She reminded herself only an hour ago, she’d marked her letter yes, where it asked if she wanted a threesome with Thomas. This wasn’t much different.
“We’re waiting,” Ethan said.
With nerveless fingers, she undid her buttons, from the bottom, up.
Then she shrugged off the shirt and allowed it to flutter to the floor.
“You told her to wear a bra?”
“I didn’t mean a twenty-four hour, nineteenth century one,” Ethan said. “You’ll take her shopping?”
“If you promise we can burn this one.”
“Alana, give your bra to Thomas.”
They weren’t serious. The bra had been seventy-five dollars! Never in her life had she spent that much on lingerie. And neither of them seemed to care.
Thomas held out his hand.
Dutifully, she gave it to him.
Thomas whistled. “Master, I changed my mind about taking her shopping. I don’t believe she should be allowed to wear a bra ever again.”
“Lovely breasts,” Ethan said. “They’ll look good in bondage.”
Her stomach knotted, but her pussy moistened. His words had that effect on her. She wanted to try what he suggested, and at the same time, it scared the daylights out of her.
She bent to unfasten the straps on her heels. Then she slid them off.
Next came the skirt.
It hadn’t hidden much, but it had given her a small amount of modesty.
“I like the stockings and garter belt,” Thomas said.
“Leave them on,” Ethan instructed. “Now pretend to get in the tub and talk us through your naughtiness.”
Feeling a fool, she began by sitting on the floor. Thanks to the fire, it wasn’t as cold as she thought it might be. She extended her legs in front of her and put her hands palm down on the floor next to her. Then she tipped back her head. Her hair flowed behind her. It had been pinned up in the tub, but she figured she might be able to hide behind it now.
“The bubbles are foaming,” she said. She closed her eyes. This had to be easier if she wasn’t looking at the men, and if she wasn’t aware of them staring at her. Behind her, the wood in the fireplace popped and hissed. “And I notice how tired my muscles are from the flight and from being on my knees.”
She waited for them to say something, but they didn’t.
Knowing her words were rushed and stumbled over, she continued, “So I sink down lower in the tub so the jetted water can work out some of the kinks.” She shrugged and wiggled, so that she simulated getting closer to the jets.
“I have these random thoughts about everything that’s happened since I got off the plane, and I go back to the fantasy I’ve had for years, the one…” She stopped for a breath. “The one where I’ve been naughty…”
“That one’s easy for her, Master.”
“Unless you’re wanting a spanking, Thomas…”
Her eyes opened, and she tipped her head to look at the men. They weren’t serious?
“If that’s your pleasure.”
Thomas had said he wasn’t a slave, but obviously he wouldn’t protest if Ethan told him to drop his trousers and reach for the floor.
She wanted to see that. Desperately wanted to see that.
And more… Would she ever get to the point where she just calmly accepted everything Ethan demanded of her, from her?
“You were being naughty,” Ethan prompted.
“As usual,” Thomas added.
“I’m wearing a skirt,” she said, tipping back her head again. “And Master Ethan tells me to pull it up. I’m wearing panties…I mean knickers…and Ethan makes me take them off. He’s sitting on a chair that looks like the one in my bedroom. And he tells me to lie across his knee.” The going got more difficult. “So I do. He rubs my butt cheeks a few times, and I’m enjoying his attention. It feels so good. When he actually hits me for the first time, I’m shocked. The breath rushes straight from me. I yelp and I wiggle and I try to get way, but he holds me firm. By then, I knew I was getting wet, and I desperately wanted to touch myself.”
Worrying her lower lip, she moved to her knees. She told herself this shouldn’t be difficult, she’d done it in the back of the car. But it was. She spread her legs and titled her pelvis forward. “Then, I look to the side, and I see Thomas standing there. I notice the bulge in his pants. He’s got a hard-on from watching Ethan punish me.”
Resuming her confession, she said, “I parted my labia…”
“Show us.”
That was Ethan’s voice.
She used the fingers of her right hand to expose herself. “And in my fantasy, Master spanks me again and again. My hair is wild about my face, and I’m crying, and I’m begging for him to stop. I’m promising that I’ll behave. But Master is having none of it. I see Thomas stroke himself through his pants.”
“Masturbate,” Ethan instructed.
She did, playing with her clit, finger-fucking her pussy.
“How many times are you spanked, naughty girl?”
“Dozens.” By now she was deep in the fantasy. “Master is disappointed in me, and I’m horribly upset to have let him down. But I know I’ll do it again if it means he’ll keep punishing me with his hand.” She was gyrating, imagining his hand on her skin, making it hot, making her burn. “And Thomas is beating off, and he’s thinking how he wants a turn next, and I’m thinking I can’t take it… My ass already hurts. I’m begging. ‘Please. Please. I’ll behave. I promise. I…’”
“Come,” Ethan snapped.
“I… Master!” She shoved her fingers deep into her pussy.
“Come now.”
She did.
With a great shudder, a sigh, and a soft scream, she came. She’d forgotten about her embarrassment, forgotten she was being punished, forgotten she was being stared at.
It took long minutes for her to shake off the after effects of the orgasm. She didn’t remember the last time she’d climaxed so hard.
“You may thank me,” Ethan said.
She shook her head and brushed back her hair. “I’m sorry?”
“For the orgasm,” he prompted. “Thank me.”
He wasn’t smiling. Which meant he was serious. He wanted her to thank him for letting her come. Puzzled by the command, she nevertheless complied, “Thank you for the privilege of climaxing.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “And just for the record, you may not, as long as you are under my roof, ever orgasm without permission. Now go to your room.”
Her legs still wobbly, she stood. There was nothing graceful about the action.
“You do like challenges,” Thomas said to Ethan.
Nothing could have humiliated her more than having her flaws pointed out to the one man she wanted to please.
Horrified, she dashed from the room.
Upstairs, she slammed the door behind her. This time, it wasn’t punishment, it was a sanctuary.
Alana doubted she’d sleep well, but the flight, the excitement, the confusion, the mind-boggling events, and the orgasm all worked together to pull her under. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have anything to sleep in, or that the clothes she did have were lying in a heap on the drawing room floor, she was exhausted. The crisp sheets with the sumptuously high thread count finished her off.
And when she woke, Thomas was in her room, sliding a silver carafe onto the dresser.
“Master is feeling generous,” he told her. “Subs usually have to earn coffee.”
“It’s coffee? Real, honest to goodness coffee, and not tea?” She sat up, dragging the duvet with her. Not that he hadn’t already seen all she had to offer.
“You’re American,” he said, as if that explained everything, which, she supposed, it did. “Milk and sugar?”
“Have I died and gone to heaven? The man with the most gorgeous eyes on the face of the planet is bringing me coffee in bed?”
“I’ll take that as a yes, to both.” He prepared her coffee. “That fantasy
from last night?” He carried the cup and saucer to her.
Gratefully, she accepted.
“When it happens, both of us will spank you.”
The coffee sloshed over the rim and splashed on the saucer.
“I can hardly wait for the opportunity. Bring your letter. Master’s expecting you in the drawing room.”
The moment he shut the door behind him, she put the cup and saucer on the nightstand.
He’d shocked her.
And sent an illicit thrill through her.
The assault on her senses never let up.
She took a few sips from the delicious coffee, then carried it with her into the bathroom. She drank as fast as she could so she could brush her teeth and get ready to meet Ethan.
Since she’d been given no clothes or make up, getting ready was a breeze, if unsettling. She was stripped bare in all ways.
She gathered her letter, then hurried down the stairs. “Signed, sealed, and delivered,” she told him, extending the letter towards him.
“Cheeky,” he said. He took out the paper and looked at her, letting her know, without saying a word, that he’d noticed it had been wadded. He scanned the contents. “Better. Much better.” Then he looked at her a second time. “You listed your safe word.”
“See? I can follow directions.”
“Hacker?” he asked, raising a brow. “Your safe word is hacker?”
“It’s how I found you,” she explained. “Seemed appropriate.”
He grinned.
“I couldn’t think of anything else,” she admitted.
“Raise your index finger.”
Oh-kay. She did as instructed.
“That’s your safe signal,” he said. “For when you’re gagged.”
“Er… Gagged?” That was one of the things that had made her nervous. She’d listed that, hadn’t she? “I think I said that one pushes my limits.”
“You did.”
“And…?”
“I will push your limits. Even the things that are listed as non-negotiable are open to future discussion.”
Somehow her heart landed in her toes.
“The way you talk, princess, you’ll be wearing a gag often. Might as well get used to the idea.”
Her mind spiralled as she tried to remember the things she’d listed as no. He wouldn’t actually do them to her. Would he?
“Let’s make one thing perfectly clear, Alana. If you use your word or your signal,” he said, his facial features hardening as he again became a total Dom, “Thomas will be summoned. You’ll be delivered to Heathrow.”
Her mouth felt dry, like Death Valley in July. “No second chances?”
“As your trainer, I will recognise your limits. I will explore them and test them. I will recognise when to give you time to digest what will happen, and I will know when to push you past your own inhibitions. Communication is key. But if ever you do not trust me, you should leave. Are we clear?”
“Very.”
“Then, we’ll begin with your first lesson.”
“A spanking?”
“Move towards that kneeling bench. Rather than kneel on it, face me.”
This was what she was waiting for, had been hoping for.
There was no tension in his voice; there was no more emotion than if he inquired as to the weather.
After refilling his cup with, she assumed, tea…he was British after all and she could have assumptions, just like Thomas did…Ethan sat in a wingback chair. This morning, it was positioned differently. It faced away from the fireplace, towards the window, towards the kneeling bench. He laid his cane on the floor next to him. “Grace,” he reminded her. “Breathe.”
She drew a deep, fortifying gulp of air.
The coffee had warmed through her body, and she shook only slightly as she crossed the room on bare feet, striving for the elegance he wanted. She noticed that her clothes from the previous night had been removed. They were no where in sight. And she wondered if that scoundrel Thomas had really burned her prized bra.
“I believe I’ll remove that patch of your pubic hair.”
Alana nodded. She’d trimmed the thatch and shaved the outer edges, but she had figured it was easier to shave if Master preferred her bare than to grow it out if he’d rather she have a thick patch.
“Or rather, I’ll watch as Thomas does it.”
She opened her mouth to protest, then quickly closed it again. “If Master wishes it.” See? She’d learned something from listening to the exchange last night between Thomas and Ethan.
“Good girl.”
Her heart soared. Even the tiniest approval was enough to make her try harder.
“Thomas was right last night. You do have great tits, Alana,” he said. “They’re natural?”
“Yes, Sir.” She grinned impishly. “They would have been considerably larger if I had ordered them.”
“They’re brilliant the way they are. Fondle them.”
Aware of the window behind her, but also knowing he had a large private estate, she followed his instructions with only a slight hesitation. She cupped her breasts, holding them in her palms, and then she squeezed each nipple with her thumb and forefinger.
“Does that make your cunt wet?”
“Yes,” she admitted, her voice barely audible.
“Because you like to play with them or because you like me watching while you play with them?”
“Both. Mainly because you’re watching me.”
He took a drink while she continued to play with herself.
“Squeeze,” he told her. “Make it hurt.”
“My nipples are sensitive,” she told him.
“So much the better. You’ll feel the pain much more exquisitely when they’re clamped.”
She’d marked that she might like to try that. Obviously he took that as a green light.
“Now, the kneeling bench.”
The piece of wooden furniture had likely been fashioned for prayer, she realised. It was shaped sort of like an L. You could kneel on one pad and rest your chest on the upper one.
Completely naked, reminding herself she was supposed to breathe and practice grace, she knelt on the pad, uncertain what he expected. Knees together or apart? And her arms, where did they go? She could use the bench for support, she supposed, resting her hands on the top.
“In the absence of other instruction,” he said, quietly, “I require that you always have your legs apart, open for inspection, or if I, your Master chooses, for me to insert something in your cunt.”
She parted her knees.
“Hands behind your neck at all times, unless I’ve given you a different order. I want your entire body available, nothing hidden or protected.”
Once she was properly positioned, he said, “Good. But for the beating, I want you standing. Raise the kneeling pad, then bend over the top. If it helps, you can grip the sides.”
“Am I to be whipped?” Finally.
“You are.”
Elegance… Grace. She repeated the words as a mantra as she moved into position. Yeah. Right. Tell that to someone else. The collision of excitement and fear made grace and elegance both close to impossible.
She was hanging upside down, hair streaming down to the floor. She grabbed hold of the sides of the structure, and since it was solid wood, couldn’t see anything through it.
He was diabolical, she was convinced of it.
“There are a number of different reasons to beat a sub. One is for my pleasure. One is for punishment. Another is to establish boundaries. Or even to teach you the way a different implement feels…instructive, if you will. There’s always your favourite, as well, isn’t there? So that you can get off.”
“I like it when I get off.”
She heard Ethan chuckle. Then, moments later, the clatter of his cup and saucer on the sideboard. Then another sound. His cane on the floor?
“My belt it is,” he said.
She heard it slide free of its loops.
“I’m going to warm you up first. But not with my hand. I don’t want you getting confused with your fantasies. By warming you up, we’ll minimise bruising.”
The belt fell. Not hard at all. Nice.
He found an easy rhythm that she enjoyed. She got wet between the legs. Oh, yes, coming here was worth every penny.
“Now, before we begin, the beating you’re going to take isn’t about punishment,” he said by way of clarity. “You’ve been punished for all your infractions, swiftly and correctly. This one is instructive, so you’ll know the feel of my correction. You’ll know what you want to avoid. But if it were punishment, you’d feel it bite even more.”
Sensing he was waiting for acknowledgment, she nodded.
“How many strokes shall we begin with?”
“Seven.” Her favourite number. And she could take seven of anyone’s best. Seven was easy, easy.
“Ten.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Again, this is for no other reason than that I want to make sure you know who’s in charge.”
As if there was a doubt about that. She was the one who was all but naked, spread wide, and waiting for the first blow from his belt. She knew who was in charge.
When it landed, she yelped. It hurt much, much more than she believed possible. That wasn’t a thing like Tony had done to her at the club, wasn’t a damn thing like the ones Ethan had already laid across her arse.
The second, third, and fourth fell quickly, and just as hard.
“Position,” he warned when she started to stand.
“Master!” She wanted to stamp her foot. She couldn’t do it, couldn’t take it.
“We’ll begin again, then, shall we?”
“No!”
The belt fell on her bare ass again. “Stop!” She broke position.
She stood and reached back, both to soothe the searing pain and to protect herself from his beating.
She heard the clatter of his belt buckle on the floor.
Then his hand was in her hair and he brutally dragged up her head. She was aware of him leaning on his cane, but it didn’t impact his ability to master her completely, to make her tremble.
Her breaths were ragged.
Signed, Sealed & Delivered Page 5