by Poppy Flynn
Chapter 4
Connor took Laurel's hand as she drew alongside him, helping her to position herself across his muscled thighs. She could feel their tensile strength beneath her body. Lying across this man's lap was like nothing she had ever experienced before. It was akin to lying over leather bound concrete. There was precious little give in the hard muscles and she could all but feel the power leashed within.
Connor hooked one big hand over the far side of her waist to keep her in place. The heat of his palm felt like a brand against her skin and just that simple touch sent goose bumps prickling.
His other hand rubbed lazily up and down her thighs, across the swell of her butt cheeks, and tickled behind her knees. He rubbed harder, priming her for his more intense attentions and peppered her ass with a few preparatory taps to bring the blood to the surface and protect her against bruising.
Laurel felt the heat of his ministrations spread across her butt and pool into her abdomen. She squirmed on his knee, trying to ease the delicious ache that had reignited in her clit, but Connor held her rigid and captured her legs between his own to limit her movement.
Just when she expected things to start getting serious, Connor lifted her slightly and wedged his hand between them. Finding one of the diabolical pearls that was doing its best to unhinge her sanity as it pressed and massaged various parts of her mound, Connor placed it strategically against her swollen clitoris and rotated it deliberately slowly, ratcheting up her desire with each skilful stroke. She could feel the sensitive little nub stiffen even more, and just when Laurel thought she might explode, he stopped dead and moved the pearl to one side, so close to where she wanted its touch, but oh so very far from culmination.
"Connor, oh God! Please!" she implored, attempting to shimmy into a more fulfilling position. She got a sharp slap to her inner thigh for her efforts, but it did little to slake the burning heat, which was enveloping her.
"As much as your begging turns me on, things will proceed at my pace and mine only," Connor murmured darkly, leaving her in no doubt over who was in charge.
Laurel growled in frustration and was aware of the juices, which seeped from her needy pussy. Well, if she stained his trousers, that was his own damn fault, she thought snarkily.
A moment later, as if following her own silent thoughts, Connor swiped a thick finger along the seam of her nether lips and, gathering her cream, trailed his hand up her shadowy cleft. Laurel's buttocks clenched in anticipation, and Connor slapped his other hand against her hip, where it held her, causing her to soften slightly. Connor took advantage of the subtle relaxation and smeared her puckered rosette, exerting a gentle but unyielding pressure that had her crying out as pure need skittered through her body like the flash of an electric current.
Laurel's breath rushed out audibly as his big finger finally breached the tight ring of muscle and massaged in and out with an astounding gentleness for such a giant of a guy. Then he withdrew again, leaving her shaking and bereft, while he gathered more of her dew and fiddled at something she couldn't see or make sense of.
Then she felt it. The largest of the pearls that decorated the tail of her erotic underwear, he had lubed with her own juices and now it pressed inexorably against her in place of his fingers. Laurel sucked in a sharp breath as she first arched her spine in surprise, then sagged in supplication which made him chuckle knowingly.
Laurel swallowed as the large bead finally settled within her body and tried to even out her breathing as Connor lined up the rest of the tail along the crease of her ass.
She had just drawn a deliberately slow, stabilising inhalation through her nose when the first smack landed, taking her unaware. The breath tumbled right back out on a yelp and a groan as his paddle sized hand landed right in the middle of her sensitive sit spot. The man certainly didn't pull his blows—or his aim!
Connor let out a darkly perceptive laugh and caressed the burning heat then took aim again in earnest.
At least this time, Laurel was ready, not squeaking like a total noob.
She pulled all the experience she could muster around her like an invisible cloak of poise. Laurel had wanted so much to impress this skilled, self-assured Dom with her own grace and composure, instead of leaving her usual first impression of the ditzy blonde stereotype, racing along, hell for leather, without thought or care.
She settled into the rhythm and tried to clear her mind and just sink into the sensations. A hand spanking was one of her favourite things and Connor was busy proving exactly what an expert he was. Each fall was precise and intuitive and proved to remind Laurel of the large bead that was nestled inside her ass, ratcheting up her lust with each and every blow, until she thought she might come from the spanking alone. She didn't think she'd ever been quite so turned on in her entire life and that was saying something for a woman who had been embracing and nurturing her sexual nature since before she had even lost her virginity. She squirmed and wriggled on Connor's knee, trying to rub her needy pussy against his leg or the beads that were so tantalisingly close, while her frustration grew to an excruciating magnitude that had her whimpering and gasping uncontrollably. So much for poise!
Connor gloried in the reactions he was forcing from this feisty little brat. He'd bet his not insignificant annual salary that she didn't normally give herself over quite so thoroughly to any Dom she played with. She was unquestionably responsive and obviously comfortable with her submission, but he had an inkling that she usually achieved it on her own terms rather than somebody else's. There was no way Connor would ever let her get away with that. He was the one in charge here, and he was going to make sure she knew it.
Laurel was squirming around trying to get herself off. She might not know it yet, but that wasn't going to happen until Connor was good and ready. And, even then, he planned to make her beg for it, just so she knew exactly who was in control. For that, he had to keep his head. He didn't know her well enough yet to recognise her tells, to understand exactly how far he could push her before she tumbled over the edge before he was ready. He had to be alert to her every subtle nuance, which was going to be quite a feat with the way she was writhing against his rock-hard cock. If she kept this up, it might well be him going over the edge before he was ready. And wouldn't that be embarrassing. Yeah, so not the way to show her who was the boss!
Needing her off his knee, Connor brought the spanking to an end before he really wanted to. Certainly, before Laurel had reached the limit of her tolerance, and the knowledge that she was still getting the better of him had him inclined to punish her further.
Tipping her up with a decided lack of sensitivity, Connor manhandled Laurel until she was sprawled across the steel table, her breasts mashed against the cold, hard surface.
He grabbed a pair of cuffs from a trolley, where assorted items were already set out to assist members, and shackled her wrists to the far edge, adjusting the height so she was forced to stand on tiptoes. Connor pushed her legs further apart, wanting her on display, wanting access. He wished he could reach her breasts, too, but since he hadn't planned this scene in advance, things weren't set up for what he wanted right now. Connor frowned in irritation at the thought then realised that he was rushing, almost panting, like a dog, in his eagerness. He needed to slow down and regain his composure. It wouldn't hurt Laurel to learn some patience, herself, and be forced to wait for him to prepare. In fact, it would be character building for her.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Connor stopped and gathered himself. When he was convinced that he was in control again, he walked casually across to the toy trolley and dug around in one of the drawers until he found a quick release clasp, which he proceeded to attach to a convenient rope pulley that was bolted into the ceiling. Then he went about reattaching the cuffs so that they could be secured to the table but also released with the clasp onto the rope, so he could pull her upright. For now, though, Connor said nothing of his plans, content to let her guess. He could see her growing impatience and h
ow she bit her lip in an effort to keep quiet. He wondered how long it would be until she snapped, and the thought made him grin, an expression that he knew she hadn't missed.
Laurel bit out an exasperated breath. What the heck was he doing? She was nicely warmed up and eager to get on with it. She barely curbed the urge to drum her fingers.
Connor slowed his movements and raised an eyebrow. "Problem?" he asked coolly.
"No," Laurel snapped. "Just get on with it!"
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew she should have tried harder to hold her tongue and pressed her lips against her teeth.
Connor stilled completely and simply looked at her. The look in his eye had turned from amused to chilled in a nano second, and although he didn't scold her for an attitude unbecoming to a good submissive, Laurel had to lower her head, unable to meet his reproachful gaze. Without so much as a word, the man managed to put her in her place.
For a moment, Laurel was dumbfounded, then the surprise turned to irritation and her eyebrows beetled together in consternation. Just as she opened her mouth to make a retort, Connor beat her to it.
"Don't even think about it," he warned, tapping her twice on the nose.
Words spilled out of Laurel's mouth regardless. "How would you even know what I was going to say?" she demanded.
"Oh, I'm pretty sure I've got your number, pet," Connor assured her.
"I doubt it, since I haven't given it to you," Laurel retorted sarcastically.
This time, both his eyebrows rose.
"You know a punishment spanking isn't nearly as enjoyable as an erotic one," he said with deceptive mildness.
Laurel's eyes widened in disbelief. "You wouldn't!"
"Push me too hard, and you may well find out," Connor retorted. As it was, he fully intended to take her to the limits of her comfort. The girl needed a keeper, a full-time Dom to make sure she stayed in line. The thought shocked him for a moment before he shook it off. No, he wasn't considering himself for the job. It was purely a figure of speech…or thought, in this case. It didn't mean anything.
Connor had strong, very personal, and emotionally devastating reasons for never having long-term relationships, and it was unlikely that anything, or anyone, would ever change his views on that point.
If he ever decided to take a wife, she would be strictly arm candy, a kind of trophy wife—beautiful, elegant, suitably well-bred, and an asset to his personal and business standing. Agreeable to living a mutually beneficial, but discretely detached, life and willing to produce the obligatory heir, preferably by IVF. He had no interest in pursuing either a physical or emotional relationship with his eventual spouse. He required only a marriage of convenience, which would be pre-nupped to the hilt.
Connor stalked behind Laurel's back, rubbed his hands across his eyes, then gave his head a physical shake to dislodge the unwelcome direction of his errant thoughts.
Scowling, he forced his mind back to the here and now and selected the cane that he was planning to use on Fluff's lush backside. Connor deliberately started thinking of her in terms of her club name. That, right there, embodied everything he didn't want in a woman and would help him keep his distance.
He tested the weight of his chosen implement in the air and noticed Fluff stiffen in response.
He didn't give her time to argue. 'Just getting on with it', like she'd demanded, Connor brought the flexible rod down across both buttocks, barely allowing the shocked scream that tore from her lips to die before he delivered a second and then a third in quick succession. He spaced the blows carefully despite his haste, careful not to overlap or to break the skin.
"Connor!" Laurel yelped, tugging at her bindings and dancing on her tiptoes.
"Keep still!" he ordered, instead of slowing. He had delivered five sharp strikes.
Laurel wailed and kicked her feet. "Connor, no. Stop!"
Connor paused momentarily. "Safeword if you need to, Fluff, and we can call it a night," he declared, making no move to touch her or soothe the temporary welts that were blooming on her pale skin.
Laurel swallowed convulsively. She knew without a doubt that if she used her safeword, everything would be over and that would be the end of it. Probably for good.
His harsh words made her feel uncomfortable. In truth, he really hadn't hurt her. Certainly, he hadn't given her more pain than she was capable of handling. She was just miffed that he had gotten the upper hand. Maybe it had been a mistake to agree to scene without negotiating the details in advance.
Laurel had never realised how invested she had become in manipulating the outcome of a scene to her own advantage until now. And now that Connor had effectively called her on it, she was ashamed to realise just how much she always topped from the bottom. She was embarrassed by the mild disdain that she could feel him assessing her with. As if she had touted herself as an experienced submissive, but he was finding her sadly lacking. Perversely, the idea had her all the more eager to please him and prove him wrong in his judgment.
Taking a deep breath, Laurel settled herself. "I'm sorry, Sir," she apologised carefully. "You just took me by surprise and I wasn't ready."
"So, let me be clear, Fluff." Connor pinned her with a look. "You are happy to continue and do not wish to safeword and end our scene?"
Laurel ducked her head and stared at the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the room and just nodded meekly. Of course, he wasn't going to let it go at that.
"I need you to verbalise, Fluff, so there's no mistake."
"No, Sir. I do not wish to end our scene."
"Then we'll continue where we left off," he warned.
"Yes, Sir," she acknowledged, an unexpected thrill shivering through her at the firm authority in his deep tone. Maybe this is what she had craved all along, someone to take her in hand and not take any of her nonsense, a Dom worthy of her respect, because he demanded it and accepted nothing less. But one who still knows how to temper autocracy with soothing understanding, so he doesn't just come off as an arrogant asshole, Laurel thought as Connor relented fractionally and drew a comforting hand down her back from her neck to the base of her spine.
"Good girl," he praised, and for some reason beyond her comprehension, those two little words were all she needed to put her whole world to rights.
Once she was settled, Connor gave her five more strikes. They weren't even as hard as the first five, but for some reason, they had tears pricking at the back of her eyes. It wasn't because of the pain, Laurel realised as they began to fall. They were tears of gratitude and appreciation that he had held firm and not given in to her. It meant more, somehow, that he had stayed true to his word and he had expected no less from her. The fact that he had stood his ground did something for her, and Laurel felt her desire and admiration for him growing exponentially. This man really was a true Dom, and she knew, if she wasn't cautious, he could ruin her for anyone else.
Connor zeroed all of his concentration onto Laurel, ensuring none of his strokes had broken the skin or were leaving welts that would bruise, keeping track of her emotional wellbeing. He knew she was crying, even though no sound passed her lips and there was none of the tell-tale shaking of her shoulders that would indicate serious sobbing. Her demeanour was calm, regardless of the tears, and her body was slack and comfortable, stretched over the table. She seemed more relaxed than she had since they arrived and there was no physical sign of discomfort. That indicated that her tears were emotional but not distraught. Something else was going on inside her head, and Connor had a good idea it had something to do with the fact that he hadn't allowed her to have her own way. It remained to be seen how she would react to that in the longer term. She might have capitulated for now, but whether she would allow that to continue in the future was questionable. She truly was a brat.
It wasn't until after Connor smoothed his large hands across Laurel's reddened buttocks and unclasped the cuffs in preparation to pull her upright that he caught himself in his tra
in of thought. 'In the future?' He paused momentarily. He rarely, if ever, thought of any of the subs he played with in anything other than terms of 'right now'. He might play with them again, but there was certainly no assumption or planning involved. So why was he thinking in terms of the future scenes with Fluff, when they hadn't even finished this one yet?
Connor shook his head. He was definitely getting ahead of himself and that included the second guessing that was taking place right now. There was no place for that kind of thinking during a scene, when he needed to have his wits about him.
Shoving his thoughts aside, he stretched the cuffs to the highest link on the chain to keep Laurel on the tips of her toes and reached into the cupboard to draw out a crop. At the last minute, he grabbed a blindfold as well. He decided it was best, by far, to keep this little filly in the dark.
Laurel caught her breath as Connor yanked her arms above her head then snugged the blindfold around her eyes. They weren't on her limits, but she didn't usually scene with one. She was just far too invested in knowing exactly what was going on around her. How did he know that? Laurel shivered at the thought and everything that it implied. She felt off balance, not only had she agreed to a scene without any parameters, but now she was blind and couldn't even see what was going on.
It seemed like forever before Connor even moved, and the ticking seconds of nothing had her fidgeting within her bindings and itching to throw out a snarky comment.
"Open that mouth again, and I'll find a ball gag to match the blindfold," Connor said nonchalantly. How did he know?
A bare second later, her brain had scarcely acknowledged the whoosh that split the air before 'Thwack'. The tongue of the crop came down on the tip of her tender nipple, causing her to squawk inelegantly. She hadn't even managed to suck in her breath before he matched up the other side.
