Liberated Heart

by Measha Stone

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Erin’s heart pounded in her ears. Sweat began to mass produce all over her body as she watched him walk toward the closed cabinets. Though they were locked, she had time enough while she was waiting to guess what was inside of them. Had Bradley informed everyone what he was going to do to her that evening? Had he told everyone how she lied and betrayed his trust?

  A short while after his text, came a few more from Kelly, apologizing for letting the cat out of the bag and reprimanding her for not letting her know the cat was inside the damn bag to begin with.

  “Remove your clothes.” Bradley’s direction swept over the room, the silky smooth deep tone of his voice reminding her how hard she had fallen for him. Without hesitation, she slipped out of her shirt and pants, folding everything and stacking her clothing in a pile near the door of the room.

  When she turned around to face him, his eyes bore into her. His eyes. A connection he would demand from her, and one she would be hard pressed to hold. She had made him angry, but much more than that, she had disappointed him.

  In his right hand he held a long wooden paddle. During their play times together she’d learned how much she hated wooden implements. At first she had thought they would be thuddy, but she learned quickly how untrue that was. The sting of his paddles bit into her skin more than his belt. Maybe the way he used it, or the way she felt it, either way, she disliked the wooden paddle, and he knew it.

  If it were a different situation, maybe she would have found the whole thing entirely erotic. His black tank top showcased how fit the man was. His tattoo was partially hidden on his shoulder, but she could make out most of it on his arm. The warm lips that could bring her to orgasm too damn quickly, and with such skill, were thinned and pressed firmly together. Nothing about his stance suggested play. This was all business.

  “Tell me why we’re here.” His sharp words cut through the room.

  A chill ran over her bare skin and she fought against the urge to cover herself. Even if only to cover her chest, to have something hidden from his gaze.

  “I went to see Jonathan without telling you, and I didn’t correct you when you assumed I was going out with Kelly. And I didn’t tell you about my decision to sell my house.” She clenched her hands at her sides, and it occurred to her that it might not be just the fact that she hadn’t told him about her decision that upset him. “I’m not moving in with you. I mean, that wasn’t my plan. I wouldn’t do that without talking with you. The house will take a while to sell, I’m going to start looking for a place of my own.” She hadn’t thought his face could grow darker, but before her eyes a shadow crossed over his features. A storm brewed in his eyes, and his lips were actually turning white from the pressure he’d put on them. Had she misread his irritation?

  He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, as though needing a moment to collect himself. She tried to hold steady, but damn if she didn’t want to throw open the door to the room and sprint home. Naked or not.

  “You decided to get your own place? And you didn’t tell me? Didn’t even open that for a discussion?” The low calm of his voice unsettled her even more than the heated glare he shot at her. “I’m not sure which transgression to address first!” He waved the paddle in the air in an exasperated gesture. “No. I do. Bend over the bench. We’ll address the lying. Where you’ll be living we can discuss tomorrow. When we both have had time process this evening. Because I wasn’t bullshitting you, pet. This is going to be a severe punishment. Use your safeword if you need a break, but there will be no escaping what you have coming. I will stop if you use your safeword, but it only pauses the punishment. Do you understand?”

  He’d still called her pet, at least that was something. “Yes, sir.” She almost didn’t hear herself, her vocal cords nearly paralyzed.

  He pointed to the bench with the paddle, and she took one shaky step after another until she had reached the cushioned bench. She wasn’t new to the apparatus; he’d fucked her over one only a few days ago when she met him for dinner after work. Having a boyfriend who owned a dungeon came in handy for an evening tryst.

  “Shouldn’t we lock the door?” she asked.

  “No. There aren’t locks on the doors to the private rooms.” He explained and pointed at the corner of the room. A small video camera pointed at her. “If security sees a submissive calling her safeword, and the dom isn’t paying attention to it, they can get in without having to break down the doors or having to fuck around with a key.”

  Her blood ran cold. When they’d played at the club the previous times, it had been either in the main room or his office when he wanted to fuck her. His office had a lock. “You mean someone is watching this?” Her hands rested on the bench, feeling the cool leather beneath her, but not finding any relief from the heat in her body.

  “Does that bother you, pet? You’ve been spanked, flogged, hell I’ve even belted you in the main room. People saw you then. What’s so bothersome now? That someone is watching you be punished? That they know you’ve been a very naughty girl and need to have that sexy ass of yours paddled? Do you think they haven’t seen this before?”

  Another wary glance up at the camera, and she took a steady breath. Her limbs trembled, her eyes filled with tears and her chest ballooned with pressure. The paddle clunked to the floor and his hands were on her a moment later.

  Cupping her chin, he brought his nose close to hers, until they were near to touching.” Give me your eyes, Erin. Your eyes.” He commanded her to obey in a smooth controlled voice. She managed to open them, not even realizing she’d clenched them shut. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks. He wiped them away with his hand. “It’s just you and me. Forget the cameras. They are here for your safety, nothing more.”

  She tried to nod, but his hands were holding her face steady. “Take slow breaths. Breathe for me baby.”

  After all the rules she’d broken, all the things she’d done wrong that day, he was trying to soothe her worries? Where did this man come from? Once she had her breath back under her own control, he released her and placed a soft kiss to her lips. The warm tingle his kiss left on her lingered after he pulled away.

  “Are you ready, bad girl?” He picked up the paddle again and moved away from the bench to give her room to get into position.

  “Yes, sir.” One more quick glance at the cameras, and she made her way to the kneeling portion of the bench. Her stomach fluttered with nerves, and her hands were already a sweaty mess as she brought herself over the bench. Her breasts pressed against the leather and her hands reached for the grip bars.

  He had tried to soothe her. At a moment when she felt panic and fear, he’d pushed aside his anger and brought her back to her safe place. With him.

  After everything he’d done for her over the past several weeks, all he asked in return was her obedience. Just follow his rules. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to do that when it came to dealing with Jonathan. He might have said she couldn’t go alone, but when she forced herself to look at the truth of the matter, she knew he would have been reasonable. It’s how he did things. All she had to do was submit to him. And she’d fallen flat on her face.

  Isn’t it what she wanted? Isn’t that why she’d gone to the club that first time? Easy to submit to his sexual dominance, it turned her into a gooey mess just to be stared down by him when he held his flogger in hand. But submitting to his rules outside the bedroom, when it came to something she wasn’t sure she’d have her way, she had failed him.

  “Don’t fly away on me, pet.” His warm hand grabbed her ass roughly, squeezing and kneading until she let out a gasp. “You stay with me. Do you understand?” No moving off into happy subspace, got it.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered before pressing her forehead to the leather. Her chest ached with her regret.

  “I know you are.” His hand stroked over her ass, as though he were priming it for what would come next. There would be very little in the way of a warm up. St
eadily his hand began to come down on her upturned bottom. A slow warmth began to spread across both cheeks. Not really hard, but not soft either, making her dangle in the little space between pain and pleasure.

  “Punishment isn’t about making you sorry for what you did, it’s about paying the price for it. Consequences, pet.” He stopped spanking to rub her cheeks. His fingers were rough as he moved over her skin. When his nails bit into her flesh, she squealed and jerked her body forward. “Do that again, and I’ll restrain you,” he warned her and gave her three hard swats to the curve of her ass. “If you need a moment, what do you say?” He lightly slapped her left thigh.

  “I say mercy.”

  “Yes, and if you say it, I’ll give you a few moments to collect yourself. If you need to me to stop entirely what will you say?”

  “I’ll say red.” Her stomach soured, the longer he drew out the beginning the stronger the knot in her stomach twisted.

  “Yes. But that won’t get you out of your punishment. It will only delay it. Do you understand?”

  “Yes sir.” She nodded but didn’t think he was even looking at her anymore. His hands pulled her cheeks apart and she could feel his undivided attention being paid to her back hole.

  He didn’t comment, didn’t even touch her, just let her stew in her own embarrassment of what he was doing. Her face heated, and a new layer of regret began to form. All she had to do was be honest with him that morning. Have a conversation. Instead, she’d done what she wanted and not thought about him. Not entirely true, she did think about him, and then tore the decision away from him about what should have happened. A true submissive wouldn’t have done that. A true submissive would have given him the issues and let him lead her, or talk with her. He’d never once dismissed her thoughts or feelings, and a true submissive wouldn’t repay that sort of understanding and caring with deceit.

  Her eyes bolted open as the first strike of the paddle landed against her ass cheeks. The force pushed her forward on the bench, and she cried out from the pins and needle sting of the damn wood. Again it fell on her and she clenched her fists around the grip handles. Another blow, to her thighs, and she grunted. Sure that bee stings would be less painful than that damn paddle, she bit down on her lip and waited for the next blow

  “Aagh! That thing hurts!” she cried out after the next stroke.

  He pressed the wood against her ass, which no longer felt cool to the touch at all. “Does it?” He asked, rubbing the implement in a circle over her burning cheeks. “Then maybe you should be honest with me.” He pulled back and unleashed another stinging blow.

  “It stings so much!” she cried out, the pain in her backside starting to spike her temper.

  “Who’s actions led us here? Mine or yours?” He placed a steady hand on the small of her back. A simple touch.

  She felt the tears burn her eyes again. “Mine did, sir,” she admitted on a choked sob.

  “Yes,” another stinging blow sent a jolt of electricity through her body, “yours did.” And then came another. Before she could catch her breath he continued with a volley of swats. The burn of one stroke barely registering before the next was delivered. Sharp pin point sensations shot through her over and over again. She cried out after each, letting the tears fall down her cheeks freely and wishing she could say something to alleviate the pain in her chest.

  He was unrelenting, as he always reminded her, over and over again she felt the paddle contact her ass. Her upper body collapsed on the bench, her mind tried to whirl away, to find that sweet spot where his spankings and floggings often sent her, but the paddle pulled her back. Each time she thought she’d found a place to hide, he would move his strokes to her thighs or to the other cheek, higher than lower.

  Unable to hold still anymore, her ass began to dance, trying to avoid his punishing hand. He wouldn’t be deterred. One arm wrapped around her waist, holding in her place as he finished the spanking with a quick dozen swats in rapid fire succession.

  “Oh. God! I’m sorry!” she screamed out. Mercy played on her lips, ready to throw it out there to catch her breath, but just as she began to call out for him to relent, the paddle was placed on her back, no longer being held in his hand.

  It took several moments to realize how hard she was sobbing. His hands weren’t punishing anymore, they were stroking her back, her hair. He whispered how good she was to take her paddling so well. Reassuring her.

  “Come on, pet. Up.” His hands helped her move from the bench.

  Her ass should have been smoking, it burned so much. With each move of her legs the tight burn of her skin began anew. She’d never felt so raw before. Tempted to touch her skin, just to be sure it was all still there, she began to move her hand behind her. A sharp slap to her ass stopped her. She jumped up to her tip toes, but didn’t look at him. What sort of glare would she receive now? How much more could she disappoint him in one day?

  “Now, I have some questions.” He helped her walk over to the St. Andrews Cross and turn so her back was pressed against it. She thanked the genetics of her parents for making her the right height so her ass didn’t touch any part of the wooden X.

  Avoiding his eyes while he went about securing her wrist to the top rings, she turned her face away. The tears weren’t rolling anymore, but she could feel as much pressure in her chest as before.

  After the last clink of the bonds signaled her ankles were locked in place, she drew in a ragged breath. How could she look at him? He held so much confidence and control. The perfect dominant, while she showed how horrible of a submissive she could be.

  He went back to the cabinet and came back with a small metal bucket. “I’m going to do some decorating, and then we’ll start our conversation.” Between two strong fingers he held a wooden clothes pin.

  “Open your mouth.” He held the handle of the small bucket to her lips. She took the handle between her teeth, surprised by how lightweight it was.

  Taking one pin out of the bucket, he pulled a long rope out from his back pocket. Wasn’t he the perfect boy scout too, always prepared. Who knew what else he had in those pockets of his cargo pants.

  She felt a sharp pinch to her right arm, just under her bicep when he placed the rope between her flesh and the pin, securing it onto her skin. She winced at the pain, but had to admit to herself it wasn’t overly bad. Even when he flicked it with his finger, she managed to keep from crying out.

  He continued in this manner up her arm, and over both breasts before finishing down her left arm. When he was finished, a steady burn ran over her arms and chest, but no worse than the white fire on her ass.

  “Ah, you drooled in my bucket.” He tugged the handle out of her mouth and she licked her lips, trying to wipe away the spittle that ran down her chin. “You can clean it later,” he assured her and put the bucket on the floor, away from them. “Now.” He began to play with the ends of the clips, adjusting and readjusting until she was squirming from his administrations. “What happened with Jonathan?”

  Jonathan? He wanted to talk about Jonathan now? “I, I, what?” She tried to focus, but he continued to unclasp and re-clasp the pins on her arms.

  “Your dinner. What did you and he talk about?”

  “We didn’t have dinner. I just asked him to sign the papers for the listing.” She couldn’t have eaten in Jonathan’s presence even if she had wanted to. The man made her sick with his weakness and manipulations. She couldn’t imagine Bradley ever doing what Jonathan did. He was too honest, too open with his communication to let something like his unhappiness go unsaid.

  “Was he alone?”

  How could he know? “No.” He stopped tinkering with a clip and stepped in front of her, making her stare into his eyes.

  “Who?”

  “His girlfriend,” she whispered, waiting for the pain, the sharp sting in her chest, but it didn’t come to her. “He brought his girlfriend, but she didn’t sit with us.”

  “Did he give you any trouble?” Of course he
would be concerned about that, about how she had handled it, how it made her feel. Meanwhile she hadn’t been concerned at all about how it would hurt him, or anger him if he found out about her lie.

  “No, not really. He signed the papers. And… he said he saw us together.” Bradley’s eyebrows raised, a prompt to go on. “He said… he tried to be protective, said if you ever hurt me—” She closed her eyes as he removed another peg and moved it to a new place before securing it. “I laughed at him and left.”

  “Then you came straight here because you got my text.”

  “Yes. I’m really sorry. I didn’t think. I mean, I’m sorry.” Fresh tears burned her eyes.

  “I know,” was all he said, picking up the end of the rope. Pressing his body against hers, his fingers played with her nipple, plucking and pinching until it stood fully erect for him, then dragging his nails down the length of her torso until he reached her mound. With her ankles bound apart, she couldn’t pull her legs closed even if she wanted to. With the skill she’d come to depend on, he slid his fingers through her folds. “Wet, even when you’re being punished.”

  Two fingers sunk into her and she clenched down on him. “Oh, don’t worry, pet. You aren’t coming tonight. Maybe not even tomorrow night. But definitely not tonight, but that doesn’t mean you don’t get to feel the pleasure you’re giving up by being a naughty girl.”

  The heel of his hand ground into her clit as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. She kept her eyes on him, unable to look away from him as he drove her quickly to an edge he would pull away from at any moment. Her thighs began to tremble and her stomach sucked in tight, the pressure built to uncomfortable heights. Just when she thought he’d changed his mind he pulled his hand away, and ripped the rope across her chest, yanking off every clothes pin in a zipper like fashion.