Kyle’s face darkened with rage, and Tabitha felt a moment’s real fear.
“Who is he?”
Tabitha told him and looked away in shame.
Kyle instantly held her close and spoke tenderly in her ear. “I’m furious with him, darling, and I’ll take care of it. It has added to your punishment because you didn’t have to put yourself in the position of having to fend him off. You didn’t have to run away. But I don’t care what you had to do with him. That is over now.”
He slipped her beneath the covers and got in behind her to fit himself closely to her back. The bed barely held them both, but Tabitha welcomed the close quarters. She felt safe and loved and protected. She felt like she belonged. She wasn’t happy about the pending punishment because she suspected Kyle had a lot to express, but resigned herself to it.
Chapter Twelve
When Tabitha awoke the next morning, she found Kyle had been busy. The smell of coffee enticed her downstairs after she had showered and belted her robe around her. The sight of him so comfortable in her kitchen took her breath away and brought tears to her eyes. Could it really be so simple? He had said he was sorry and explained himself. If she accepted, would things go back to the way they were, only better? Once he provided her punishment. Against her better judgement, Tabitha allowed her arousal to grow. Kyle might punish her but would never really hurt her, and she longed for the pleasure that would follow. And maybe the punishment would cleanse her. She decided she would accept it, although Kyle seemed very sure of himself and a perverse part of her wanted to mess with him, shake that certainty.
Kyle turned from his perusal of the contents of the refrigerator. His eyes swept over her from head to toe, and he raised an eyebrow. Tabitha’s fingers went to the tie of her robe automatically, and she let it slip from her body then went to him. He kissed her leisurely and ran his hands down her back to cup her buttocks, then nuzzled her neck.
“No wonder you are so thin, Tabitha,” he commented. “You have very little to eat in this place. We’ll go into the village afterward to fill the cupboards.”
Tabitha flinched, and Kyle continued, “I’ll look up Mr. Bend while we are there.”
Tabitha stared at the floor and stayed silent.
Kyle asked, “Do you want coffee before or after I punish you?”
Tabitha shrugged, and he pulled her head back by her hair to stare into her eyes. “Before or after?”
“That would be your choice, Kyle,” she murmured and relaxed at his murmur of approval.
“Go into the living room, and kneel in the middle of the room facing the door,” he ordered.
Tabitha obeyed and instantly observed the lengths of clothesline lying on the coffee table now pulled before the fireplace. Two clothespins and a yardstick lay on it as well beside a strip of the nightgown Kyle had destroyed the night before. Her hairbrush looked out of place with the other objects, as did the pestle she used to grind and press her paints. The bottle of baby oil was self-explanatory, and Tabitha shivered. Kyle slowly approached her, wearing only his jeans, the top button undone, the belt now hanging from his hand. He unzipped and pulled his cock out. Tabitha opened her mouth without being told and began to fellate him, using only her mouth, keeping her hands on her thighs.
Kyle took his time with her, thrusting slowly into her mouth as she worked her tongue around the head of his cock and then his shaft, tracing the vein along the underside. She had not forgotten the taste of him and didn’t flinch when he suddenly began to force deeper, testing her gag reflex. Tabitha took him all, willing to suffer a bruised mouth for him, willing to choke if he willed it. But of course, he took only his pleasure without hurting her, although she was sorely out of practice. She drank down his ejaculate when he held against the back of her throat and urged her to swallow on him. Kyle stroked his finger across her lips after he withdrew, and she licked the seed from it.
* * * *
Kyle felt in control of himself now and moved to discipline Tabitha, both to help her work through the guilt she felt but to also deal with the morass of emotion she had drowned herself in. It would help him, too, in establishing himself as her Dom again and helping her let go of the crippling control she had self-imposed. He literally had been dying inside without her. It would serve to cement his apology and commitment. This might the first of only a few such sessions. Tabitha might be pregnant. In fact, he wouldn’t use protection for the remainder of the time here. He wanted children with Tabitha, and he knew she would be a wonderful mother and not repeat her own mother’s mistakes. He would be a good father, too. He pulled her to her feet and had her lie face down on the stone coffee table. It wouldn’t be comfortable despite the comforter he had folded over it. He secured her wrists and ankles to the four legs with enough play to slide a pillow beneath her belly. He then stripped his jeans off to allow his cock, hard again, to spring free. Jeans just weren’t leathers.
Tabitha lay, restrained and spread, awaiting his next move. Kyle picked up the yardstick and laid two quick strokes on her uplifted buttocks. She whimpered as he watched the welts raise a beautiful pink against her ivory skin.
“Do you know why I am administering these strokes, Tabitha?” he asked.
Tabitha moaned, “Because I ran and didn’t talk things out.”
Kyle laid another two strokes with more authority. “You disobeyed me, Tabi, and put yourself in grave danger. You reverted to your past instead of calling upon the present and the person you had become. You disappoint me because you lost faith in yourself. You are better than that and can rise above even my stupidity.”
He struck her again, six times, and her shoulders began to shake. Kyle crouched beside her head and crooned into her ear, exhorting her to let go, stroking over her hair and down her back to where the heat from his blows was evident. He poured baby oil down the cleft of her buttocks and spread it around her anus, the puckered opening flinching as his finger breached it. Kyle pulled out and added more oil, hearing Tabitha moan the loss of his digit. He added a finger, pushing in deep and making a scissoring motion. Tabitha clenched on him and moaned louder. The only concession Kyle allowed to express his anger was the pestle. It was made of marble and was the size of his largest butt plug, nearly the size of a dildo, and Tabitha’s anus had likely been untried for months. He didn’t allow himself to think about what that Roger Bend had forced her to do. It would not have touched Tabitha’s soul, as adept as she was at dissociating herself from any sexual act other than with him. But Tabitha’s body also belonged to him, Kyle Stone, and Bend had poached. He planned to destroy the man.
Returning to the matter at hand, Kyle dipped the pestle in the oil and began to insert it into Tabitha’s anus. She gasped and tried to squirm away, but he held her steady with a hand on her back and pushed steadily.
“This is your punishment, Tabitha,” he said darkly. “Consider it a gift as well, because when I fuck you here, you will be stretched. I am not going to be easy on you, my love.”
Once the pestle was firmly seated, Kyle took up the hairbrush and heated every inch of Tabitha’s bottom. He varied his placement and the intensity of the blows until she cried as though her heart was broken. Only then did he relent, after tapping the base of the makeshift plug a final time.
Tabitha now existed in subspace, the pain and poison leached from her soul, her guilt expunged. Kyle knew that the soreness of her buttocks was a mere impression, although the fullness in her anus would ground her to some degree. Kyle inserted the handle of the hairbrush into her pussy and thrust it in and out, then left it high inside her as he pulled out the pestle. She whimpered then gasped as his cock pushed in without any further preliminaries, bigger even than the pestle. He fucked her relentlessly, reaming her, reminding Tabitha of their ritual, but moreover, he was re-establishing his claim of her, and she accepted it. He powered on and on and then slid a hand beneath to find her clit. It took but a stroke for her to orgasm, and he pumped his cum against the walls of her bowels as she
did so.
Kyle growled the words against the back of her neck, “I love you Tabitha. I love you. And if I ever give you reason to question your trust in me again, you will come to me, and I will make it right.”
Kyle knew better than to promise that he would never fuck up again. He appreciated the frailty of human beings and had reluctantly accepted that he was one of their ranks. Tabitha might yet remind him that he had openly admitted to being an egotistical boor. He reluctantly pulled from Tabitha’s tight bottom. He was tempted to turn her over and use the clothespins on her nipples and fuck her again with the end of the hairbrush until she came over and over, not to mention having a taste of her pussy. But she needed to be taken care of and fed. They still had to go into the village and take care of business. He would spend the rest of the afternoon playing with her.
* * * *
Tabitha could hardly sit on the leather seat of Kyle’s rental. Her buttocks burned and stung despite the cool cloths Kyle had applied before the cucumber lotion. Her anus and vagina were a bit sore, too. However, she didn’t complain. Kyle had really been angry, although she suspected it was more at himself than with her. She had welcomed the experience, recognizing that it meant they had passed through a difficult time and were moving on. Her anxiety about going with Kyle into the village had nearly totally diminished. He would take care of everything while making sure she was fine with it. Somehow, he knew how to do that without much discussion. He knew her as well as she knew herself, if not better. And, she discovered, she knew him. Never again would she accept anything less than what she believed he could give her. Never again would she hold back until he offered, although she would stay within the boundaries of a D/s relationship because it suited them both. And if he messed up, she would confront him. He would indeed make it right. She finally accepted that she ultimately had the control in their relationship, and if she wasn’t happy, then he certainly would not be.
Kyle smiled at her. “Sore, baby?” he asked.
“A little,” she replied.
“I won’t say I’m sorry because I’m not, but I won’t paddle you again. At least not in the next while, unless you deserve it,” he added. “Think hard now if there is anything else you need to tell me.”
Tabitha closed her eyes and swallowed. “Roger said he has a cousin…”
She watched as Kyle nearly strangled the steering wheel in his fury. He would be thinking of how vulnerable she had been and that he had not been there for her.
“I’ll take care of it,” he said, with no inflection in his voice. “Is there anything else?”
“No.”
Tabitha canvassed every inch of the small market store. She examined nearly every item, carefully choosing several to place in her basket. Anything not to think about what was happening in that office off of the back alley. Kyle would take care of things. Of that she was certain. What she couldn’t bear was the thought of what Bend would tell Kyle, what he would say she had done for him. Tara Larson hadn’t cared, for it meant next to nothing to her. She had simply endured then put it behind her. Tabitha cared. Deeply. Kyle might be disgusted and angry with her and hold her in contempt. Her stomach was in knots, and she felt light-headed with worry.
“Tabitha.” Kyle’s deep voice broke into her reverie, and he pulled her back against his chest. “Tabitha, it’s okay. I promise you. I love you, darling. This has not touched what we have.”
Silent tears flowed, although she tried to hold them back. He knew her so well, had read her mind. She made a brave face and held out the basket.
“These should restock the larder, Kyle,” she suggested. “Unless you have something to add.”
* * * *
Kyle took the basket from her hand and guided her up to the till. He conversed with the woman who checked them through, confirming that he was indeed Tara’s significant other, although his name for her was Tabitha. The clerk tittered and blushed at his wink, and he knew the word would spread quickly that Tabitha had a protector come to be with her. He wasn’t finished with Roger Bend, and he thought to have her neighbors well on their side when Bend found out what vengeance really entailed.
Bend had blustered when Kyle had confronted him with forcing Tabitha to have sex in order to keep her home and animals safe. Kyle had been inflexible and easily intimidated the other man who then resorted to asserting that Tabitha offered herself, beginning to share lewd activities before Kyle’s stare shut him down. Kyle had left without issuing a warning or saying much of anything else. Despite Bend’s disgusting habits, he was clearly a shrewd businessman, and Kyle was certain the message to leave Tabitha alone had gotten across. Kyle would wait until Tabitha returned home with him and her animals were placed before he ruined him financially. He looked forward to it. Tabitha would likely never ask and didn’t need to know what he planned. She would know he had dealt with Bend, and that was all that was necessary.
The drive to The Knoll was made in silence, but it was of the comfortable kind. Kyle planned to spend the rest of the day making love to Tabitha, healing them both. There was lots of time to plan in the days following. She turned to look at him, love shining in her eyes, and at that moment the past totally fell away. No longer broken, their future stretched limitless before them, much like the open road on which they drove.
THE END
WWW.ALLYSONYOUNG.COM
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Allyson Young lives in cottage country in Manitoba, Canada, with her husband of many years and numerous pets. She worked in human services all across Canada and has seen the best and worst of what people bring to the table. Allyson has written for years, mostly short stories and poetry, published in small newspapers and the like, although her work appeared in her high school yearbooks, too! After reading an erotic romance quite by accident, she decided to try her hand at penning erotica.
Allyson will write until whatever she has inside her is satisfied—when all the heroes man up and all the heroines get what they deserve. Love isn’t always sweet, and Allyson favours the dark side of romance.
Allyson writes whenever the mood strikes her, sometimes in the middle of the night when she is awake and simply thinking about life. She hears others talk about their lives and relationships and is inspired to recreate some of their passions and dreams within her characters.
She can write for hours at a time, quite lost as the story unfolds, or haul out the little book she always carries with her to jot thoughts and ideas down as they occur, whether in the local grocery store or while out walking with her dogs. She sometimes has two or three stories on the go at the same time, not that they all come to fruition.
The BDSM lifestyle intrigues her, and as she continues to do her research, it becomes ever clearer that the players and the levels of involvement are as varied as any other interest people may have. She claims poetic licence and may offend the purists! There is always a flavour of the dominant male in everything she writes, but the women ultimately are appreciated and cherished and have the ultimate power in the relationship, despite the fact that love is sometimes quite blind.
Also by Allyson Young
Ménage Amour: Running to Love 1: Away
Siren Classic: Club Pleasure 1: Wishes
Ménage and More: Forgiveness
Ménage Amour: The Promise
Available at
BOOKSTRAND.COM
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Young, Allyson - Broken [Running to Love 2] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 10
