symptom of the location—they were way up in the Malibu hills, and most people came to the club for the weekend, sleeping and eating there. It was natural and easy for sleeping together to become a part of aftercare, even for casual partners.

  In the end, she’d cobbled together her current outfit from pieces of other ensembles. She was wearing a pair of fuchsia leggings with black stud detailing. They were a spandex-jersey blend and stretchy enough that she sighed happily when she pulled them on.

  Since she was covered up on the bottom, she went for a loose, though enveloping, shirt. It was a sheer black kimono-style top that had originally been a beach coverup. She’d added loops of black ribbon at the front and closed them with a small heart-shaped padlock. The garment was so voluminous she didn’t have to open the lock to get it on, only pull it on over her head. It flared open when she walked, liked to slide off her shoulders and, most importantly, provided very easy access to her unfettered breasts.

  Master Raine had made an appreciative noise when she’d joined him. But by that time, her stomach was rumbling, and however good he looked in his jeans and tight T-shirt—and by god, the man was wearing the shit out of that shirt—she’d wanted real food.

  He’d gallantly offered his arm, and they’d headed into the Dining Room to fill their plates with the catered food the club brought in. Looking at the chafing dishes, she was abruptly reminded how out of place she was.

  This food, half of which usually went to waste and which cost more than she wanted to think about, came from a restaurant she couldn’t afford to eat at in real life.

  The tight ball of anxiety behind her breastbone had loosened when Master Raine put a hand on her back.

  Once their plates were full, they’d gone out to the courtyards to watch other people scene as they ate. She’d been surprised and delighted when he’d opted for the chaise, pulling her down to sit next to him, their thighs touching while they balanced their plates on their knees.

  The dappled, warm sunlight and full belly made it hard to work up the
energy to do anything and, when she’d failed to stifle a yawn, Master Raine had laid back on the chaise and pulled her to recline half-beside, half-on, him.

  Now they were watching a man crop his partner’s ass and debating what letter the two had.

  “Do you want to bet on it?” he asked.

  “If I won, would you pay your forfeit?”

  “Are you doubting my honor?”

  “If I was, would you spank me?”

  “Topping from the bottom again.”

  “I notice you didn’t answer my question about honoring the bet.”

  “Of course I’d honor it…if I won.”

  She giggle—giggled!—and got an answering chuckle from him. Master Raine shifted, and she half sat up, wondering if she was cutting off circulation to his arm, or maybe her elbow was digging into him.

  “Come back here.”

  He tugged her down so she was once more lying against him, but this time he dropped his arm over her shoulders, his hand dangling over her chest. She got a happy fluttery feeling every time he touched her.

  His fingers were inches from her breast, and he hadn’t done anything overtly sexual, but in the next breath, Chastity was unbelievably, terribly aroused. Her breath caught in a little hitch.

  Master Raine pinched a bit of the fabric and lifted it. “I forgot to ask about the outfit. Hiding yourself from me?”

  “No, just keeping myself from getting sunburned.”

  He grunted and adjusted her top until one breast was exposed. “We’re in shadow, so I want your breasts where I can see them.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “You’ve called me ‘Sir’ a lot. Especially for someone who said she didn’t like that.”

  Embarrassment made her stomach tight, though he hadn’t said it in a mocking way.

  Master Raine sat up, forced her to do the same, then grabbed her chin, turning her face to his.

  “Why, Chastity?”

  She summoned a last bit of bravado. “You know why.”

  “I suspect, but I want to hear you say it.”

  Maybe if she hadn’t still felt so vulnerable and soft after yesterday she would have been able to banter her way out of it.