“Of course,” She replied teasingly. “All of my moans are for you.”
“What about the moan that you let out this morning, when JLS were on the radio?”
“That was a moan of horror. Good moans are for you.”
“What about when we were watching The Notebook?” He turned to face her, inadvertently waving a large spatula near her face. “You said that was a good moan.”
Jenna sighed theatrically, holding her hand against her chest. “That was a bittersweet moan. So,” She ended bluntly, “Moans of pleasure can be for you.”
“They’d better be, you naughty girl.” He waggled the spatula again. “’Cause I bet that this is pretty hot.”
He waved the metal utensil close to the bare skin on her neck, and Jenna fought to keep her body still as it drew closer and closer still.
When it made contact she shivered, her eyes locked with Henry’s, and even with the item pressed against her she did not relax. It was warm, not scorching, but it wasn’t the spatula that was the point. It was the intense moment during which she wasn’t quite certain and yet stayed frozen anyway, willing herself to be the perfect object; for Henry to feel able to do anything with her that he pleased. His hand took its place when he removed the impromptu instrument, gently petting the heated skin. She felt weak, all but collapsing into his arm as he placed it round her, setting them spatula on the work surface behind them. Gently he held her, calming her. When he turned back around to turn off the oven however, her pulse began to race.
She stepped back and he stalked her like prey until she was pressed tight against the wooden counter, his large, thin body pinning her to it effortlessly as he eyed her like a piece of meat. His tongue wet his lip and she shuddered.
“Henry…” She sighed and he ran a hand along her inner thigh, pulling away before he reached the top. Gently, he ran his hand back down the outside again.
And then, without warning, he struck her.
A small, light slap that barely made a sound, all it did was serve to dampen Jenna’s knickers as her mind ran ahead of her, full of all the delicious and naughty things that he could do. He stepped away, his arms crossed over his chest as he loomed tall, leering at her.
“Clothes off. Now.”
Immediately Jenna did as she was asked, sensually pulling off her shirt and ever so slowly tugging it over her head and down her arms.
“Faster, you little slut. If I’d wanted a show then I would have asked for it. But you like showing your body off, don’t you pet?” He crooned. “Demanding that I look at you. You’re hoping that I deem you worthy of a fuck, aren’t you pet?”
A small whimper escaped as Jenna finished undressing with more speed.
She folded her clothes neatly and then instinctively kneeled before her Dominant, her legs spread wide and her hands crossed behind her back, her head bowed. She could feel each second ticking by as she waited, her eyes focused on Henry’s feet, for him to do something. To make her do something. Anything.
“Such a good pet.” He whispered, and Jenna fought the urge to look up at the strain in his voice. “Now, dear,” He continued, his voice stronger. “I want you to crawl into the bedroom and pull out a toy, anything, and bring it to me in your mouth. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Jenna breathed happily, crawling as if weighted down in her attempts to remain graceful while scampering as quickly as she was able. It was the door that proved a problem, once she entered the bedroom, and despite Henry’s being in the kitchen Jenna lifted her head, tugging on the wardrobe door with her mouth in an effort to behave in the way that would please him.
Out of the selection she pulled a riding crop, carefully holding it between her lips as she used the side of her head to close the wardrobe once more. And then off she went, back the way she came. She was hyper-aware, upon entering the kitchen, of Henry’s eyes on her breasts, swaying slightly as she moved. More aware still, as she moved herself back to the spot that she had left, of his eyes on her bare cunt, spread open for him by the movement of her legs.
Once situated, she rose once more into her kneeling position, eyes downcast as she waited for the toy to be taken from her.
He took it carefully, smoothly running his other hand through her hair as he praised her. “Good girl.”
He continued his attentions a few moments longer and Jenna luxuriated beneath him, lolling happily as she accepted his attentions and affection.
“Now bend over that stool.” He murmured and Jena crawled to it, elegantly rising and draping herself over the heavy wood. Stood behind her, Henry rubbed his clothed hardness against her, eliciting a muffled whine. He slid the crop down her lower back, running it in the crevice of her bottom and causing Jenna to fidget against it.
“Perfectly still, pet.”
Immediately she tensed, locking her muscles into a shape that wouldn’t be budged and Henry held the crop away from her, his free hand caressing her, soft as a sigh.
“Relax, and I’ll give you ten.”
Feeling small she did so, breathing deeply as she forced herself to free her limbs once more. How, now, would she control her movements?
The first whip of the riding crop only frenzied her more, the muscles in her legs defining themselves as she locked them, pushing her throbbing clit against the stool that she was leant over. The second caused a small jerk, a tiny twitch that signalled her dominant to continue. By the seventh she no longer had any control at all, whimpering as she pushed her hips back to meet the sharp sting. She gave herself over to it, crying out with each strike as she attempted to keep count through the beautiful haze that wrapped itself like the gentlest threads around her; harnessing her and keeping her safe. She had a good idea of what would happen if she didn’t remember the number of pleasurable strikes that landed on her desperate form. The burn built and she felt the tears rising as the final strike hit her flesh, freeing her from the desensitisations of normalcy. Now she felt like a wonder, something that thought more deeply, more clearly, on a higher level.
“Colour.” Henry inquired, but every word that fell from his lips sounded like an order.
“Green.” She replied breathily, barely registering her dried lips forming the word.
“Good.” Henry pressed a soft series of kisses along the length of her spine and Jenna felt each one sending a cool sensation through the flesh that it touched, spreading outwards like ripples in a pond and building into her a sense of serene calm. “We’ll do another set. You can count.”
It was harder now, knowing that she couldn’t allow herself to drift apart, that she must continue counting even if it were on autopilot.
It was made doubly hard by the increase in force. Each strike pushed her forwards, aiding her rocking motion as she welcomed the intense and familiar feeling. She opened herself up to it in every way, accepting the pain and clarity that it gave her. She felt content with the strikes that were over too quickly, giving her only a small push towards sub space before pulling her back with the sudden lack of sensation. Already, she wanted more.
She counted strongly, but breathily, not bothering to hide any of the emotion in her voice as she began to really feel the hits. It aroused her beyond reason, the knowledge of the exquisite shift that the crop could produce, held away from her by the lack of contact from her Dominant. She was a touchy-feely person. Always had been.
Thankfully, she heard the crop being placed on the table once the set was over, and Jenna allowed herself to slump further over the stool; slightly worn out from her exertion but too excited to slink into a happy daze. A long, resounding moan left her parted red lips as his questing fingers probed her.
“So wet, pet.” He told her. “What shall we do with it, I wonder? Or shall we do nothing at all, and leave you like this with the knowledge that you, my naughty little pet, got in this state because of my riding crop?”
“Please, sir!” Jenna whined, her whole body pleading with him; wanting either to be taken down from the staggering heigh
t that he had lifted to, or lifted higher until she no longer felt the uncertainty in his hold on her. Already she was drifting back down, prepared to collapse into a boneless heap of tears even though the harsh contact had ended. “I need more.”
“And more you shall get. Why do you need it?”
“To please you, sir!” And although it was an automatic response to a Dominant that she wanted to please, it was true. She did want to please him, yes, but ordinarily if she said that in play then it was because she wanted to be rewarded for it. Now she wanted to take it all, regardless of what he chose to give her. She wanted him to see the extent to which she would push herself for him, and she wanted him to treasure her for it. She wanted him to hit harder, to allow her to prove her worth.
And there seemed to be something in her tone as she replied to him, something entirely convincing, for Henry’s fingers now moved upwards, dragging her moisture with her to rub over her tight hole. Then, unexpectedly, he lifted the crop once more, rubbing it over her and sending sparks of need through her.
“Oh no,” He chuckled as she shifted below him. “You don’t get any more of this pet. This is just because it excites you. It does, doesn’t it pet? Knowing how close this is. Knowing how quickly it could hit you?”
“Yes, sir!” Jenna exclaimed.
“And you want me to fuck your pretty little bottom, don’t you pet?”
“Yeeesssss.” Jenna hissed, and immersed as she was in the scene that Henry had so attentively placed her in, she almost missed the gasp from the door.
“What the fuck?!” A high pitched female voice screeched, and Jenna leapt up at the sound of her sister.
“Jasmine,” Her heart hammered as she reached for her clothes, tugging on her shirt and trousers without her underwear, desperate to retain a usual situation with her sibling. “You’re here early.”
“No, Jenna.” She stated coolly. “I’m here the exact time that I said I would be.” She looked upon the scene with a pinched look about her face of absolute disapproval. “What is this? You are absolutely disgusting you pervert!”
She quieted a moment, long enough to draw breath before continuing, seemingly oblivious to the hurt look on Jenna’s face and the angry one on Henry’s.
“I mean, how pathetic are you? That’s just so wrong you freak! Do you like being hurt? You are just a pathetic woman. No wonder you weren’t supportive of me when I told you about my break-up; you want everyone to be like you, you-“
“I would like you to leave.”
“-freak!”
The insult was finished even as Henry’s hostile tone sent Jasmine flinching away before bouncing back quickly, opening her mouth as if to speak. He didn’t give her a chance, moving quickly over to Jenna and placing an arm around her. “You may come back later to speak with Jenna, but for now we would like you to leave.”
And then, without waiting for Jasmine to go, Henry pulled Jenna up into his arms, carried her bridal style to their bedroom and laid her down reverently on the bed. He kept his arms around her and stretched out too, gently covering her in innocent caresses and gentle kisses. His fingers winding through her hair calmed her, and it was the feel of his palm against the nape of her neck that pushed the upset, stressed woman into sleep.
“Thank you, Master.” She whispered.
For Henry sleep didn’t come so easily. Once, he could have misheard.
Twice, he couldn’t accept.
Chapter Nine
His arms were still holding her and his eyes were wide open when she awoke a few hours later. His stare pierced her carefully as she stirred, and Jenna lay carefully still as she waited for instruction. His brow was furrowed and every part of his countenance reeked of seriousness and dominance.
“Morning sir…” She yawned, eyes fluttering before returning to looking placidly up at him. His expression only sank further.
“Actually, pet, it’s not morning yet. And I have a task for you to do.”
Jenna smirked happily, and rolled herself around on top of Henry, whose arms tightened to still her. “What is it?”
“I would like for you to write a minimum of 2000 words on your thoughts.” He told her, but his voice was soft and undemanding. “I would like for you to include everything, even things that you feel shy about telling me.”
“Sir, what exactly do you want me to write about?”
“Dominance, submission and specifically our relationship.”
“Ok.” Jenna appeared puzzled, but still she smiled and Henry smiled back as he swept several tendrils of hair from her face. “And when, good sir, would you like that for?”
“Nearest opportunity.” He replied. “I am not going to push you for time considering your schedule at the moment of Jasmine and work. I am trusting you instead to work on it whenever possible, and to hand it to me in a timely manner.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Let’s bathe.”
Jenna nodded, and sleepily scampered of to run a bath, Henry close behind her. It was most definitely night time when they finished, feeling closer than ever as they ran their fingers and washcloths over each other, gently caressing and caring and arousing all in one. They touched each other until there was no skin that they hadn’t touched, and then they lay together, their limbs wrapped together tightly until the water became too cold to bear.
He dried her thoroughly before quickly rubbing the droplets from his own skin and holding her again, leading her by the hand back to bed.
“You may either start on your essay now, or come to bed with me and get some rest.” He told her. “I would recommend the latter - you have work tomorrow.”
“I agree, sir.” Jenna sighed, her limbs heavy as she crawled over the mussed up sheets to curl up with her head on her pillow. Henry settled beside her and pulled the duvet over their naked skin, his body pressing firmly against hers as he reached over her to turn out the lamp.
“Goodnight, darling.” He whispered, and Jenna smiled as she murmured incoherently in reply. When she awoke again it was morning, and Henry was fast asleep beside her, clutching her close to him like a child with a teddy bear. Reaching slowly for the clock on the side of the bed, Jenna turned off the alarm so that it wouldn’t go off and wake him and then lay her head back down, watching the unchanging features of her lover’s face, feeling the even rise and fall of his chest. Light was starting to pour through, and Jenna stayed still a moment longer, enjoying the way the pure light lit him like something innocent and holy. His skin became smoother, more perfect and his long hair appeared illuminated. Jenna pressed her lips gently against his, kissing him softly before drawing away, and attempting to pull the rest of her body away too.
“Mmm.” Henry let out a sleepy groan as he shifted, and his eyes opened as Jenna rose from the bed. “Good morning.”
Jenna turned back round, flushing slightly at the way his eyes travelled over her unclothed form. “Morning.” She replied, hastily pulling her clothes on while Henry watched in amusement, propped up by one arm.
“Any particular reason why you are covering up such a wonderful sight this morning?”
“I would like to start on your essay this morning, sir. If you wait half an hour or so, I’ll sort out breakfast for us.”
Henry shook his head, kicking the duvet aside and sliding out of bed. Completely unabashed he moved towards her and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll sort out breakfast. I’d rather you spent the extra time organising your thoughts.”
“Is there any particular reason for this, sir?” Jenna asked, her face flushed pink.
“I would like to read what you write before saying anything more.”
“Alright, sir.” She paused a moment. “I may be back late today, too. I think that I will try to go and talk to Jasmine first.” She paled a little and swallowed, Henry’s hand immediately reaching for her chin, tugging her eyes back upwards and meeting them with his own stern, confident gaze.
“You have done nothing wrong, remember?” He told
her matter of factly, the surety in his tone sending shivers and confidence through her. “Jasmine is the only one who has done something wrong, and so you are not going to apologise for any of the things that she saw. You will go in and, with no anger or trace of hurt in your tone, let her know what she had done wrong and give her an opportunity to apologise, after which you will continue the conversation as if nothing has happened. Do not allow her to upset or intimidate you. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Jenna felt solid, extremely controlled and sure and safe.
All in all, a heck of a lot better than she did when she made her way to the hotel where Jasmine was staying. Every step that she took felt like a step closer to entering the lion’s den. Cool wind chilled her bundled up skin as she filled herself with negative expectations for the meeting. She even felt out of place entering the building, as if someone would suddenly burst out at her with accusations born of conversations with her sister.
Upon seeing her though, Jenna highly doubted that she had said a word.
Slightly pale and gaunt, Jasmine looked nothing like her usual self. She was Jasmine in tight clothing that showed off her generous curves, and Jasmine with effortlessly neat hair; but she was Jasmine who had clearly been missing out on sleep. She looked slightly afraid as Jenna entered the room, a pillow held tightly to her chest as she sat on the large bed, her knees raised and drawn close to herself. Jenna swore she even saw her tremble.
“Hey,” Jenna said stiffly, the thickness of the air between them tangible, forcing Jenna to wade through the awkwardness as she haltingly made her way closer to the bed.
Still Jasmine didn’t speak, and Jenna looked around the room fleetingly, occupying herself as she thought of something, anything to say while the loudest part of her demanded that she simply wait for her sister to speak and, as Henry had decided she should, apologise.
Jenna waited.
Jasmine didn’t move.
Taking a large breath, Jenna turned her entire body to face her sister head-on, straightening her posture and raising her chin defiantly as she prepared to defend her wondrous dominant lover. Her eyes gleamed startlingly, staring as if through the other woman, but her voice was quiet and calm; in fact it was the epitome of serene.
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