He crouched so he could look her in the eye. “I knew you were not a natural sub, Alana, but I had no idea that you were a spoiled and petulant woman who was only concerned with her own pleasure. You haven’t even tried to take this beating.”
His eyes chilled her. Right now they weren’t just grey. They were more like a storm-enraged sea, and equally as uninviting. For the first time, she desperately wondered if she would have been better off staying at home and finding someone to play with at one of the clubs.
But that’s not what she wanted.
She’d tried that and found it totally unfulfilling.
“A beating is not meant to feel good, unless that’s its intent.”
“But…” Tears fell, even though she tried desperately to blink them back. His hand in her hair pulled viciously, and she was desperate to escape.
“You expected me to continue those gentle strokes?”
“No.” Yes. She’d expected him to warm her up with a few more lashes, and then lay into her for the last one or two. But not all ten.
“You, sub, will not top from the bottom.”
Unexpectedly, he ground his mouth against hers. He kept her head painfully imprisoned as he forced his tongue into her mouth. He thrust, and she met him with a parry. He tasted of power, of brandy. He dominated her thoroughly, even in the kiss.
He released her abruptly and she struggled to maintain her balance.
“You will take ten of my best. Or use your safe word.”
He waited.
She shook her head. She wouldn’t fail. Wouldn’t.
“Show me your safe signal.”
Gulping convulsively, she did as he instructed.
“Ten more.”
“Yes, Master,” she whispered.
“In that case, resume your position. Spread your legs. Compose yourself.”
Her sobs quieted into hiccups. She forced herself to breathe.
Before she was completely ready, he caught the outside of her right thigh with the tip of his belt.
She quietly cried out.
She released her grip on the bench. “Master,” she whispered.
The second stung just as bad. She wiggled and tried to escape. And the third felt even more intense.
“Take it,” he told her.
She cried as he delivered the fourth stroke.
“Grip the bench.”
She did, and she gasped as the belt caught her between the legs.
“Relax into it,” he told her.
She nodded, her hair blocking her vision. Honestly, she had no idea what he was talking about. Relax into pain?
The next landed across the fleshiest part of her butt cheeks.
Then she stopped fighting, not just him, but herself and her responses. She surrendered to the inevitability and thought of Ethan standing behind her in shirtsleeves and the crisp starch in the material. She thought of the sharp creases in his trousers. To this man, precision mattered. She thought of his belt, the leather warmed from his body. And the fact she was having a dream come true. She wanted to be here.
She was his sub. He was the centre of her universe, and right now, she was the centre of his.
Suddenly the pain no longer seemed so searing.
“That’s a girl. Two more.”
Only two more? Surely it was more.
She gripped the sides of the bench. She breathed. And she took her stripes.
“You may kneel.”
As horrible as it had been, as painful and intense, it was over. She’d survived it.
And as her pulse returned to normal, she realised it hadn’t been as bad as she feared. It hadn’t been as bad as she’d convinced herself it was. Her bottom had been well and truly heated, yet she doubted there would be bruising or even welts.
Considering it was a beating, it hadn’t been terribly intense.
Ethan didn’t say anything for long moments, and she composed herself, parting her thighs and putting her hands behind her neck.
“The next time you’re taking a beating, Alana, that type of behaviour will not be tolerated.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Breathe. Concentrate on pleasing me, rather than on what you’re feeling.”
How could she do anything else? Her thoughts were consumed with him. There was no one else right now. His refusal to go easy on her because she lost her composure did something funny to her insides, knotted them up. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“I wondered if you’d remember your manners.”
“I…” Her mouth was dry. “I’m glad you didn’t relent.”
“You’re here to be trained, not coddled.”
He left her alone for long minutes. Silence, except for the distant ticking of a grandfather clock and slight pop from the dying fire, roared in her ears.
Because of the silence, her thoughts stayed on the punishment. That was likely his intent, she knew. The man understood the psychological implication of what he was doing, making the experience even richer.
She thought of him, standing behind her, focused on her submission and his determination to tame her. “I’ve never experienced anything like that.” Despite herself, her pussy was getting wet. “May I ask a question?”
When he didn’t answer, she went on, “Did it please you? Did beating me please you?” Desperately, she wanted the answer to be yes.
“It did.”
“Do it again,” she begged.
Chapter Six
He’d never come across a woman like her, a sub like her. Not that sub was quite the right word. He’d had women, and men, kiss his feet, pleading for his lash, but never immediately after a beating.
“I want to apply what you’ve taught me.”
She was relentless. Of course, he knew this from her persistence in tracking him down. And it was that persistence that had worn him down and he was afraid, would continue to do so.
She was something, this American.
For minutes, he didn’t respond.
To her credit, she hadn’t broken position to turn around and look at him. And he was rather enjoying the view of her reddened arse and thighs. Well, then.
Ethan crossed to the far side of the room and rang a bell. But she continued to tamp down her curiosity.
“Sir?” Thomas enquired, appearing in the room mere moments later.
“I’d like you to lash the sub.”
He heard her gasp. She started to turn towards him, perhaps to protest, but she stopped herself.
“My pleasure, Master,” Thomas said.
“Alana?” Ethan enquired.
“If it pleases you, Master.”
It didn’t matter if she’d uttered the words through gritted teeth after all. “The idea of having Thomas beat you definitely pleases me. I want to see your arse get even redder, and I want to see if you’ll take the beating I’ve ordered because it makes me happy to see you suffer.”
She nodded.
“Thomas?”
The servant nodded to him. Then, looking at Alana, he said, “Position yourself over the bench, sub.”
Even though Ethan was a few metres away from her, he could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest. He even heard her whispered self-coaching, “Grace and elegance” as she draped herself across the kneeling bench.
But she didn’t complain as she spread her legs, and bent over as far as she could. Maybe there was hope.
His cock was hard. He needed to fuck the little hussy, and soon. “Point your toes a bit towards each other,” he said. “That’ll expose more of your pussy to our view.”
Slowly, she complied.
“Twelve,” he instructed, so both Thomas and Alana knew his expectations.
Alana’s breath hitched.
With the first five, then the additional ten, she’d already taken fifteen. Admittedly, they hadn’t all been powerful, but still, he knew she was feeling the sting.
“What implement would you like me to use, Master?”
“My belt.”
Thomas shrugged out of his suit jacket and tossed it on the back of a chair. He turned up his shirtsleeves, and the passage of time just gave Alana longer to squirm a little and think about what was coming. “Perfect.”
Her hands gripped the sides of the bench, and her beautiful hair, highlighted with blonde streaks from the Florida sun, all but brushed the tile floor as she waited.
Thomas had a different style than Ethan, and he always enjoyed watching the other man wield a whip or flogger.
He snapped the belt in the air behind her, and she jumped.
Ethan grinned.
Since she was distracted, the first blow from the belt caught her completely unaware. It landed in that tender, gorgeous sweet spot where her upper thigh became the swell of her buttocks, just on the underside. A perfect cut. She yelped.
Ethan’s cock became even harder.
He didn’t coach Thomas, didn’t need to.
The chauffeur landed the next three in the exact same spot, prolonging her agony and making her whimper.
Make that four.
Thomas was nothing, if not precise.
But she’d taken half the beating already without breaking position. Ethan was unaccountably pleased. He’d never turned a sub over to another person until much farther along in their training. But with this one, he broke all the rules.
Now that he’d reached the halfway mark, Thomas offered a silent few seconds respite from her beating. She took the opportunity to turn her toes back inward. Maybe her desire to please her master was stronger than her desire to sit back and enjoy while he gave her multiple orgasms.
Thomas drew back his arm to continue her thrashing, but Ethan raised a hand. He moved over to Alana and put a hand between her legs.
She wriggled her hips backwards, wordlessly seeking his touch. But he found what he was looking for. Dampness. “Seems our little sub is enjoying her beating, Thomas.” Despite what her letter said, despite what her mouth said, she definitely had an exhibitionist tendency. Why else would she be shamelessly trying to fuck his hand? Why else would she fantasise about Thomas watching while Ethan spanked her? Exploiting her exhibitionist tendency would be a pleasure.
He moved away and waited for Thomas to continue.
He did, and Alana surrendered completely.
By the time Thomas had delivered the final stripe, she was all but grinding her hips into the wooden structure. Her arse was bright red. Welts were raised, and he suspected one or two might bruise. “You can stop humping the furniture,” he told her.
“Oh!”
He nodded, and Thomas placed the belt on the chair before rolling down his sleeves and collecting his jacket.
Alana went to kneel.
“Stay where you are,” he told her.
He moved behind her and fingered her pussy.
With a needy moan, she adjusted her stance to give him better access. He dropped his cane and placed a palm on the small of her back for balance.
“What do you want?”
“I need to thank…need to thank Thomas for the beating.”
“You’re welcome,” he said on his way out of the room.
“Now what do you need?” Ethan asked.
“I…” She panted. “Oh. Oh. My God. Please!”
“Please what?”
“I beg you. Stop fingering me.”
“Because?”
She thrust her hips backwards. “I need to come.”
“You don’t have permission.”
“I know! So please… Stop touching me.”
“If I don’t?”
“I’ll come! And then I’ll be…be naughty. And then I’ll be punished.”
“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
“Mas-ter!”
She was right there. Another scrape across her clitoris and she’d explode. So he stopped. “Kneel. Legs as far apart as you can get them.”
She sobbed, great gulping sounds that might have swayed a lesser trainer. And to tell the truth, nearly swayed him. “Cup your breasts.”
She moaned. And even though she was on her knees, she swayed slightly.
“Breathe,” he reminded her once again. “Compose yourself.”
Minutes later, when he saw that she’d gotten her breathing under control, he asked, “Can you see how hard my cock is?”
She nodded.
“Ask permission to suck it.”
“Please, Master. May I suck your cock?”
“You may.” He moved in front of her, and he enjoyed watching her motions. She was very deliberate as she unfastened the top button of his trousers, and then lowered the zipper.
“Master has a drop of cum on his cockhead.”
“Lick it off.”
She did.
Hardly anything was as sweet. One hand propped on the cane, he dug the second into her hair to cradle her skull so she didn’t pull away.
She began to suck, taking first the head, then more and more of his shaft. His head fell backwards, and he felt her other hand cradle his testicles. “Good,” he approved. “Take more.” He rocked his hips forward, forcing more of his cock into her mouth.
When he felt an ejaculation building, he stopped her.
“But Master!”
Thankfully he’d gotten his rocks off in Thomas’ arse, otherwise, he’d have spilled inside her. And he wasn’t ready to give her that honour yet.
He released her hair and pulled his pants back up. “Zip me up, sub.”
With an adorable scowl, she did.
“Am I right in thinking you didn’t have time for your morning enema yet?”
“Morning…?”
“Was the bag not in your bathroom?”
He saw a furious blush creep up her face. “Alana?”
She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “Yes. There is a bag in my bathroom.”
“And?”
“Enemas weren’t on the list,” she said.
“Go on.”
“If they were, I would have marked no.”
“You’d have…?” He shook his head. “Little one, that’s not open to discussion.”
“You said we need excellent communication.”
“We’re going to trip up over an enema?”
She looked up at him mutinously. Her jaw was set, and her back teeth were obviously ground together.
“Have you never done anal play?”
“No.”
“And yet you’ve had relationships you’d describe as BDSM?”
She nodded.
“How many holes do you have?”
Taking her time, obviously being very deliberate, she said, “Three.”
“And how many available to your master?”
She dragged her lower lip between her teeth.
He went carefully. He’d had no idea they’d entered a minefield. She’d try a threesome, she wanted to be beat, she had exhibitionist tendencies, and she balked at a required enema? “Are you willing to use your safe word over this?”
She didn’t answer.
“Alana?”
“You’re not willing to negotiate?”
He couldn’t. He’d lose control immediately if he allowed her to keep any part of herself private from him. “Do you have a legitimate reason for your hesitation?”
“I think it’s…”
“A legitimate reason,” he reminded her. “Something other than what you think?”
She shook her head.
“You can have no secrets from me, Alana,” he said, keeping his voice even. He gave her some space, crossing the room to sit in his wing chair. “I am, however, willing to let you administer your own enema for the first few days.”
“You mean… You’d actually want to give me one?” She shuddered.
If it wasn’t so serious, he might laugh. “How many holes do you have?” he asked again.
“Three.” It was hardly a whisper.
“And how many must be available for your Master’s pleasure?”
/> She hesitated.
He tried again. “You’ve done more than your fair share of reading, Alana. You’re not a BDSM innocent. How many of those three holes must be made available for your Master’s pleasure if you’re to be a fully trained sub?”
She dropped her head.
“So you see, I cannot negotiate this.”
Miserably, she nodded.
“Your choice. You can administer it. Or Thomas will. Or I will. But within four days, either Thomas or I will be giving you a daily enema. More often if it suits me. But it’s always your choice, Alana. We can move forward. Or we can end here, now.”
* * * *
Her choice wasn’t really a choice.
She either wanted to be a sub, or she didn’t.
She didn’t have a legitimate reason. She just hated the idea of shoving a gallon of water up her arse. And what went in had to come out.
“Upstairs with you, then. For your first time, you only have to fill it half full.”
And wasn’t it her lucky day?
She stood, rather ungracefully after being on her knees for so long. He said nothing, though, about her awkward motions.
She followed the familiar route back to her room.
Using the same technique that she did at work, she decided not to stall. Get the most disagreeable task out of the way first.
She wasn’t quite sure how it worked.
“It’s actually easier if someone else does it for you.”
She jumped. She hadn’t even seen him walking down the hallway. “Are you a fucking ghost?” she said to Thomas. “You’re always around and I never hear you.” She scowled at him.
“Are you always disagreeable when Master is out of earshot?”
“Piss off.”
“No worries.” He raised his hand. “Just trying to help.”
“Why does every man on the face of the planet want to stick something up my ass?”
“Actually, I couldn’t care less. Go stick the nozzle up your own arse.”
He walked off. She sighed. “Thomas!”
He kept walking.
“I’m sorry.”
He ignored her.
“Please!”
Finally, he stopped.
“I’d appreciate your help.”
He came back. “You’re here of your own choice,” he told her.
“I know.”
“Ethan’s being more than generous with you. I’m surprised he didn’t march you up the stairs and give you a full dose and stand there while you eliminated it.”
Signed, Sealed & Delivered Page 6