by Ashe Barker
By way of an answer I bury my nose in his chest again and resume my sobbing. It’s a subdued, calm outpouring now though, the final purging of any residual guilt and shame. My confusion and ambivalence about this lifestyle slide away too, to be replaced by a sense of belonging, or purpose, of sweet, solid certainty. Ewan’s palm is on my back, tracing circles between my shoulder blades. He says nothing as my weeping subsides into occasional gulps, then finally silence.
We lay still for a few minutes. My head’s whirling, I have even more questions now. But emotionally I feel alright, more alright than I can remember in a long time. My connection to Ewan is stronger than ever. I am content.
Chapter Ten
“Hungry?”
My stomach clenches and growls, leaving no room for doubt.
“Starving.” I struggle to sit up, still in Ewan’s bed. I wince as my weight settles on my abused bum. “Ow.” I roll to my side and reach down to lay my palm across my smarting buttock, amazed to feel the heat still radiating from my skin.
“Sore?”
“Mmm, but it’s okay.” I shift my weight, only now noticing the aroma of bacon wafting my way. “Did you bring food up?”
“I did. Here.” He passes me a plate. “Crispy bacon, granary roll, a smudge of brown sauce. Suit you?”
“Lovely.” I grab the sandwich and take a bite. I chew, swallow, then gnaw off another lump. Ewan is a master with a spanking crop, as I can now readily testify, but his skill with a bacon butty is equally impressive. I glance at him, his expression amused as he perches on the edge of the bed and contemplates my enthusiastic response to breakfast.
Except, this isn’t breakfast. It’s dark outside. Not morning. I frown at Ewan as I attempt to reassemble my thoughts from before I flaked out in his bed, exhausted.
“How long was I asleep?”
“A couple of hours. It’s almost ten now. You will be staying over, I assume.”
I nod and bite into my sandwich again. “If that’s alright with you. I mean, I don’t want to just assume…”
“Assume away, love. Maybe we should think about knocking through.”
“What? You want to join up our houses? How would that work?”
He shrugs. “Not sure. We’d have to get someone to draw up some plans. Or maybe we could just sell up both places and buy somewhere else. Together.”
My brain is doing cartwheels. This I didn’t bargain on. “You mean you want us to live together?” Unwelcome images of the casual setup he enjoyed with Caroline spring to mind.
He passes me a cup of tea to swill down the remaining couple of mouthfuls. “Maybe. I haven’t really thought it through. We more or less live together already. Except when I’m away, obviously.”
Obviously, and that’s a sobering thought. “How long before you need to go away again?”
“Week after next, but not for long. A few days probably. Then next month I need to go to South Korea for a couple of weeks at least.”
“I’ll miss you. I always miss you when you’re not here.”
“I’ll miss you too. Is there any chance you could come with me?”
I shake my head in genuine regret. “Not this time. I need to work on my business, get myself established. I want to make a go of Faith, and I’m at such an early stage…”
Ewan grins at me, all dimples and sexy mischief. “I knew you’d say that. I quite like the idea of making a go of Faith myself, starting here.”
Ah, this sounds promising. Or ominous. I drain my cup and pass the mug back to him. He places it on the bedside table with his own then turns to face me.
“You took your punishment well, for a newbie. Now that you’ve had a rest, you deserve a little fun. I want your first real taste of this lifestyle to be rewarding as well as educative.”
I gaze into his dimpled, seductive smile, my pussy already starting to dampen despite my lingering soreness. Will this involve more spanking?
“Don’t look so nervous. I have something a bit different in mind for you this evening. It’ll be intense, and you may not like it at first.”
I can come up with no ready answer. I simply stare at him. Already though, I know that whatever he suggests I will be doing. I can’t say no, I have no wish to refuse him. Anything.
“I intend to make use of your tight little arse. I’ve been admiring it for a while, and now… I think it’s time to explore a little. Push back a few more barriers.”
Again, I offer no comment, though my mind is racing at the wicked prospect. What does he mean? Exactly?
“A butt plug, I think. Just a small one to start with.” He rolls off the bed and strolls across to a chest of drawers. He crouches to open the bottom one, the deepest, I note. “I have a lot of interesting toys in here. Feel free to have a rummage some time.” He tosses the words over his shoulder at me as he makes his selection. “We’ll be using all this kit at some stage, but you might have some ideas of your own. I’m not promising to carry out your requests, but you can always ask. You never know.”
He returns to the bed. I draw the duvet up in front of me, the gesture defensive if rather belated. It seems to amuse Ewan.
“Ah, the coy virgin. I like that. Occasionally.”
“I am a virgin, at least…”
He regards me from the foot of the bed. “I see. I did wonder. Thank you for mentioning that. We’ll take this slow then. And use plenty of lube.”
“Will I be tied up again?”
“Would you prefer that?” His voice is lowered, the tone gentle.
“Yes, I think I might.” If he presses me on this, if he demands an explanation I might falter. But already I’m starting to recognise the illusion of powerlessness created by restraints, the sense that I am helpless, not in control, and the heady arousal this causes for me. I will be in his hands, quite literally. And that thought is sexy as hell.
“Drop the sheet then, and kneel on the bed.”
I do as he tells me. Ewan tosses the butt plug in front of me, along with a tube of lubricant. I notice the plug looks to be an unusual shape, though of course my frame of reference is limited. There is what I assume to be a finger grip at one end, but that appears to be set off centre. I wonder about the protocol of asking for further information, some explanation of how the items will be used. Or do I just wait and see, and trust Ewan to know what he’s doing?
Ewan goes back to his drawer and retrieves a length of black rope, maybe three feet in length. He returns to his position at the end of the bed, and with an imperious swirl of his upraised finger instructs me to turn around.
I obey again.
“Place your hands behind you, please, in the small of your back.”
I do it. Ewan wraps the rope around my wrists and fastens it with a secure knot. He slips his fingers under the rope, testing it.
“Tell me if you feel any discomfort, any tingling at all.”
“Yes, sir.” Apart from restraining my movements, the sensation of having my hands tied sends me instantly into a submissive mind set. The impact is emotional, intellectual, as well as physical. I’m content, relaxed, ready. I bow my head, awaiting further instruction.
Ewan squeezes my shoulder. “Good girl. Now I want you to lean forward, please. Turn your head and lay your cheek on the mattress, and lift your bottom up as high as you can for me. Just shuffle around until you find a comfortable position.”
Comfortable? With my arse in the air, my pussy on display, no doubt shamelessly plump and wet and glowing pink? He hasn’t laid a hand on me yet, not really, and already my cunt is spasming, my arousal starting to spiral out of my control. If I ever did have any hold on my responses. I’m starting to seriously doubt that. The moment Ewan sees the engorged state of my greedy clit, he’ll be left with no illusions about what a slut I am.
Bring it on.
“Could you spread your legs, please? I need your bum raised, and your legs wide open.”
With a silent moan of
pure, unfurling lust I do as I’m instructed. The sensation of cool air against my hot, slick folds heightens my sense of delicious exposure. Ewan does not move. He watches, examines, leisurely studies my upturned bottom and disgracefully moist pussy, now displayed for his perusal. He take his time as I shift and squirm on the bed, caught between churning desire and abject humiliation. Which was exactly his intention, I have no doubt.
Ewan knows his craft, and he is coming to know me too well.
“Would you like an orgasm first? From this angle you do look rather… eager.”
I groan again, but I know there is no point at all in false modesty. “Yes, please, sir. That would be most welcome.”
“Slut. Perhaps I should make you wait. Make you earn it.”
“I, yes, if you think…” Disappointment carries a bitter taste, but I know better than to beg. He will do whatever he decides to do to me, regardless of my wishes. I chew on my lower lip, waiting, with as much patience as I can muster, for Ewan’s next move.
My dom is in no hurry. He walks to the side of the bed, then sits beside me, facing towards my bum. His left arm loops around my waist as he leans in to admire my wide open cleft. At least, I hope he is admiring.
“So pretty.” Ah, thank heaven for that. “And your bottom is beautifully striped from your spanking earlier. Not quite symmetrical—I stopped after fifteen strokes—but lovely even so. And still just a little hint of redness all over. You do respond well to a spanking, love.”
“Thank you. I think. Sir.”
“You’re welcome.”
His murmured response is almost lost on me as he uses the fingers of his right hand to part my soaking labia. I groan in undiluted pleasure, my hips gyrating as I seek the friction I crave. A light tap on my delicate backside puts an abrupt stop to that. I try to remember my manners and remain still, though my powers of restraint are sorely tested as he sinks two fingers deep into my drooling pussy. I fail to suppress my sigh of pleasure, but he seems inclined to disregard that.
He finger-fucks me, slow at first, swirling the two digits against my inner walls. I clench hard, tightening my muscles in some vain attempt to keep him where I want him. He pulls his fingers from me, only to slide them the length of my clit. He presses hard, his touch demanding a response. My climax surges from deep within, and my body feels to be melting.
“Hold it. Not yet.” The cool, heartless words are like a splash of cold water. I whimper, at a loss for something, anything I might do to stave off the inevitable. Ewan continues to caress my clit, circling with his fingertip before rubbing from side to side. As my orgasm rears again, he pinches the plump, pulsing nub between his thumb and forefinger. I’m torn between bitter resentment and abject gratitude as my release again subsides to more manageable proportions.
“You can come just as the plug goes in. That way you’ll be relaxed and won’t be fighting or trying to resist it. So I want you right on the edge, ready to let yourself go as soon as I give you permission. Understood?”
“I think so, sir. But, what if I can’t help it? If you touch me again I think I’ll lose it.”
“You won’t. Unless you fancy another spanking this evening, of course.”
“I don’t, sir.”
“Thought not. You’re beautifully wet down here. Seems a pity to waste it. I’ve put plenty of lube on the plug itself, but I think we’ll make use of your own juices for your arse. Of course, that means a lot more finger-fucking, but I’m sure you’ll manage not to disgrace yourself. Won’t you?”
I don’t reply. My mind goes a blank as the prospect of his fingers probing, exploring, collecting my moisture to ease his entry into my arse. Oh. My. God.
“Faith, answer me. You won’t disgrace yourself by stealing an orgasm without permission, will you?” He accompanies his question with another sharp slap to my sensitive buttock.
“No, sir.” I mutter the words into the duvet, resisting the urge to squeeze down hard as though that might protect me somehow.
Ewan chuckles, then goes to work. He plunges three fingers inside me this time, scissoring them against my pussy walls to stimulate the flow of moisture. It is an effective approach; I’m conscious of my cunt trickling liquid onto my inner thighs to trail down my leg. He shifts his angle slightly to focus on my G-spot, the caress sheer agony as I mount a desperate inner struggle to resist.
“Not easy, is it, little subbie. But you’re doing so well and it will be worth it. I promise.”
I could almost cry with relief as he slides his fingers from my pussy. He uses his left hand to part my buttocks, exposing my anus to his gaze.
“Mmm, this looks tight. Fucking gorgeous.”
I wince as he circles the small hole with the tip of his slick finger, though there is nothing painful or even uncomfortable in his caress. My mind is in turmoil, still grappling with the forbidden wickedness of this, while my body is already slackening, opening, welcoming. He presses, applies only the merest hint of force, and my arse opens to admit his finger. He slides it in, just an inch or so, perhaps to the first knuckle. He stops, twisting his finger inside me to widen the entrance.
I let out a groan, humiliated and hopelessly aroused in equal measure.
“How are you doing, Faith?” Ewan’s finger stills as he waits for my affirmation that all is well.
“I’m fine, sir.”
“Okay to continue?”
“Yes, sir.”
He presses a little harder, and the rest of his finger sinks inside me. I would collapse onto the bed, but his left arm is again looped around my waist and he is supporting my weight, holding me in place. He pulls his finger out again, then drives it deep. He has his entry; my anus offers no resistance as he finger-fucks my arse. His long, determined strokes work the sphincter as the last of my emotional resistance ebbs away.
Perhaps Ewan senses when I am ready. Perhaps there is some signal, some evidence of total surrender which his experienced dom’s eyes can detect. His left arm now stretches right around me, his hand reaching between my widespread thighs until his fingers are strumming my clit. Light at first, just scraping his fingernail along the swollen tip, the touch gossamer, almost not there. He increases the pressure and I know I can’t hold out for long.
“Sir… Please, please.”
“Okay, love, I know. I want you right on the edge, almost there. Almost…”
“Oh, God!” I’m whimpering now, near incoherent with lust as he draws his finger slowly along the tip of my quivering clit. My pussy is convulsing, juices running down my thighs. Ewan sees, withdraws his digit to scoop up the moisture from my legs before plunging two fingers into my arse. I scream, but not in pain. Merciful at last, he lifts his fingertip from my clit as I shake and shiver in response, my orgasm bubbling, growing, gathering force, just moments away.
He thrusts one last time, deep and hard, then pulls out his fingers. The cool hardness of the butt plug feels strange against my rear opening as he slips the head of it inside me. His left hand shifts again, his fingers connecting with my clit and rubbing hard. I shatter.
I am engulfed by wave after wave of intense sensation, my body convulsing in wild spasms as my release erupts, unstoppable at last. I am aware, just, of the hard, unrelenting intrusion as Ewan slides the butt plug home, my arse offering no resistance as every muscle dilates. It’s there, in place, inside me, but still my orgasm continues. Ewan massages my clit, expert in his ministrations as he draws every last shiver and ragged sigh from me. Long after he has achieved his goal he carries on, until I am totally spent.
“Nice work, little sub. Now that didn’t hurt a bit, did it?”
I groan, the best reply I can manage right now. Ewan chuckles as he stands up. His support withdrawn, I crumple onto the bed to collapse in a heap on my side.
I watch in silence as Ewan undresses beside me, not entirely sure what might be coming next. A naked Ewan is a good sign though, and always a joy to behold. I admire his taut bu
m as he moves over to the small hand basin in one corner of the room and washes his hands before he strolls back to the bed and stretches out alongside me.
“Roll onto your back.”
I do as I am told, what else? My hands are still tied behind me so I have to manoeuvre with care, but I manage. He props himself up on one elbow, leans over to kiss me.
“God, you’re lovely.”
“You too, sir.”
He smiles, the dimples flashing. So sexy, so bloody gorgeous. I close my eyes, too emotionally wrung out to find any further conversation.
I gasp as he flicks my left nipple with his tongue before fastening his lips around it. He sucks, the tug soft, achingly gentle in contrast to the sensations of a few moments ago. He leans across to apply the same treatment to my right breast, bringing both peaks to pebbling hardness.
He works his way down my body, nibbling past my stomach and belly button, and over my smooth mound. Unbidden, I spread my legs as wide as I’m able, open to whatever he chooses to do next. He nuzzles my clit, feathering light kisses across the tip before tracing the outline of my inner lips with his tongue. I am instantly aroused, poised to orgasm again.
“Sir, if you do that, I…”
“You can come as much as you like now. Relax, enjoy yourself.”
Oh. Thank God and all the saints. I let out the breath I only now realise I’ve been holding, and give myself over to the pure sensual joy of being so expertly mastered.
His bite blunted by his lips, Ewan takes my clit between his teeth and holds it still for the onslaught of his tongue. He is relentless, bringing me back to a shuddering release within seconds. As that orgasm dies away he slides three fingers inside my pussy again, angling his wrist so that his fingers hit my G-spot with each inward stroke. I lift my hips, and he uses his free hand to take hold of the finger grip protruding from my arse and stirs the plug inside me like a spoon. At last the peculiar shape of the device makes sense as the inner plug sweeps slowly around the walls of my arse sending a volley of amazing, thrilling vibes straight to my clit. My nervous system is alight, crackling. I tremble as Ewan awakens unknown, up to now unimagined sensations. My response is bone-deep as I sink into the throes of yet another orgasm.
