Healing Cathy

by Kasey Belle

  “I understand. To answer your question, I only want you to call me Paul in this room or while we are in a scene. I am Paul, not Sir, not Master, only Paul.”

  She sighed and a serene smile overtook her lips. “Yes, Paul.”

  He leaned in and kissed those pouty lips. He licked the seam, she sighed and opened so sweetly, for him. He buried his fingers in her hair, at her nape, and held her in place. He dominated her mouth. He pulled back and nipped at her lower lip, then used his tongue to soothe away the sting. He pulled back. She opened her arousal glazed eyes.

  “Wow.”

  “Wow, is right, kitten. I want you to lay across the spanking bench.”

  She looked at the bench confusion, to him, and then back to the bench.

  “I’m not quite sure how to do that.”

  He took pity on her and maneuvered her to the end of the bench. Paul urged her to straddle it, though nervous and confused, she did as he asked. He had her place her knees on the padded rests while her chest and abdomen draped over the padded top. The sight of her perfect luscious ass in the air, made it nearly impossible to contain himself. He wanted to lower his zipper, free his cock, and bury himself inside her. But, that would have to wait for another day.

  He kneeled down in front of her so she could see him, without straining her neck. “I would usually bind your hands and legs. I’m not going to do that, as we discussed restraint was a hard limit for you. I may push your limits, but I will never cross that line.”

  “I believe you.”

  “Thank you, kitten, your trust is a gift. A gift I will cherish, forever. A gift I would never betray, by expecting or demanding more than you are comfortable giving. We are more than Dominant and submissive. We are more than participants in a scene. We are more than Paul and Cathy. You are more because you are my mate.”

  Paul leaned in and kissed her quivering lower lip. He lingered for only a moment before pulling back. He tucked an errant curt behind her ear and gazed into her violet eyes. “I can scent your nervousness, but not fear.” Her cheeks pinked, and she dropped her gaze. He would have none of that. He tucked his fingers under her chin and raised it. She had no choice, but to look him in the eyes, once more. “It’s okay to be nervous. It heightens the anticipation and the awareness. Now, wait here, don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

  She smirked. “Yes, Paul.”

  He opened the armoire and pulled out the flogger, he intended to use. A Handcrafted Violet Purple New Zealand Deer Flogger with a black and purple diamond braid handle. He bought all his floggers from a couple in Dallas who specialized in making them for the past fifteen years. He smiled and shook his head when he realized the flogger which he commissioned over a year ago, was the exact color of his mate’s eyes. It was an interesting piece and he couldn’t wait to use it.

  He walked back over to his mate and knelt in front of her once again. Usually, he wouldn’t show her is toy of choice, allowing the anticipation of the unknown to increase her pleasure, but this wasn’t a usual situation. Everything he did in this room, every action, and every word would determine their entire future. He held out the flogger so she could see it. She gasped.

  “Remember I would never hurt you.”

  She swallowed and gave him a hesitant nod.

  “This flogger is made from New Zealand Deer hide. It’s thicker than standard deer hide and lighter than elk hide. I want you to touch it, feel the velvety softness of the tails.”

  She ran her finger through the thin strips of hide. “They are soft. There is a lot of them too.”

  “Thirty, twenty-inch long, half-inch wide tails. Each designed to deliver light impact, a velvety thud, with no sting. If wielded correctly will deliver a sensual massage with absolutely no pain. In other words, it’s perfect for you. I had this made a year ago, with my mate in mind. I guess even then I subconsciously knew the color of your eyes.”

  She looked up at him in surprise. Her tinkling laughter filled the quiet space.

  “I asked you to give me a small amount of your trust. I am going to give a small amount of mine, in return.” He took her hands in his and wrapped each one around the hand holds under the padded headrest. “I want you to hold on to these.”

  She jumped when he delivered a few test strokes to his forearm. He tucked his middle and forefinger under her chin. “Three rules to remember. One, I will never hurt you. The only pain you will experience when we play, is sensual, erotic pain. We will get to that, but not today. Two, you will have a safeword, and you will use your safeword if you need it. You shouldn’t have to use it, but I expect you to if you do. Understand?”

  “Yes, Paul.”

  “You call yellow if you are unsure or need to slow down. We’ll stop, talk it out, and see if we can move past it. You call red when you need to stop the scene. I will always honor your safeword. I never want you to be afraid to use it. Call red, the scene will stop immediately, and we will discuss what went wrong. Alright?”

  “Yes, Paul.”

  “Three, keep your hands on the holds. Don’t try to cover or protect yourself from the impact. I don’t want to accidentally hit your hands and cause damage. If you feel the need to protect yourself, then you don’t trust me not to hurt or I am doing it wrong, and we should stop.” He squeezed her hands. “Do not let go, unless you are calling your safeword.”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. “Yes, Paul.”

  He ran his fingers through her silky, fire-red hair. “I’m so proud of you, mate. I want you to relax, close your eyes, let everything go, and just feel. What is your safeword to slow down?”

  “Yellow.”

  “What is your safeword to stop?”

  “Red.”

  “If everything is good, I want you to tell me you’re green, when I ask.”

  “Yes, Paul. I’m green.”

  “Good girl,” Paul growled, his wolf making himself known. He leaned forward and kissed her once more, because, well he couldn’t resist those sweet, pouty lips.

  He stood back out of her line of sight and looked his fill. He wanted to remember every detail about this moment. In fifty years, when he looked back, it would be as fresh in his mind as it is today. Her luscious, curvy form draped over the spanking bench he had made just for her. Her soft, ivory skin would turn pink under his flogger. The scent of her arousal. The scars on the back of her legs and buttocks were a testament to her strength and trust in him not to add to them. He would never forget her trust. He would cherish it for the rest of his life.

  Paul listened to her breathe in and out, slowly relaxing her body. The second she loosened her white-knuckle grip on the hand holds, he began.

  ****

  Her body relaxed and Paul immediately brought the tails down on her flesh. She hadn’t expected him to start immediately and the first impact of the flogger startled her.

  “Relax, kitten, and feel.”

  She grabbed hold of Paul’s soothing, baritone voice and used its rich tone to reach for her calm, as the tails made contact, this time on her right shoulder. When the flogger’s tails made contact with her skin it was like a caress, the impact amazingly light. Everyone’s idea of pain was different and Cathy had expected some discomfort, there wasn’t any. The strokes of the soft deerskin felt wonderful. Paul was right; it was like a sensual massage. Also, much to her surprise, she found it extremely arousing. Paul made his way from her shoulders down to her buttocks. He avoided her spine and kidneys. The part of her brain that was still engaged, reminded her about their conversation at dinner. He explained how dangerous it was to land blows to those areas, no matter how light.

  Paul increased his speed and the force of the impact as he made his way down the back of her thighs and back up again. The blows never morphed into pain. The heavier the blows, the deeper they massaged her muscles and inflamed her arousal. Her mind couldn’t focus on anything, but the rhythm, swoosh, thud, swoosh, thud, swoosh, thud. She never wanted the flogging to en
d. Cathy would gladly lay here and let him do that, for a few more hours. Just as quickly as Paul started, he stopped. If she had the energy, she would have protested. Unfortunately, Cathy seemed to have turned into a jellyfish.

  She could feel Paul’s hands lightly caressing her back, as he murmured words her fuzzy brain didn’t understand. A warm, soft blanket draped over her back. She felt his hands on hers, vaguely understanding, he wanted her to release her grip, on the holds. It took every last bit of strength she had, to get her hands, to obey her brain. Once her hands fell away, she fell into the peaceful black.

  ****

  Paul used a gentle sweeping motion, as he passed the soft leather over his mate’s skin, gradually increasing the strength of the impact. He watched her skin pinken under his mastered skill. His cock threatened to burst through his zipper.

  He made a single pass down, asking her state twice, to which she answered, green. He made his way up her back and asked, again. She answered with a slurred green. Paul had not expected her to find subspace, not her first time. Damn, she was responsive. He ended the scene sooner than he planned because she no longer had the ability to call her safeword. He wouldn’t continue the scene, where she no longer had the ability to choose.

  He grabbed the soft blanket he set out earlier, wrapped it around his sweet mate, and carried her to the over-stuffed chair in the corner. Paul held Cathy securely on his lap, petting her, and murmuring soft words of praise and pride. He didn’t know how bad her sub-drop would be or if she would experience it at all. The thought that she might regret what they shared, made his gut churn.

  Soon, she began to stir. Her lashes fluttered before she finally opened her eyes. He breathed a sigh of relief when the only emotions he saw in them were confusion and arousal.

  A blush stole across her cheeks. Her hair was a mess. Her eye make-up was smudged around her eyes. Her lips still swollen from his earlier kisses. She was fucking beautiful or was that beautifully fuckable?

  He smiled and asked, “How do you feel?”

  “Um, good?”

  He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Are you asking me, telling me, or perhaps, good is not the word you were looking for? I think, aroused is the word.”

  She covered her face with her palms in mortification making him laugh. He pried her hands away. “Do not hide from me, mate. I am fucking ecstatic that you feel aroused. You were made for this, for me.” He put his hand inside the blanket, ran his hand along her inner thigh, and pulled it towards his chest, opening her. She tried to close her legs, but he refused to move his hand. She wasn’t a match against his strength.

  “Leave them open. I can smell your need. Allow me to ease it, kitten.”

  “I-I can’t.”

  “If you aren’t ready, I understand.” He didn’t like it though.

  “No, I mean, I can’t come.”

  “You…what?” No she wasn’t saying what he thought she was, was she? “You’ve never had an orgasm before?”

  Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “No. I couldn’t with Bud, we both know why. I tried, by myself. I can’t. I’m broken.”

  “You aren’t broken, kitten. You learned to associate sex with pain. Your mind won’t let your body relax.”

  He cupped his hand over her mound. He grazed his thumb over her swollen and slippery clit, moaning out loud at the slick proof of her arousal.

  “If you were broken you wouldn’t be so wet, kitten.”

  Her needy wiggling on his lap did nothing to calm down his own excitement, and he grew harder, as impossible as that sounded.

  “Relax, kitten.” He pressed into her and her pussy muscles clenched around his fingers causing more juices to leak onto his hand. “You are so fucking hot and wet. Your pussy walls are gripping my fingers. I can feel them flutter every time I run the pads of my fingers over your g-spot.” He moved his fingers in and out of her, constantly brushing the pads of his fingers over her special spot. She threw her head back, eyes closed, as she panted. “Fuck, yeah. Come for me, kitten. Come hard.”

  She moaned his name as she came. He growled as he imagined how those tight muscles would feel clamping down on his cock as he claimed her. He was hard as brick, his needy dick pulsing with each beat of his heart.

  “So sweet and soft,” Paul murmured, as he nuzzled her neck, trying to control the urge to sink his canines into her flesh, mark her, and claim her. He licked and kissed his way from her ear down to her shoulder. “I can’t wait to find out what your pussy tastes like, kitten.”

  Cathy moaned, “Please.”

  “Not tonight, kitten. If I put my mouth on you, I am not going to stop until I claim you, and you aren’t ready for that yet.”

  She blinked up at him. “That was, wow.” Her lower lip quivered. “I’m not broken.”

  “I told you, you weren’t.”

  She hugged him, buried her face in his neck, and whispered. “Thank you.”

  He smiled, feeling a bit smug. “Anytime, kitten. Seriously, you want to come, I am your man.”

  He gave her one last kiss then helped her to her feet. He held her hips steady when she swayed. He waited until she nodded that she was okay before he let her go. “Get dressed, kitten. It’s late. I need to get you home. I don’t want to deal with an angry, overprotective Luke. He may be seven, but that won’t stop him from trying to kick my ass, for bringing his mother home at an indecent hour.”

  Paul walked her to his cousin’s front door, leaned in, and gave her a long sensual kiss. He pulled back and caressed her cheek. “You are my mate and I will wait until you are ready. Dream about me, kitten. I will certainly dream about you.”

  Chapter 20

  “You should go.” Fiona sat cross-legged on Cathy’s bed, helped her fold laundry, and smiled at her like a giddy teenager. “Seriously, Cat. Luke is spending the night at Jay’s. Go over to Paul’s. You know you want to. You said it yourself, you were going to accept him.”

  “I said, I was thinking about it.”

  “Yeah, but your eyes said yes.”

  Cathy rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” Cathy tossed a pair of balled up socks at Fiona’s head.

  “Hey!” Fiona batted the socks away. “Lobbing socks means war you know?”

  Cathy plopped down on the edge of the bed, hung her head in defeat, and sighed. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Maybe if you talk it out, it will help. I know, I made things worse the other day.”

  Cathy started to argue, and Fiona held up her hand to stop her. “I did. Don’t worry about me or the baby. Nothing is going to happen to us. Declan and Cade won’t leave me alone long enough pee. Come on, Cathy. You had a great time at dinner, and an even better time after, if your flushed cheeks were any indication.” Fiona snickered. “Fate draws us together with our mates, but it’s not what holds us together. When I was married to David, we fit, and I loved him. He was my best friend, even more so than Shelly. When he died, I was devastated. Not because the other half of my soul was gone, but because my best friend, was gone. He was one of the few people I trusted, in this world. I knew, I could count on him to always be there for me, no matter what. At the time, I could count the number of people I loved on one hand. I felt as if my heart had been ripped from my chest. I would have followed him, had it not been for Emma Grace. I didn’t want to live in a world without David. He was so good and kind and loving. He was so fucking hot.” Fiona smiled, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “David and I would have been happy for the rest of our lives. I would have been content in my life with him. We loved each other.

  Even with David, there was this part of me that was empty, a part of me he couldn’t fill. I felt so guilty about that. I thought it was my fault, just another part of me that was broken. Then I met Declan and Cade and I realized that I wasn’t as broken as I thought, or well, maybe I was, and they fixed me. I don’t know. I do know, the love I had for David wasn’t a soulmate kind of love and that wasn’t my fault or his.
<
br />   Don’t get me wrong, I fought it and them. Even though they were there for me through, the aftermath of, the most horrible thing that ever happened to me or Emma Grace. I didn’t want to let go of David, it felt disloyal.” Fiona shrugged.

  “But you did let go. You made peace with it, obviously.”

  Fiona stared out the window, a far off look in her eye, seeing something Cathy couldn’t. “Yeah, I did, and it hurt like hell. Declan and Cade were there for that, too. Once I let go, the decision was easy. I couldn’t imagine being without them. The bond between mates is hard to put into words that don’t sound cheesy. I know this sounds cliché. After they claimed me, I felt as if they were the missing pieces to my broken toy. It was the most terrifyingly amazing thing I ever experienced. I know that if anything happened to them, I wouldn’t survive it, but I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

  “That’s what scares me the most, I think.”

  “What?”

  “If Paul turned out like Bud, I wouldn’t survive it.”

  “You already know Paul’s nothing like that dick. Stop listening to your brain, its logic is flawed in this instance, because it’s trying to protect you. Listen to your heart and your gut, what are they saying?”

  “That I love him,” tumbled out of her mouth without thought. “I… I mean-”

  “Too late. You said it.”

  “It’s too soon. How do I know that’s what I feel? I loved Bud.”

  “Did you, really?”

  When Cathy didn’t answer immediately, Fiona imitated a game show buzzer. “Ehhh. If you have to think about it, the answer is, no. He took advantage of you.”

  “And I was dumb enough to fall for it.”

  “Did I say that? No, I didn’t. You believed him, there is no fault in that. He was your best friend’s brother. You had no reason not to believe him. Cut yourself some slack.”

  “I want what you have, Fiona.”

  “Then go get it.”

  “I’m afraid.”

  “Of course you are. I would be concerned if you weren’t. Paul knows you are. Be honest with him about why. He would never claim you without your consent. He’ll wait until you are ready.”