“Much better,” he told her. He withdrew his fingers from her and said, “I’m going to fasten the gag into place.”
She nodded.
Slowly, he did, taking care not to catch her hair in the buckle.
“Show me your safe signal.”
She very nearly showed him a different finger.
Afraid of further punishment, though, she followed his instruction.
“Now stand up.”
All this and no real spanking? Was he out of his mind?
He helped her to stand, and he held her hands behind her back, his firm grip keeping her as secure as if she were in real bondage.
He walked her over to a mirror.
She was shocked at her reflection.
Her eyes were wide, terrified. Her hair was a mess, except for the parts secured by the strip of leather securing the gag. But the gag itself…? The ball was bright red. The leather band was black. She looked like a woman who’d been completely mastered.
“Not ridiculous.”
She nodded. “Is.” But the word was an incoherent mumble.
“Submissive,” he said. “Sexy.”
She blinked at his reflection.
“Sexy,” he affirmed. “For men who like submissives, for women, too, there’s nothing as alluring as seeing their chattel properly adorned. Within a few minutes, if we’re lucky, you’ll be drooling.”
She shook her head wildly.
“Now for your spanking. Prepare yourself. It won’t be a pleasant one. This spanking will be strictly for correction purposes, punishment for how badly you behaved while you were being gagged. Do you understand that?”
In the mirror, her gaze fixed on his, and she nodded.
“Do you submit to your punishment?”
She continued to regard him.
“Your hands are imprisoned,” he said. “Your lovely, but cheeky mouth is gagged, so you’ll have to nod to let me know you’re ready for your correction.”
There was an awful, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. But, bravely, she nodded.
“I should spank you?”
Again, she nodded.
“Hard? Like you deserve for being a naughty, disobedient slut?”
Her head fell forward. Her pussy was wet, and she was sure he knew it.
With his hand in her hair, he pulled her head backwards, forcing her to meet his gaze in the mirror.
“Alana?” he asked. Slowly, he continued, enunciating each word as he repeated his question, “Should you be punished for being a naughty, disobedient slut?”
Shamed, she nodded a final time.
He released his grip on her hair, then took her by the hand and led her back to the wing chair. Wordlessly, he urged her into the position she’d been in previously. He released her hand, she presumed, so she could balance herself.
When he rubbed her buttocks vigorously, she knew it didn’t mean he was behaving like a lover. She knew it meant he intended to give her a beating worse than the others he’d given her.
She tried to swallow and couldn’t. Breathe, she told herself. Which would have been easier if she weren’t upside down with her lungs squished.
He stopped touching her entirely.
Seconds dragged into minutes.
He was a master at sadism.
He knew how to prolong the agony of waiting.
She was tuned into all the different things she was thinking and feeling, all the different physical sensations, of not being able to drag in a full breath, of the discomfort in her muscles from being unable to move. And her jaw ached. Worse than not being able to talk or swallow was the pressure on her jaw. Even the nasty leather strap exerted small amounts of pain.
When the first blow finally came, his hand on her bare, sensitive skin, she yelped.
The second was mind-numbing.
The third caught the most fleshy part of her rear, and it didn’t hurt quite as bad.
But once she’d forced air into her lungs, he continued. The next few rained down without a break. She couldn’t absorb the pain. Instead, he added insult to insult, up and down her thighs, between her legs.
Despite her efforts to take the beating calmly, by coaching herself, she couldn’t. She tried to struggle away from the constant hits.
She was crying in earnest, his hand searing her skin.
This wasn’t like what she imagined. It wasn’t a thing like she’d hoped. In her fantasies, she’d had time to take each smack and enjoy it, even if it stung.
But this… This burned and, damn it, hurt.
“Please,” she said. But the word was muffled, lost.
“Show me your safe signal, sub.”
He’d stopped hitting her. Her body was on fire.
“Show me.”
Barely coherent, she showed him.
“Do you want to use it?”
She lowered her hand.
“Very well. Spread your legs.”
It took her mind long seconds to process his order and even longer to obey.
Brutally, he slapped her cunt.
Her head jerked up and she screamed.
“Are you wet?”
She nodded.
He slapped her cunt again.
She moaned.
“Again?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t quite catch that.”
“Yes.” Even she couldn’t decipher the word. Spit was building behind the gag, and she couldn’t swallow it away.
She was humiliated.
“Tip yourself forward a bit more. I want this next one to really hurt.”
Scared nearly out of her mind, but desperately wanting it, she dug her toes against the floor and moved her body scant centimetres. She was even more exposed. Totally vulnerable.
Smack!
She screamed. Arching her back she heaved, debilitated by its intensity.
She drooled, and she didn’t care. She was so overwhelmed, so shattered. So undone by his mastery.
“Stand up.”
She felt his hands on her. He was moving her body, not gently, but with great skill. In moments, he had her standing.
“Grab your ankles.”
“I…” She shook her head. “Can’t.”
He forced her into the position he demanded. “Hold your ankles.”
Through the haze of pain, she managed what he said.
“Three more.”
She couldn’t take three more smacks to her pussy, she couldn’t. Already, she’d never been in his much pain.
But master was clever.
He slapped her right buttock.
Then the left.
Then, the final was between her legs, scorching her cunt.
She screamed, the sound reverberating in her head. Blinding pain tore through her.
Devastating pain.
But she’d done it. She’d taken it.
Then… Then the reward. Master’s reward.
The tip of Ethan’s cock was at her heated entrance. He didn’t need lube. She was slick and ready.
She couldn’t believe her body’s reaction to the beating.
She was so hot, she could smell her own arousal, even above the scent of leather and rubber. “Fuck me.” The words were a mantra, swirling, repeating in her mind, even if he couldn’t hear them. “Fuck me, please. Fuck me, fuck me!”
He grabbed hold of her hips, dominating her, forcing her to stay still for his possession. She wanted it. Needed it.
Now.
He fucked her hard, his large cock splitting her as she held her ankles.
She wanted him to come, wanted his hot ejaculate pounding into her.
Again and again, he drove into her.
Then, whimpering, moaning, consumed, she came, the orgasm swallowing her whole.
With a groan, he slapped her thigh one last time and then came deep inside her, his cock pulsing and throbbing.
But Master wasn’t finished with her; her punishment wasn’t over.
“Stand up.”
S
he wondered how that was going to be possible.
Gripping her shoulders, his tension just shy of bruising her, he forced her towards the wall where the mirror hung.
Standing behind her, he grabbed her chin and held her steady. “Look,” he told her again. “See what I see.”
Her eyes were wide, with fear, with satisfaction, with unshed tears. Her cheeks bore stripes of scarlet, and drool escaped from behind the gag. Her hair was a wild wreck, and her body trembled.
“You’ve been punished, sub.”
She couldn’t respond, staring at her own dishevelled, submissive reflection.
“Beautiful,” he said.
Then, quickly, he pulled her into the centre of the room. “Hands behind your back, Alana.”
Barely able to string her thoughts together, she did as he told her.
She was aware of him picking up his cane. And even though he used it for balance, he was still able to totally overwhelm her. With soft cuffs, he secured her hands behind her back.
He forced her onto her knees. “Legs shoulder-width apart,” he instructed.
Subdued, she mumbled her gratitude for his lesson. “Thank you. Thank you.” There was no way he’d hear her, but she needed to say it.
“Glad you remembered your manners. Thought you might need another lesson.”
Without another word, he left the room, leaving her there, alone and bound, their co-mingled juices drying on the inside of her thighs, her buttocks stinging and bright red, overwhelmed, subdued.
* * * *
To make her humiliation complete, a quarter of an hour later, he sent Celia into the room.
Alana closed her eyes.
She’d had time to think, and she realised Master was intentionally increasing the stakes with each passing hour. He’d started small, by having her kneel in the car, and then by fucking her with the glass dildo.
Then, once they’d arrived at his ancestral home, he’d beat her, spanked her, and clamped her. And he’d done things to her in front of Thomas. And now, he’d left her vulnerable in front of Celia.
Alana shuddered, remembering his earlier promise, or, more like it, threat, that would lead to the culmination of all her training. She wondered if she’d survive it.
“Lucky girl,” Celia said, “for Master to have used you so.”
Lucky?
She might have protested, if she weren’t gagged. Instead, she shook her head.
“Oh, yes,” Celia said. “Lots of women would like to be in your place. Some men, too. They’d be as badly behaved as you are to get treated like that.”
Alana realised Celia was right. With her attitude, with her behaviour, she had asked for every bit of the experience.
She could have accepted the gag without fuss. She could have asked him to talk her through it.
Instead, she’d protested, been disobedient, she’d deliberately goaded him.
“I’m to help you upstairs,” Celia said.
Since Alana’s legs wouldn’t work right, she accepted the other woman’s help in standing.
On many levels it bothered her that the younger woman was dressed, and dressed comfortably in jeans and a T-shirt. Alana had no doubt Master had intentionally planned that, as well. He did nothing without great thought. Every action was carefully calculated to take her to a deeper level of submission.
Celia guided Alana towards the stairs.
Ethan stood there, at the bottom, one strong hand gripping the banister.
He looked so compelling, so strong, his black T-shirt hugging his honed body. Jeans conformed to his muscular thighs. A lock of hair fell across his forehead. Everything about him shouted power.
She dropped her gaze, then her head. She was gagged, drooling, humbled. He walked off as if he hadn’t even noticed her.
She’d take a beating any day over being ignored.
With a hand on Alana’s upper arm, Celia guided Alana upstairs, then continued holding her all the way across the bedroom. Because she was still bound, Alana was somewhat helpless as Celia tipped her forward onto the bed. Wildly, desperately, she wondered if there’d be no end to her humiliation?
“Spread your legs,” Celia told her.
What?
“You’ll want to be obedient,” the woman warned.
Celia was probably right.
She was clearly acting under Master’s orders, meaning the woman was her dominator in Master’s absence.
Of all the things he’d demanded from her so far, this was likely the hardest.
Even in the locker room of her health club, she was modest.
But, honestly, what choice did she really have? And to tell the truth, there was a tiny frisson of excitement wrapped up in a bundle of nerves. She had been curious… And this woman, with her long legs, shapely body, and stylish dark hair was more than attractive.
“Spread your legs,” Celia said again. This time, the words brooked no refusal.
Wiggling as she tried to follow orders, hyper-aware of exposing herself, Alana spread her legs apart.
Without an explanation, Celia left her there.
The woman returned moments later and pressed a wet, warm cloth against Alana’s pussy, cleaning her up. She sighed behind the gag. She was so sore from Ethan’s spanks, open handed on her most tender area, and the warm flannel was deliciously soothing.
Celia patted Alana’s cunt dry.
“I’ve got some arnica to help prevent bruising,” Celia said. “I’ll just rub some on your bum and thighs for you, shall I?”
Alana nodded, shyness receding as she surrendered. Ethan had been right about that, as well. When she stopped fighting, when she mastered herself, it was possible to enjoy the experiences and get more out of them.
Celia warmed the cream in her palm, then worked it into her tender flesh.
She’d never imagined that anything could feel as good. It wasn’t just the warm flannel or the gentle pats with a dry towel, and it wasn’t just the cream being rubbed into sore muscles to prevent bruising…it was the tender touch of another woman that she was enjoying. Celia was gentle as she stroked and soothed, and it felt so much different from a man touching her.
And when Celia’s long, soft caresses took her fingertips higher, towards Alana’s clitoris, she moaned, and she arched her back, gently asking.
Celia caressed Alana’s clit. Alana pressed her face deeper into the duvet cover. She shouldn’t want this. She shouldn’t be silently begging the other woman to finger her and bring her to orgasm, but she was.
She rose onto tiptoe, trying to give Celia greater access.
“Naughty little cunt,” Celia said.
Desperately, Alana shook her head.
“Oh, yes,” Celia said. “Admit it.”
She shook her head again.
Celia pulled her hands away.
Alana thrust her hips backwards.
Celia laughed. “Admit it or I won’t touch you again.”
Tears welled in Alana’s eyes. She couldn’t admit to something so scandalous. She couldn’t admit to the other woman, or to herself, that she was so hungry for a female’s touch.
“Right then, let’s get you ready for Master Thomas.”
Master Thomas?
Celia knelt on the floor between Alana’s legs and tongued her cunt.
Alana, relieved, thrilled, sighed. Hungrily, she widened her legs, giving Celia all the access to her private parts that she could possibly need.
After the woman’s touch, after Master’s beatings, she was completely on the knife-edge of an orgasm. The feel of her tongue on her clit… She was going to come…
Then…
Then…
Celia stopped. With a soft laugh, she said, “You’ll have to admit you want me to fuck you,” Celia said, “With my hands, with my tongue. You’ll have to be honest with yourself and with me before I’ll let you come.”
She cried out behind the gag. “Please!”
“What have we here?”
At the so
und of Thomas’ voice, Alana froze.
“Did you have Master’s permission to eat her out, Celia? And, Alana, did you have Master’s permission to come for anyone other than him?”
She was horrified.
“Stand up,” he commanded Celia. “And leave us. Master will deal with you directly.”
“I hope so,” Celia said. But instead of complying completely, she tongued Alana one last time.
“Celia.”
“I’m going,” she said.
“As for you, Alana,” Thomas said, “I’ll see to you now.”
Chapter Eleven
She was braced, he could see that, ready for his beating.
And he did enjoy being a torment.
But what they had in store for her later, was much more diabolical than a simple spanking now.
As for now… Keeping her uncertain was as effective as a beating.
He unbuckled the gag. “Open your mouth,” he said, reaching beneath her to remove the gag.
Easier said than done, he knew, after you’d had it in your mouth for so long.
She coughed as she tried to swallow, and he knew spit would be everywhere. Without giving her too much time to think, he dropped the ball gag on the nightstand and
pulled her up by her shoulders and forced her onto her knees facing away from the bed, towards him.
He grabbed a fresh towel from the pile Celia had thoughtfully provided and wiped Alana’s mouth.
“Thank you,” she said hurriedly, after he’d let silence drag for a few moments.
“You do like to skate on thin ice,” he told her.
Ethan had done well with this one. She was a constant challenge. And that made it much more fun than a woman who happily acquiesced to everything. Julianna, Ethan’s last submissive, had been a little frightening that way. He wasn’t sure they would have ever found her limits. He’d been more than happy when Ethan sent her packing. He just wished it hadn’t been so long between subs to train. Ethan really was meant to do that, even if he no longer wanted to admit it to himself.
“Ethan is waiting for you,” he said.
“Thomas?”
He raised his brows.
“I, er, need to use the toilet.”
“I’ll wait.”
Colour seared her cheeks.
“I’m still handcuffed,” she pointed out.
“I’ll uncuff you when you’ve finished.”
Signed, Sealed & Delivered Page 10