“If you need me to stop, you say red, and I’ll stop. Doesn’t matter why — if you aren’t turned on, if you’re overwhelmed, if you don’t think you can obey an order, if something turns into a bad hurt instead of a good hurt — whatever the reason, say the word and everything stops.”
“Stops for good, or just until we talk about it?”
“If you want it to stop for good, it will. If we talk about it and we both want to continue, we will.”
“Why can’t I just tell you to stop?”
“Because part of the fun of this is you asking me to stop and my not listening. You can beg me to end the spanking, and I won’t. But if you say your safeword, everything stops.”
My clit throbbed in time to my heartbeat, and I took a slow breath to try not to clue him in to just how much he was affecting me. I wanted this man — and the promises he offered — more than any other guy I’d ever wanted. Except maybe Bash, but I quickly put him to the back of my mind.
“Do you have a hairdryer I can borrow, before we get started?”
Chapter Nine
Angelica
I considered what I’d agreed to as I dried my hair. He’d insisted on talking another ten minutes, so I was clear on where things might eventually go if this evening worked out okay. Basically, tonight I only had to keep from smarting off to him, couldn’t cuss, must immediately follow orders without hesitating, and had to accept whatever consequences he doled out if I broke a rule. However, he was clear tonight was just an introduction, and if we both enjoyed it, he’d like to take it to the next level. At that point, I’d call him by his name every time I spoke to him. He explained he couldn’t let me get used to calling him Sir or Master because of the risk I’d do it out of habit in public. He also said — if we continued — he’d want a lot more control of my body.
I’d put on the shirt and sweats he gave me, and then handed him my bra and panties before I started drying my hair. He actually hung my shirt and pants, which I thought was sweet. Wearing your clothes home after sex isn’t nearly as awkward if they aren’t wrinkled to hell and back.
I liked Thomas, liked spending time with him, and his kisses melted my fucking panties. Realistically, I knew he could never be more than a quick fling. He wouldn’t hesitate to put my friends in jail, if he had any evidence at all, and that made him the enemy.
But since the first time I’d seen one of the club sluts spanked in the main room, I’d wondered how it would feel. Thomas’s rule against cussing seemed overkill, and yet it pretty much assured I’d get a spanking tonight because there was no way I’d be able to keep from cussing during an orgasm.
And I was assuming he’d know how to give me those.
He’d put a toothbrush, toothpaste, and ponytail holder on the sink, so when my hair was dry I pulled it back and brushed my teeth. I wasn’t sure if I was impressed or offended that he’d offered the toothbrush, and decided to look at it as him being thoughtful.
I had no idea what was about to happen, exactly. He’d told me since I’d never formally submitted before, he’d go slow with expecting me to follow orders, and he’d try to make his first demands simple ones. Eventually, he said I’d come to him naked, ready to be inspected before the scene began.
I walked to the bathroom door and looked into the bedroom, and my heart skipped a beat as I saw floggers and whips and paddles, and some stuff I didn’t recognize, spread out on his dresser.
“Come here, Angelica.”
I walked to him, my wolf arguing with every step I took, but I sent her an image of two wolves playing and she backed off. She didn’t completely believe me, but was willing to sit back and watch for the time being.
“The shirt’s long enough you’ll be covered when you take the sweats off. I’d like you to remove them, fold them neatly, and place them on the chair by the door, please.”
Fold them neatly? Really? I did as he asked, but this just wasn’t my idea of hot sex. Even my wolf snorted in derision as she realized what he’d ordered me to do.
I faced him when I’d finished folding the damned sweatpants, and he said, “Very good. You’ll find some leather cuffs on the dresser. Please bring them to me.”
Oh yeah, bringing him the leather cuffs was a helluva lot better than folding clothes, and my heart sped a little as I let him restrain my arms behind my back. The cuffs were beautifully made and would easily restrain a human woman, but a quick look at the way the leather was sewn around the metal connectors told me I could probably tear them if I struggled, so I made a mental note to be easy on them.
I wondered how he’d get his t-shirt off me, with my arms restrained, but didn’t get a chance to ask because he turned me around and kissed me, his mouth pressing against mine until my stomach somersaulted around my heart as he took control with his mouth, his lips, his tongue. I opened for him, and leaned my cheek into the palm of his hand as he directed the way he wanted my head, and his other hand fisted in my hair.
Thankfully, my wolf was still watching without arguing. She knew this human was no match for us, and she didn’t approve of my submitting to him, but she was letting it play out.
I gave a small gasp as his thumb rubbed my nipple over the shirt, and my arms tried to come around front, but I stopped them before I tore the cuffs. Not being able to touch him was more of a turn-on than I’d expected — it completely altered the power dynamic.
As did the fact I was wearing only a t-shirt, and he was fully dressed.
He stopped kissing me, grasped my left bicep, and walked me to the bed. Before I could argue he’d bent me over the bed and ordered, “Spread your legs, Angelica.”
I moved them apart a little, and he said, “More. I don’t want to have to punish you yet. Do as you’re told.” His voice was commanding and yet kind, which worked for me. So, even though my wolf protested, I spread them wider as my clit pulsed in time to my heartbeat, and my pussy desperately wanted attention. The position, with my arms behind my back, mortified me and turned me on at the same time. And god, my pussy was so damned empty. Fuck I wanted him, but damned if I was going to beg for it.
“Good girl,” he said, his hand on my lower back, his heat soaking through the shirt, into my skin, and straight to my groin. He caressed my arms, touched my hands, and patted my bottom. “You can stand up, Angelica.” He helped me up and pulled me into his embrace. “If I tell you to get in position to be punished, you’ll assume the position. If you’re arms aren’t restrained, rest them at your sides and I’ll restrain them once you’re situated.”
He released the clasp between the wrist cuffs and helped me onto the bed. Straps came up between his headboard and mattress, and he clipped them to my wrist cuffs, restraining my arms over my head.
I didn’t fight, didn’t argue, didn’t protest. I could get out of this if I wanted, but it’d take a whole helluva lot of explaining, so I really couldn’t, unless it was some kind of emergency. As long as he was following the rules he’d set up, my arms were stuck over my head and he could touch me wherever he wanted.
And the realization was like gasoline on an already blazing fire.
Thomas settled himself over me and kissed me again, and my heart kicked into overdrive. His lips demanded my submission, and when I gave it, he demanded more. Took more. Finally, he moved to my neck and kissed his way down to my breast, over the top of my borrowed tee. He leaned to the side of the bed, came back with scissors, and goose bumps erupted on my skin as he cut his shirt from the hem to the neckline. I still wore it on my shoulders, but it was spread open across my front, making me feel even more naked than if I didn’t have it on at all.
My nipples were so hard I wanted to touch them, find some way to relieve the pressure, and I moaned as he ran his finger down my cleavage, over my stomach, and towards my mound. My legs were together, and I resisted the urge to cross my ankles to try to get friction on my clit.
His finger lifted just before he reached my mound, and he looked back to my face. “Spread your legs,
Angelica.”
I didn’t want to, and yet I did. Either way, the look in his eyes told me it wasn’t a request, and I wasn’t sure I wanted a spanking just yet. I spread them a little, and he nodded. “Good girl. Bend your knees, put your feet by your bottom.”
He kissed me all over for at least five minutes, until I thought I’d go mad. I moaned at first, determined not to beg, but eventually gave up and said, “Please, Thomas. You’re driving me crazy!”
He merely said, “Mmmmmm. Good to know,” before he went right back to driving me crazy.
Without thinking about it, I said, “Shit, please Thomas!”
He sat up and looked down at me a good five seconds before I could think through the fog of my arousal and realize I’d cussed.
“I’m sorry! I’m not used to having to censor myself in bed. I can do it in public, just… not in private!”
He got off the bed and returned with two shiny, pretty, leaf shaped pincher looking things, connected by a silver chain.
“These are called clover clamps, and you’re going to wear them a little while. Hopefully, they’ll remind you to watch your mouth.”
I have no excuse, other than to say it’s perfectly natural for me to cuss when something pinches the hell out of my nipples, because the instant the first one bit into the tender flesh, I screamed, “Fucking hell!”
He put the second one on, and I had to fight to keep from ripping my restraints loose. He straddled my hips and sat on them, his arms crossed, his eyes scrutinizing me as he watched me fight to deal with the pain. Thomas is a marathon runner, all compact muscle and sinew and bone, and I could’ve thrown him off my hips if I wanted… but I wasn’t sure what I wanted.
If I’m honest, I wanted to know how it felt to be spanked, but I was also scared. Those girls had cried real tears, and often fought and begged, once it started. I had a safeword, though, and once they agreed to be spanked, they couldn’t stop it. My nipples were on fire, and yet I could smell my own arousal permeating the room, not to mention the way my heated blood pounded through my veins. It didn’t make sense, and I wanted them off, and yet… I was horny as fuck.
My wolf was also sitting back, watching. She knew there was no reason for us to submit to this man, and under normal circumstances would’ve been insisting we assert our dominance, but she must’ve figured out this is one of those human things that won’t make sense to her, so she was watching with curiosity.
I was about to use the safeword he’d given me when he leaned forward and took both of the horrible clamps off at the same time. I’d expected the pain to stop, but instead my nipples felt as if he’d lit a match to them and I screamed, “Fuck!” again.
He sat a little heavier on my hips, and when I began to calm down and breathe half-way normally again, he said, “Three more cuss words, at ten pops each, means I’m going to untie you, you’re going to assume the position, and then you’ll accept your punishment. I’ll give you the first ten with my hand since this is your first spanking, but the next twenty will come from a paddle.”
I was about to ask him what was so bad about my saying freaking cuss words when he put a finger over my lips to shush me and said, “Minced oaths will be five pops. Do you understand what a minced oath is?”
I had an idea, but wasn’t positive so I shook my head.
“Saying shoot instead of shit,” he explained. “Word like darn, dad-gum-it, gosh, and sheesh are all minced oaths. I want you to tell me what you’re feeling using descriptive words, not by cussing, and using a minced oath often has the same energy of the original word.”
“I don’t like this rule.”
“You don’t have to like it, but if you’re going to submit to me, you have to follow it. Some rules we can negotiate, but this one isn’t up for discussion.” He leaned forward to release my wrists, got off me, and ordered, “Assume the position, Angelica.”
I got in position, and lay in conflict as he restrained my hands behind my back once again. My body was a lit fuse, waiting to go off, and my ass itched to feel the spanking, though my brain was telling me to run.
The first ten swats weren’t too bad. They hurt, but they were bearable, and I had to focus to keep from lifting my ass and begging him to just fuck me already. I was turned on from the session as a whole, and had been anticipating how it might feel to be spanked for years. At the end of the first ten I was both disappointed it hadn’t hurt more, and a little relieved I’d been able to manage the pain.
“This is a Lexan paddle,” he explained. “It’s all sting and no thud, and I need you to stay on the bed and accept your punishment. If you can’t, I can tie you down, but if you force me to have to stop and restrain you, we’ll start over with eleven.”
I nodded, thinking the clear plastic-looking paddle didn’t look terribly threatening. I noted the holes in it, but didn’t remember those would make it hurt worse until about the time the first strike landed on my ass, and I came up and was across the room with my hands no longer restrained behind my back before I knew what happened.
He looked scared and shocked, and then irritated. “You broke the cuffs? Are you okay? Let me see your wrists.”
My ass was on fire, my heart beating faster than it did at the end of a five-mile run, and I realized I’d moved faster-than-human and needed to try to explain it away.
“They’re okay, I’m sorry! I’ve heard about people doing crazy things from adrenaline, but I was across the room before I realized it. I’m sorry about your cuffs, I’ll pay to replace them.”
He shook his head. “No, I have more. These are designed for comfort more than hard-core play, but I never imagined you’d…” He sighed and pulled me into a hug. “It’s okay. I wasn’t going to show you my playroom just yet, as it can be scary to someone who’s so new, but I think we should probably move down there.”
He put his arm around me and led me to an elevator. Who has an elevator in their house? Really?
He pressed a code into the keypad, and the doors closed and we went down. The doors opened onto a long hallway, and my heart beat in my throat as he led me down it, his arm still around my waist. He pressed his palm to a reader beside a door, and I heard a click.
“Open it and step in, Angelica.”
He stood in the hallway as I walked in, surrounded by all kinds of equipment clearly designed for pain and torture.
“Some of the things in here are antiques, bought at auction in Europe. Ancient devices designed for the kind of torture that eventually kills the person. I’ve never used them and never intend to. A few are useable, however. The various wooden ponies, of course. The drawing and quartering table as well, though I have to be super careful not to pull too hard on the joints.”
I could smell terror and arousal in this room, the two scents layering over each other until my wolf was no longer willing to sit back and watch.
“I’m going to put you on the spanking bench in the back right corner. I’ll keep the door open, as it locks from the inside as well as the outside, and only my palm opens it. There are two egresses, the elevator on one end of the hallway, and stairs on the other end — they come out in the pool equipment room, in the backyard.”
“You lock people in here?”
He nodded. “And in a few of the other rooms down here. It’s about trust. You don’t trust me enough yet, so I’ll leave the door open. Eventually, I hope you’ll walk in here and agree to be mine in every way, trusting me with your very life.”
He stepped inside and opened the door all the way, until it clicked as it touched the wall. “It won’t accidentally close, now,” he assured me.
He not only had antiques from medieval European dungeons, he had drawings and paintings on the walls showing exactly how some of these devices had been used. He strode to me with confident steps, touched my cheek. “Just the spanking bench you see in the back corner, for the rest of your spanking.” His voice was soothing, his eyes soft and gentle, and I didn’t smell a lie.
Arousal waf
ted from him in waves, though. He wanted me.
I nodded, and he walked me to the corner. “Bend over it, get a feel for it while I get some rope.”
It was padded, and comfortable enough. Not like the torture devices dominating the front part of the room. I took a deep breath and assured myself people knew we’d gone out tonight, and if I turned up missing they’d come to him, looking for me.
Also, I smelled arousal on him, and he didn’t smell like a serial killer. Not that I knew how one would smell, and I remembered my dad saying sociopaths lie without smelling as if they’re telling a lie.
Thomas had me grab my elbows behind my back, and he wound the rope around and around my forearms, in a kind of chain formation. When he finished, I wasn’t entirely sure I could get out of it, even with my strength.
He bent me over the device, and tied my ankles off to something to force my legs to stay spread wide. He ran the rope around and around my ankles as well, and I had to hope he’d respect my safeword, if I said it, because there was no way I’d get out of this.
I was just getting my heart rate under control when he also placed a strap over my back and arms, and I heard a ratcheting noise as he tightened it down.
He stood in front of me and bent so we were eye to eye. “Ten with the Lexan paddle, and then I’ll give you a break before you have to take ten with the wooden paddle. I’m going to make a trip upstairs to bring all of the toys I’d taken up there back down. I’ll be right back.”
Having time to think about what was coming just had me even more wound up when he returned. I was turned on, and I’d wanted to be spanked, but the one strike had been so much more than I’d expected — could I take ten of them, even bound like this? And would the wooden paddle be worse?
“I’m not so sure about this anymore, Thomas,” I told him when he returned. I sounded like a pathetic girl, but I couldn’t help it.
Bash, Volume I (Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club Book 3) Page 7