Hard Limits

by Anna Parsons

  Dylan’s words did little to comfort her. “You should have been dealing with me!” She couldn’t get the vision of his taking Meredith’s hand and walking away out of her head. She took a deep breath before continuing. “Thank you for not leaving me tied,” she said, causing Dylan to flinch slightly. “I appreciate that. Now I want to go home.” She stood.

  “No.”

  “I’m leaving, Dylan. I’m tired of being hurt here. Next time, I might end up in the freakin’ hospital! And I’m tired of people walking away from me. I am leaving!” She did everything but stomp her feet. Standing with her hands on her hips, naked save a small thong, her anger made her even sexier in Dylan’s eyes. No way would he allow her to leave.

  “You will leave when I tell you to leave,” he said simply. “And do not put me in the same category of every other man you have known.” He rose to stand in front her. She looked tiny compared to Dylan. He wanted to cuddle her like he would a helpless kitten, but at the moment, she more closely resembled a caged jaguar.

  “How exactly are you different, Master Dylan? What separates you from them?” She paused. “Before you answer, remember that I saw your back just as I saw theirs.” Her chest was heaving, and her cheeks began to turn pink in her anger.

  There’s my strong, defiant girl! “I’m different because I love you.” He looked down into her eyes. Her head snapped back as though she’d been slapped, causing her to sit back down on the sofa. He sat next to her, touching her cheek. “The first time our eyes met determined the rest of my life. I had an idea that I was going to fall in love with you when I first saw you at the clinic gala. Do you remember that day?” Evie looked at him in shock. She nodded. “I had a feeling that I was falling in love when you curled into my arms after Peter walked away.” He stood and retrieved her dress. “I absolutely knew that I was in love with you when you took all of me inside of you.” He stood and held her dress so that she could walk under it. Evie stood, lifting her hands, allowing the whisper-thin fabric to fall onto her body. “I had to take her away and deal with her. If I had to stand there and see you hurt for another moment, I would have caused her harm.” He folded her into his arms, hugging her close to his body. “I love you.” He kissed her gently, allowing his tongue to tease hers, trying to let his body express what he could not. She reached for the back of his head, pulling him closer to her. Dylan smoothed his hand down her body, and accidentally touched the tender area, causing her to wince. “We will put some ice on that later. For now, you need to come with me.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked as he pulled her along.

  “You are going to walk back to the main room with me.” Evie opened her mouth to protest, but Dylan continued before she could form a syllable. “There are many in that room who want to see you stand up and face her. You’re stronger than you think. They know you are and so do I.” He held her face between his palms, looking deeply into her eyes. “You will witness Meredith’s punishment and show everyone that petty nonsense doesn’t faze you. The woman I love doesn’t run, ever.” He paused, waiting for her response.

  “You love me?” She looked into his eyes.

  “Yes.” He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “Now come.” He took her hand and led her down the stairs and through the corridors to the main room.

  “I lost my shoes…again,” she said to herself. He looked down at her and smiled.

  They arrived at the entrance to the room where, much like before, there were several scenes being played out around the room, dancing to throbbing music, activity at the bar, and couples, threesomes, and foursomes were playing everywhere. When Dylan and Evie entered the room, there was an almost imperceptible reduction in volume and activity. They strolled past several gathered groups, Dylan nodding at some, just as before. Evie noticed that they made eye contact with her much more than the first time she entered with Dylan. He stopped, causing Evie to peer around him to see what was ahead. She gasped when she saw Meredith naked and tied to a cross, with her back to the room. Dylan moved them to a sitting area to the left of the stage. He sat on a black leather sofa, pulling Evie down to sit in his lap. She sat sideways and pulled her feet up so that her heels were against Dylan’s thigh. He reached down and caressed her toes. He loves me…and he has a foot fetish.

  “Good evening, my name is Harrison Stark. Master Dylan has granted me the privilege of administering the punishment for this sub’s transgressions.” He stood in the center of the stage, leaning on the cane that he placed in front of him for all to see. “Are you sorry for your behavior, Meredith?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She leaned her head back to yell her answer.

  “I don’t believe you,” he said plainly without turning around. Evie heard the woman whimper in response. “Master Dylan, am I correct that the club punishment for interfering with a scene is ten strokes?”

  “You are correct,” Dylan said, nodding. “By whatever instrument the Master chooses.”

  “Excellent.” He lifted the shiny black cane, one hand on the handle, and the other about midway down the shaft. Pulling slightly, the base separated, revealing a yard-long whangee cane. Even several feet away, the nodules were clearly visible. As he sliced through the air, the whistle made Evie tense slightly. As usual, Dylan noticed and held her tighter. “Ten is a good starting point. Master Dylan, with your permission, I will add five because I lost the opportunity to examine your pet and the Shibari.” Dylan nodded, stroked Evie’s back, and squeezed her toes tighter. “And, I will add an additional five because she lied when she said she was remorseful. She will be, but she isn’t now. Isn’t that right, Meredith?” Meredith’s forehead was resting on the cross, her body quaking with sobs. “Answer me or I will add five more.”

  “Yes, Master!” she yelled.

  “Count, my pet,” he said moments before the cane flew through the air, landing in the center of her ass. Meredith screamed, causing Evie to nearly jump from her skin. Dylan pulled her closer and she began to shiver. “I don’t hear you counting, Meredith.”

  “One!” she screamed. “One, Master. May I please have another?” Meredith almost giggled

  “She likes it?” Evie asked, shocked when she saw Meredith smile through her tears.

  “Yes. Are you satisfied with the punishment?” Evie nodded at Dylan. “Then let’s go.”

  * * * *

  “Really, Hope. You have got to calm down. You’re going to hurt yourself,” Dylan said calmly as he expertly typed on his laptop.

  “I’m tied to your bed. How can I be calm?” She again pulled at the binding, which didn’t budge. After leaving the club, Evie expressed how much she wanted to go home and sleep in her own bed. The sheer dress, being fondled in front of a stranger, sex on the top of his desk, Shibari style binding, falling over in front of the entire club, watching Meredith’s punishment, and the bruise that blossomed on her hip were too much for one day. She wanted to go home and bury herself under her covers, but Dylan wouldn’t allow it. When she threatened to leave while he was sleeping, he tied her to his bed.

  “I didn’t want you to leave. You wouldn’t listen. So, you got tied to my bed.” He set the laptop aside and turned on his side, holding his head in his hand, looking down at her. After a long bath, he oiled her skin and placed her on the bed under a soft sheet. “I think it’s thrilling,” he said with a smirk as he looked into Evie’s eyes. “You wanted to walk away, just like you accused me of doing.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. I…I didn’t think about it that way.” She looked up at him with sad eyes. “I’m sorry. Will you untie me now?”

  “Nope.” He yawned and reached to turn out the bedside lamp. He snuggled against her, throwing his leg across hers, pulling her closer to him. “I love this. Hearing you breathe. Feeling your heartbeat.”

  “I like it, too.” She yawned in response.

  “Sleep, love.” He kissed her before tucking her under his chin.

  At some point during the night, Dylan crawled on top o
f her and slipped inside. His Hope woke to a feeling of fullness, of him pressing his body into hers, and the soft moans escaping his lips. The light from the bright moon shone through the French doors, as he gently moved within her. She saw his disheveled hair and his closed eyes as he awkwardly fucked her. No finesse, no pretense. He was just addressing a physical need. Within a few minutes, he whispered her name, tensed and spilled within her. She lay still as he recovered. Slipping from her, he returned to his position with his thigh thrown over hers, now with his shrinking cock pressed against her hip.

  “I love you, Hope,” he said before yawning and pulling her closer. Within moments, his breathing steadied and his lips parted slightly as sleep found him.

  He loves me. She stretched to kiss the top of his head, causing him to stir slightly. And I love him. Lord, he’s meeting my family tomorrow. I’m not sure if I’m ready for this. She sighed and tried to nestle closer to her love.

  Chapter 25:

  Dylan Meets the Parents…Have Mercy!

  Heading South on Hwy 288 toward her parents’ house, Hope peered out of the window, humming, as Dylan tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time with Adele, one of the many artists that she turned him onto in their time together. She drew him into her world with her eclectic tastes in music, clothing, art, and things in general. Dylan could tell that his Hope was nervous about spending the afternoon at her parents’. He could understand, but tried all night to reassure her that things would be fine, even after he tied her to his bed and apparently fucked her in his sleep. I still can’t believe I did that. Of course, I did that. Hope in my bed…tied…I’m surprised I can walk today.

  He looked over at her as she continued to stare out of the car window. “What’s on your mind, Hope?”

  “Nothing really,” she said. When she heard no response from him, she turned to look at him, knowing that he really didn’t care for vague or automatic responses. “I haven’t brought anyone home before.”

  “Never?” He looked over at her.

  “No one serious. Dates in high school had to come in and get grilled by my dad, but this is the first time that I am bringing someone to Sunday dinner.” She sighed for about the fourth time since leaving Dylan’s house. “Just a bit nervous, I guess. I hope you like them. I know they’ll like you.”

  “Your parents created you. How could I not like them?” He chuckled.

  “Oh, you could not like them very easily.” Evie shook her head. “They’re very eccentric. In an ‘I couldn’t care less what other people think,’ country-chic kind of way. Not at all the kind of people you hang out with.”

  “What kind of people do I hang out with, Hope?”

  “Rich people,” she said simply.

  “I don’t know many rich people, Hope. My circle of friends is small. In fact, you know them.” He smiled, shaking his head. “Besides, I don’t care about money. I love you and I’ll love your family, regardless of money.” He reached for Evie’s hand, squeezing tightly. “Since you brought it up, I have to ask you something.” She looked at him. “I know that your grandfather left you some money, yet you drive a ten-year-old car. I don’t—”

  “Nine years and three months. Well, almost four months now, I guess.” Evie interrupted. “No, I don’t spend the money my granddad gave me. I spend the money I earn, after savings, of course. And shoes. Gotta buy shoes. And purses.” Evie shook her head, realizing she was babbling. Evie went on to tell Dylan about every harebrained idea that her parents came up with over the years…hermit crabs, alpacas, couponing, making candles, and a hundred others. “I know that he left it to me because Mom and Dad would spend it frivolously. I’m saving it for their retirement.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Dylan looked at her, shocked. “You cannot be responsible for your parents.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you have your own life to live. I don’t believe for a second that your grandfather left you money to save for your parents. He left it to you, for you. They’re grown and can take care of themselves.” Dylan sighed and shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what I say. You take care of the people you love. I hope you count me in that group.” Evie leaned over and kissed him on his cheek but remained silent. Damn. I wish I could get into her head.

  They pulled onto the dirt drive that led to the house. Dylan smiled when he saw the blue three-story farmhouse sitting in the middle of a sea of green. What a perfect place for my Hope to grow up.

  She looked toward the front door as Dylan cut the engine. She knew her mother was watching from the picture window that covered the entire front of the house to the right of the white door. Dylan came around to open her door, taking her hand as she exited. His Hope rubbed her jean-covered thighs, causing Dylan to tighten his grip on her hand. He touched his fingertip to her throat, stroking downward, almost to the top button of her white shirt. “We will be fine, my Hope. Relax.” He kissed her forehead, as he had done a hundred times. She smiled up at him before reaching in to grab her bag. He reached around her to pick up the bouquet of flowers that he selected for her mother.

  “It’s about time you got here. I’m starving.” Evie looked up to see her father standing at the top of the steps, hair mussed, hands on his hips, dressed in cargo shorts and a colorful Hawaiian shirt. Dear Lord. He walked down the steps to meet his guests, grabbing both in a bear hug. “Welcome, son. So glad you could make it.” Sean moved toward the steps with his arm around Dylan’s shoulder.

  “Thank you, sir,” Dylan said before pausing to reach back for Hope’s hand. He pulled her up next to him, making eye contact to ensure that she was okay after the unintentional slight by her father. “I appreciate the invitation.”

  Inside the house, Sean led them through the living room to the kitchen, which was where the magic happened in the Hope household. So…they really like the color blue. Dylan had to smile when he saw the small, honey-colored woman standing next to the stove. “Dylan, meet my wife, Shawna.” Dylan extended his hand, which she shook as she reached for him with her other hand, pulling him down for a kiss on the cheek.

  “Evie, he is so handsome. And tall.” Shawna laughed before hugging her daughter.

  “Yes, he is, Mom.” Evie placed her purse on the built-in desk in the corner of the kitchen.

  “Really handsome,” Shawna said, running her hand up Dylan’s dark blue shirt, which was rolled up to nearly his elbows.

  “Give it a rest, Mom. Hi. I’m Matthew.” Matthew extended his hand to Dylan, accepting his firm shake.

  “Of course, Matthew. I think we met briefly earlier this year.”

  “You have a very good memory.” Matthew motioned Dylan to the table. “Let me get you a drink.”

  “Beer is fine.” Dylan handed the bouquet of flowers to Shawna. “Mrs. Hope, these are for you.”

  “Really handsome…I mean pretty.” Shawna winked at her daughter. “Call me Shawna. Evie, why don’t you give him the nickel tour before we get started?”

  “Sure, Mom.” She took Dylan’s hand, leading him back the way they came. “Come on, I wanna show you my room.” She almost skipped up the stairs, dragging Dylan behind her. She passed several doors, stopping in front of a closed door and turning to face him. “Okay, before we go in, you should know that is exactly as it was before I went off to college. Exactly.”

  “Okay, Hope.” He reached for the doorknob.

  “Now, know that I decorated this as a teenager. Now, I’m grown, and my tastes have evolved,” she pleaded, holding onto his shirt.

  “Okay,” he said with a chuckle. “Step aside.” He gently bumped her out of the way and pushed the door open. He smiled broadly and looked back at her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. This is a great room.” Dylan moved to the middle of the large room, admiring her décor. The walls were a deep yellow, the color of rich mustard. Instead of the full-sized bed sitting in the center of the room, it was on a platform pushed against the wall, with a series of pillows ranging from yellow to orange,
and every color in between. A desk and bookshelves took up almost an entire wall. Dylan walked over to see some of the titles and view the pictures, mostly of family, and some of her being silly. One level of the bookshelf contained trophies and ribbons, all with her name, for some music competition or another. “You stopped playing competitively. Why?” He turned to look at her.

  “A variety of reasons,” Evie said, walking over to the keyboard that sat against the opposite wall. “Mostly, because it wasn’t fun anymore. I love playing, but I didn’t love some of the things people said about me while I was playing.” She moved her fingers across the keys. “I know that sounds silly, but I don’t want to be onstage anymore because of it. Pretty weak, huh?”

  “Not at all, Hope. You wanted to play, not to be on display.” Dylan walked to her and stroked her back. “That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”

  “The interesting, or should I say, disturbing thing is that I felt some of those old feelings come back last night.” Dylan moved to stand in front of her. She looked up to see the worry in his eyes. “At first, anyway. But that changed.”

  “Tell me what you mean, Hope,” he said as he stroked her hair.

  “I really don’t know if I can.” She touched his chest with her hands and looked up into his eyes. “Even though I was tied, I felt a sense of freedom.” She leaned her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. He folded her into his arms and held on tight as she continued. “I know people were looking at me, but there was no judgment, no disapproval, and no condemnation. They just wanted to be close to me and to see me.”

  “You ceded some of your control to me. That’s what gave you freedom. You didn’t ask to be on display. I put you there.” He nestled his nose into her hair, inhaling her scent. “What we need to do is figure out how to translate the freedom you felt at the club to the stage.”