by Lee, Mandy
I glance at Clive. He doesn’t seem to be the slightest bit put out by Lucy’s statement.
‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’
She shakes her head. ‘Some of us know how the pill works. We’re getting married though,’ she adds, throwing out the news as if it’s of no importance whatsoever.
‘What?’ I gasp. ‘Getting married?’
‘Yeah.’ A wicked grin creeps across her face.
‘I’m sorry,’ Clive intervenes. ‘We didn’t want to rain on Dan’s parade, but seeing as Lucy’s determined to let the cat out of the bag …’
‘We’re getting married,’ she squeaks, jumping around like a lunatic. ‘Clive asked me last night. It was so romantic.’
‘Congratulations.’ Getting up, Dan pats Clive on the back.
‘Best man?’ Clive asks.
‘Of course, and I’ll try not to give a shit speech.’
‘Dan,’ I admonish him. ‘No swearing in front of your son.’
‘But he’s just a baby.’
‘He’s a sponge, that’s what he is, soaking it all up. I don’t want a foul-mouthed toddler.’
‘Sorry, boss.’
Carla appears at the doorway.
‘It’s time. They’re all waiting for you downstairs.’
Suddenly serious, Dan looks at his friend.
‘I didn’t want this, Clive. I just wanted to leave quietly.’
‘And your staff want to say goodbye.’
‘I have no idea why.’
‘Well, I do.’ Clive grins at Jack. ‘Daddy’s been a bad-tempered shi … person most of the time.’ He goes on in a sing-song voice. ‘But he’s worked hard for his employees, yes, he has. And anyone who wanted a voluntary redundancy had one, haven’t they? And he’s managed to sell the company in one piece.’
‘Well,’ Dan rubs his forehead. ‘There’s no telling how long it’s going to stay that way.’
‘It’s out of your hands,’ Clive tells him. ‘You’ve done your bit and they appreciate it. So, go and say goodbye to them … with your adoring wife and son at your side.’
‘And a wet patch on your trousers,’ I add for good measure.
With Jack returned to the pushchair, Dan says farewell to the fifteenth floor, and we all ride the lift in silence. As the numbers above the door count down, I check on my husband. Hands clenched, staring straight ahead at the door, he’s deep in thought. I reach out and touch his arm, letting him know I’m here for him. He has just enough time to reward me with a thankful glimmer of the eyes before the door slides open onto the atrium.
It’s transformed now, overflowing with smart, professional types. And they’re all silent, staring at us, expectantly. With the mask back in place, Dan’s first out of the lift, barely taking three steps before the applause begins, the sound of it echoing through the atrium. I watch as he weaves a path through the crowd, stopping to shake a hand or indulge in a quick chat, gradually relaxing.
Norman appears in front of me.
‘Maya.’ I’m given a big, teddy bear hug. ‘And the little one.’ He leans down and brushes a finger across Jack’s chubby cheeks. ‘It’s a big day.’
‘Another one.’
‘Well,’ he laughs, ‘I never saw this coming when you walked into my office.’
‘Neither did I.’
‘No more big kahuna, eh?’ He winks.
‘Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.’
‘When will you be back down at the house?’
‘Tomorrow evening, probably.’
‘I’ll tell Betty. She wants to do a nice casserole.’
And with that, Norman’s gone.
Before I’m swamped by baby-admirers, I scan the atrium, spotting Dan over to the left. He’s laughing with a group of people I’ve never seen before. Yet again, I find myself thinking of that first ever visit to Fosters. Completely out of my depth, I had no idea I was already tangled in Dan’s web. I saw him as nothing more than an arrogant, power-hungry, domineering piece of work, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. I didn’t know him at all. But now I’ve peeled back his layers, I’ve got to the heart of Daniel Foster, and I know exactly who he is: a loving, faithful, caring and protective man.
And my heart swells with pride to think that he’s all mine.
He brushes my hair, gently picking his way through the tangles. We’re sitting on the bed, enjoying our own little bubble of peace and quiet. With Dan behind me, leaning against the headboard, a towel wrapped around his midriff, I’m positioned between his legs, naked, drifting further into a fug of post-bath calm.
‘Do you need a sleep?’ he asks at last.
‘And waste precious time with you? I can sleep later.’ I gaze at the empty cot. ‘It feels weird without Jack here.’
‘He’ll be back tomorrow. And then we’ll spend plenty of time with him … together.’
‘So, what’s in store for tonight?’
‘Dinner … later.’
‘And before that?’
‘It’s a secret.’
I turn to face him, waiting for more.
‘A good secret,’ he adds, holding the brush in mid-air.
‘Where are we going?’
‘Not far.’
‘Where?’
‘Across the hallway.’
‘The room of kink?’
‘Either that or the guest bedroom.’ He motions for me to turn again, and goes back to brushing my hair. ‘I’ve missed it.’
Since Jack was born, we haven’t used it once, and I’ve missed it too, evidently more than I realised, because out of nowhere, excitement’s bouncing around my stomach like a hyperactive toddler.
‘What are we using?’ I ask, unable to contain it any longer.
‘Well, that all depends.’ He throws the brush onto the bed. ‘There. You’re done.’ A warm hand comes to my shoulder. ‘Ready?’
‘Ready.’
He urges me up from the bed and heads straight for the wardrobe. Opening a drawer, he picks out a lacy pair of knickers and then, taking my hand, leads me from the bedroom, across the hallway, and into the room of kink. Letting go of my hand, he saunters over to the spanking bench.
‘That?’ I ask.
‘Maybe.’
‘But, I thought …’
‘It was out of the question?’
I watch him closely, registering the slight changes that are beginning to appear. Lips straighten, eyes darken, shoulders arch, as if he’s suddenly poised for action. I’ve seen it all before, and just like before, it sparks off a glow of anticipation deep in my groin. That’s the dominant persona emerging from the shadows, and I’ve missed him too.
Slowly, he moves toward me. When he’s close enough, he traces a fingertip across my stomach. I jolt at the contact, close my eyes and soak up the sensations.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask.
‘Exactly what I want to do. As always.’
He begins to circle me, taking his time, surveying me, drawing his fingers across my flesh. At last, he comes to a halt behind me and I’m pulled in close, one hand on my waist, the other clamped around my right arm. He skims his mouth across my shoulder.
‘You liked the dominant.’
It’s not a question.
‘It turned me on. You know it did.’
‘Me too.’
I’m swamped in confusion. I have no idea where this is going.
‘But … you didn’t want to be that person any more.’
‘I didn’t want to hide,’ he whispers against my ear. ‘And now there’s nothing left to hide from.’ He turns me to face him. ‘I can bring out the dominant for you now, Maya, because it’s only a game. And when we’re finished, I can put him away again.’ He takes hold of my chin. ‘Care to play?’
‘Bloody hell, yes.’ I’m already struggling to control my breath. ‘So, it’s the bench?’
‘There was no way I was ever going to spank you while you were pregnant … or while pain was still an issue. It’s not fo
r me, not any more. Hasn’t been for a long time. How about you?’
I open my mouth, but I’m not exactly sure where to start. He helps me out.
‘I need to know. The loner who didn’t fit in, the child with no self-confidence, the girl who was tormented by her sister.’ Letting go of my chin, he brings a palm to my cheek. ‘The woman who ran away and blocked things out, who felt she deserved punishment. Did you leave her back there on the beach?’
‘Yes,’ I whisper, holding his gaze. ‘Haven’t seen her for a while.’
He nods, blinks lazily. ‘So, tell me. What are you?’
I falter.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘What are you?’ he asks again. ‘I need you to tell me.’
‘I don’t know what you want me to say …’
‘The truth. What are you?’
‘Well …’ I stammer. ‘I’m a woman.’
‘Definitely not a girl,’ he smiles.
‘Definitely not,’ I smile back. ‘I’m a wife and a mother and an artist.’
‘Good. Now, try some adjectives.’ He waits for a moment, his eyes dancing in the light. ‘You do know what adjectives are, don’t you?’
‘Of course I do. Don’t be a condescending twat. I just can’t think of any.’
‘Then allow me to help.’ He takes a moment to study me. ‘Beautiful.’
He pauses again, waiting for me to repeat the word.
‘I don’t know about that.’ I glance down. ‘Stretch marks.’
‘They’re a part of you now, just like my scars are a part of me. Life’s made its mark on both of us. But you’re still beautiful, and I want to hear you say it.’
‘Okay then,’ I mutter, more than slightly embarrassed. ‘Beautiful.’
‘Now give me some more.’
I blow out a breath. I want a session on that spanking bench, no doubt about it, and if I’m to get what I want, I need to do this right.
‘Sexy?’ I ask.
‘Believe it,’ he orders sternly.
‘Okay, sexy. I’m sexy.’
‘Well done. More.’
Shit. More?
‘Brilliant,’ I venture, ‘talented … funny.’
His smile broadens with every word, egging me on.
‘Intelligent … feisty … spunky.’
‘Oh, I like that one.’
‘So do I.’ I tut. ‘Be quiet. I’m on a roll. Talented. No, I’ve said that one. Strong. Caring. Faithful. Lucky. Fucking lucky.’
‘Too right you are.’
‘Happy now?’
I bloody hope so, seeing as I’ve just run out of adjectives.
‘Yes, thank you.’ He gives me a satisfied smile. ‘So, if I were to spank you tonight, what would you get out of it?’
‘Is this a test?’
‘Of course. And you’d better pass.’
Another deep breath.
‘It’s not like that night.’ I nod at the cross and he understands. ‘Not even remotely like that. You once told me I’d enjoy a proper spanking, and I did. It was something else. A pure rush. It hurt for a bit, but then it didn’t.’ I hesitate for a moment, wondering how on Earth I’m going to explain this, and then I hear myself talking, confident, calm, determined. ‘I liked the shock of it, the way it made me feel awake and alive. And when the endorphins kicked in, I felt supercharged. Everything was intense.’ I raise my chin, proud now. ‘If you were to spank me tonight, that’s what I’d get out of it. Absolute pleasure … and a few fucking brilliant orgasms.’
He nods.
‘Perfect. Ten out of ten.’ He holds up the knickers. ‘You’ll be needing these then.’
Buzzing with anticipation, I take them from him, slip them on and wait for the next command.
He taps the padded rest, his eyes glistening with promise.
Immediately, I climb onto the bench, moving my arms and legs into position. As soon as I’m comfortable, a warm palm touches my left shoulder, slowly smoothing its way down my back, across my buttocks, leaving ruffles of pleasure wherever it goes. He repeats the process, two, three times before he removes the hand. I’m desperate for more, and not waiting for long. Almost immediately, he places both hands on my shoulders and begins to massage me with patient, gentle movements. I’m in a daze, completely relaxed, when he finally comes to a stop.
‘How do you feel?’
‘Great,’ I murmur. ‘Bloody wonderful.’
‘Excellent. Let’s get you strapped in.’
As ever, he takes his time fastening the bindings, concentrating fully on the job in hand. He wraps the leather cuffs around my wrists, and then my ankles, checking that I’m comfortable. When he’s satisfied, he moves my hair out of my face.
‘Ready?’ he asks.
‘Ready,’ I confirm.
He plants a tender kiss on my forehead.
‘It fucking turns me on to see you like this, Maya.’
‘And I love it.’
I’m stating the ruddy obvious here. My breathing’s already shallow, and my vagina’s twitching for England. Suddenly, a finger probes me. I moan.
‘You’re wet.’
‘I can’t help it.’
He removes the finger and brings it to my mouth, running it firmly across my lips.
‘Taste yourself.’
I do as I’m told, licking away the wetness.
‘I’d love to gag you,’ he murmurs. ‘Then I’d have you completely.’
The words come quickly. I’m feeling reckless.
‘Do it.’
‘Next time, maybe. More practice first.’
He walks away. I hear the sound of the wardrobe door sliding open. He’s fetching the flogger. It’s not long before he returns, placing one hand on the small of my back, holding me firmly, the other on my right buttock.
‘Warm up time,’ he reminds me. ‘Don’t fight it. Concentrate on your breathing. Use your safeword if you change your mind.’
‘Like that’s going to happen.’
Immediately, he slaps me hard on the left buttock. I jolt in surprise.
‘Behave yourself. No back-chat.’
He slaps my right buttock, a little less harshly this time, and then, without a break, he continues, alternating between the two, spanking lightly. Within seconds, my flesh comes alive with a stinging sensation. A minute or so later, he stops.
‘Harder now,’ he tells me.
The hand on my back presses down, and he begins to slap again, left and right, left and right, increasing the speed and intensity.
‘No,’ I gasp, although I have no idea why. I’m already loving it.
‘You know what to say.’
‘God.’
‘And you’ll never say it.’ More slaps rain down. ‘I wonder why that is.’
I squeeze my eyes shut, my flesh burning now, fists clenched. Growing steadily weaker under his control, I bite back the urge to yell for coffee. I know exactly where this is going, and there’s no way I’m about to put a halt to it.
He pauses, pulls down my knickers and smooths a hand over my skin.
‘Cooking nicely.’ He tugs the knickers back into place. ‘You’re nearly there.’
A second long, hard session begins, fast at first, then slowing in pace. Eyes still closed, I make an effort to unclench my fists, silently willing my muscles to relax, focussing on my breathing, consciously keeping it under control as each glorious, stabbing dart of heat sears right to my core.
He comes to a halt. Slipping a finger into the top of my knickers, he rips them away, and skims a palm across my bare buttocks.
‘Time for the endorphins.’
‘Mmm, endorphins,’ I murmur. ‘Yummy.’
I hear him chuckle, feel the leather strands of the flogger against my skin. Over and over again, he draws them across my buttocks, up and down my back, covering every inch of flesh. Before long, I’m tingling, shimmering, glowing.
I hear a soft thud. The flogger’s been dropped to the floor.
; A finger comes to my clitoris, softly massaging me, patiently bringing me to the edge. I’m almost there when he launches into the next round of spanking: short upward slaps, maybe ten on each side. It doesn’t last long. I’m still reeling at the shock when the finger returns to my clit, urging me back towards an orgasm. And then he slaps again, repeating the process, taking the air clean out of my lungs and forcing me to focus back on my breathing. It’s not easy, but I’m finally rewarded. Pain begins to mutate, transforming into something different altogether, an all-consuming, delicious flood of pleasure that washes through me, body and mind. I’m on the verge of oblivion when he stops again, this time, pressing a finger against my clit, and sending waves of energy through my groin.
‘Oh, Jesus, let me come.’
‘All in good time.’
And now something new. He flicks the lengths of leather against my vagina and clit. Quick bites of pain skim across nerve endings, fizzling out into a sea of warmth.
‘Oh fuck.’
‘Like that?’
‘Yes.’
‘Want more?’
‘Yes, please.’
He gives me more. I have no idea how long he spends flicking the flogger against me, but by the time he’s finished, I’m close to bliss, or ecstasy … or complete madness.
He must have dropped the flogger again – this time I hear no thud – and a single, hard slap lands on my left buttock. I’m given time to soak up the sensation before the same happens to the right. And then he spanks my clitoris, this time with short sharp actions. Almost immediately, I come, every last muscle contracting and pulsating down below. I get no time to rest. A hand comes to the back of my neck, another to my right hip, and he’s inside me, thrusting hard. Before the first orgasm’s anywhere near finished, the pressure builds again, with a renewed intensity.
‘Shit,’ I scream.
The hand tightens on my neck, and he pounds harder, hitting the back of my vagina every single time, keeping to the same unforgiving rhythm. Muscles contract again, and before long I’m free-falling through a second orgasm. Finally, his grip becomes vice-like, the thrusts vicious, and I know he’s there. At last, he comes, filling me quickly, withdrawing and slapping again, alternating between buttocks, much harder than before.
And I smile to myself because I’m totally exhausted, elated, cast away in a world of pleasure. I’ve got everything I could ever want or need … and it really can’t get any better than this.