by Maren Smith
It made sense. She didn’t want to give her body over to someone who could possibly injure her because he didn’t understand the difference between, “No, I need a second to catch my breath,” and “No, I’m freaking out.” Especially with someone who was new and might be pushed in over her head and forget to use her safewords. That was why he’d said he wanted to get to know her nonverbal cues. It seemed ingrained in him, as a soldier, to cover all bases, plan for all contingencies as he put it. She respected that. Heck, if she’d stayed with Stephen, she might be crawling on all fours, naked with a tail in her booty at this point. Not that there was anything wrong with that, if she was ready for it. Which she wasn’t. And Chris agreed.
“Okay, we’re almost to the library. Remember what I said about not excelling at the walking blindfolded, please,” he whispered into her ear.
Maybe she was getting grumpy at constantly being told to stop doing the only thing she was really good at in this place. Or maybe she wanted to see how he would react. But the words flew out of her mouth before she had a chance to process them. She didn’t even remember what she said. But she would always remember the tone; the way she halted right there in the doorway, her hands on her hips. And she would always remember what happened next.
He stopped. She heard the inhale through his nose, followed by a loud swallow right behind her neck, then the soft exhale against her neck and left ear. “You want to try that again, little girl?” The hand on the back of her neck tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind her of its presence.
“I’m not a little girl,” she said through clenched teeth, “and I don’t appreciate being constantly condemned.”
A hand on her lower back pushed her firmly into the room, and the door shut with a click behind her. She could have reached out her hands, felt her way around the room, found a chair to sit in, but she didn’t. She stood there, her breaths aching in her chest, her underwearless bottom still half begging for attention as the lock clicked into place and his footsteps neared her.
The silk was removed, and she opened and closed her eyes a few times. It wasn’t because she could see, but because she needed to have that moment of control.
“We’re alone and the door is locked. Now we can talk. You having a rough time, princess?” It was hard to tell if he was empathetic or angry, his voice was so cool. Damn. She just had to be straight with him.
“Yes, I am having a rough time.” Tears pricked her eyes. She could feel them. It was weird how she could feel dry, itchy, wet, everything that one could possibly feel, even the cool air when she had opened her eyes. Yet they still did not work in the one way they were meant to. To see. “It’s all I have, and you took it away from me.” She rubbed her eyes, angry with herself for acting so emotionally wrecked. “It’s stupid, okay. I understand I’m here for my protection. I know that you are only trying to do what’s necessary to keep me lying low and blending in, but it’s freaking me out. Even more than my first… that thing you did with me.”
“The spanking?”
“Yes, that.” She blew out a long breath and tried to relax her shoulders. “I thought that would be hard to reconcile, and, believe me, it is taking some thought. But the hardest part is being led around, blindly.” She teared up again. “Truly, blindly, not knowing what’s going to happen next, or what I could bump into or trip over, or what something looks like, feels like. You took away my best chances at seeing the world, and I feel… I don’t know.”
“Vulnerable?”
She nodded and choked on a sob. “I haven’t felt like this since the day I lost my sight. I heard my mother crying, heard a loud crash and yell—they told me later it was Marshall’s fist going through the wall outside my hospital room—you know he blamed himself, right?”
“No, I didn’t. Sorry.”
Reaching out, she took a few steps and found what she was looking for, a huge loveseat, and collapsed into it, still shaking. “It’s just a lot, you know? I thought I had a handle on everything. I take charge of what I need. I know every room I walk into, what is there, what’s not. I can tell you the exact layout of not only our living room in our suite, but also your bedroom, the two heads in the shower, which, by the way, if you turn on the bottom shower head for ten seconds then the higher one, then turn off the bottom one, you’ll get hotter and harder jets.”
“Good to know.”
She stifled her laugh. “Yeah, well, it just helps solidify that I’m in over my head here, and I most definitely can’t do any of this submissive stuff. Probably not without freaking out. I want to, but I need the control too much.”
“And it’s confusing you.”
“What do you think?” Her voice rose to one of those high pitches she hated hearing in other women, the shrieky quality making her cringe. “Sorry. I’m a mess. I’m not trying to be a bad submissive or a bad protectee or whatever you’re calling it, but I’m just, I don’t know.” She ran her hand through her hair, frustrated. “Confused. Overwhelmed.”
“Anything else?”
“Horny.”
She heard the hiss of his breath before his steps brought him to stand just above her. “May I join you?”
She nodded and scooched to the side of the huge chair, and his large body settled in next to her.
“Keep talking, please.” He caressed a strand of her hair from her cheek.
“This whole place has me in sensory and sexual overload. Every time I hear someone being spanked or groaning, good Lord, I am pretty sure I heard a man getting a blow job while another spanked the woman giving it when we were upstairs.”
“Yeah, that was a naughty Little Maid who hadn’t done a good job of cleaning, so two Doms punished her. She was loving it.”
“I could tell. All three were.” She felt the heat rush to her cheeks as she remembered the sharp slaps of the man’s palm to the woman’s buttocks, the soft slurps and groans and moans. “I’m so turned on right now, and so confused, and you’re not letting me be in control of anything. It’s almost scaring me.”
She let him pull her against his chest, and she listened to the rapid rhythm of his heartbeat.
“Okay, let’s go over our choices,” he said as he stroked her head almost absentmindedly. “I like contingency plans.”
She laughed. “Yeah, you seem as in need of control as me.”
“So we should both be able to come up with some good ideas. First idea. We move out to a private cabin in the woods. Marshall has several of them on the other side of the Castle.”
“I’d prefer to stay here. I like the sound of other people around. I just need to get used to the constant stimulation.”
“Okay, number two. We stay in our suite for the rest of the time you’re here. Maybe only come out for dinner. Have the rest delivered.”
She shrugged.
“Hmm, but that goes against your need to be around other people, although it appeals to me as your protector. So maybe not. By the way, stressed out or not, if you shrug like that again, I’m going to turn you over my knee.”
“Why?”
His fingers stroked across her cheek, then her lips, before he leaned in to kiss her softly. Then he nipped her bottom lip. “Because, I need your words, not just shrugs. I need to hear what you’re thinking as well as what you’re emoting. It’s also more respectful to reply aloud. Plus,” he leaned in and kissed her earlobe before whispering, “I am dying to see your ass over my lap.”
“Chris, I—”
In an instant, he scooped her up, flipping her in his embrace and down she went, stomach first across his lap. A swipe of his hand brought all her skirts flying up onto her back and shoulders, baring her bottom with breath-taking abruptness.
“That’s, Sir, or Master Nelson to you, little girl.” A sharp smack jolted her across his knees. Then two fingers entered her, followed by more stroking. She was on fire.
“Please… ungh, Sir.”
“Please, what?” He twirled around her aching clit, giving it a pin
ch that almost undid her right there.
“Take me. Now. Please.”
She groaned when he stopped touching her, laid his large, warm palm against her bottom cheeks and his other hand on her back.
“Are you sure this is what you want, baby? There are other ways to get you that release you so badly want.”
“I want your cock inside me. Now. Before I explode. It’s just sex, right?” She laughed, but the smile fell from her face when he tensed under her.
He massaged her warm cheeks and gave them a light tap. “Yeah, just sex.” His lips worked their way down the small of her back to the heated curve of her right cheek. Gentle caresses as his soft lips and scruffy cheek distracted her from the ache, creating a deeper ache between her legs. “Up you go, princess. I need to put a towel down first.”
When he lifted her to her feet, she felt dizzy with anticipation, but he held her so firmly, so carefully as he pulled off her skirt, followed by her top. Pushing her forward so her breasts pressed over the back of the loveseat, he helped her to her knees in the spot they’d been sitting only a moment earlier. The leather was cool to the touch, her knees sinking into the seat, her breasts aching to be released from the confines of her bra. She shivered when Chris ran a finger down the length of her body then up the inside of her thighs.
“I’m going to spank you and fuck you, little girl.” The sound of his zipper came from right behind her where he loomed over her. The cushion sank a little when his knee came to rest next to her. Something long, smooth, and hard stroked up the outside of her left thigh. Definitely not his finger.
She reached and touched the thick, firm cock and wrapped her fingers around it, pressing him against her thigh as she rubbed him along her leg. So long, so smooth, so… holy crap, large.
“You sure about this?”
In response, she gripped him tighter and led him behind her, across her bottom, lower, between her legs, up her inner thighs.
He pulled back and placed her hands on the back of the sofa. “Don’t move. This is part of your training.”
She nodded. The sharp smack to her right upper thigh had her squealing in surprise. “Oh! Sorry. Yes, okay, I won’t move.”
“Yes, what, darlin’?” he crooned, his low voice dropping once more.
“Yes, Sir.”
The smacks started quickly, and she pressed her bottom out, begging for more. Spreading her legs, she hissed when he grazed her sensitive pussy lips. But she lifted back up again, knowing this was what she needed. To hear, feel, experience in every possible way the beauty in her submission.
The sound of ripping foil met her ears. “Putting on a condom so I can take you,” he said in a low, grunting voice that sent shivers down her spine. “Do you want me to spank you harder or fuck you senseless?” He slapped her left cheek hard, and she whimpered.
“Both. I’ve never had this, ungh, I want to experience both. Stop treating me like I’m disabled.” She pressed her rear end out as far as she could. “Please, Sir.”
Chapter 5
Chris
Well. While priding himself on his self-discipline and control, Chris was only human. And despite the length of time since his last submissive exited his life, he was at heart a Dom. A Dom who’d been ignoring his needs for more than a while. Grace’s bottom exposed on his lap, her hissing and moans at his spanks and swats… the silk of her heated skin under his palm. Human. Dom.
She couldn’t consent more than she already had, both verbally and in writing. And, as her contract stated—damn Marshall anyway—she was his only for as long as she needed to stay at the Castle under his protection. Once she was no longer at risk from the murderer, his princess would not hold that title any longer.
And not one word she’d said indicated she wanted anything different. She’d signed the contract almost eagerly after Marshall read it aloud to her. The question was: could he keep their connection on the level she’d agreed to. In the single day he’d known her, she’d awakened feelings he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. Had not ever expected to. The bond he’d shared with those in his unit had not been a romance, but it had been love. They’d all been willing to die for one another, and it was hard to call it anything else.
Survivor guilt the therapist called it, but that didn’t make it any easier.
It hurt to feel, so he clamped down on it. Which was probably a big part of why he was so jumpy yesterday in the Dungeon. Lots of raw emotion in there, impossible to ignore and triggering his own feelings. It was all he could do to beat it back before he broke down.
But this woman, just by being herself, was creating cracks in his walls. Her beautiful confidence, in the face of a life with more challenges than he could imagine, vied or surpassed the beauty anyone who saw her could view.
“Sir?”
Her question pulled him back into the moment. Bottom outthrust, exposing the pink, wet core of her, she trembled, waiting for him, and, with herculean effort, he forced back any thoughts of a tomorrow that wouldn’t come and plunged into her sweet, sweet pussy’s tight glove that embraced and welcomed him. Hot, clenching, driving away any thought but pillaging the treasure she’d offered him.
“Is that what you want, little girl?” Withdrawing, he thrust into her again, deeper, taking pleasure in the whimper she emitted. “Want me to fuck you hard?”
“Y-yes,” she moaned. “So hard.”
“I can do hard, princess.” He pumped into her, in and out, hard and fast, wanting to make sure no emotions got in the way. “You agreed to a lot of the options on the contract. Next time, you’ll take me in your ass. Do you like that idea?” He had a sweet bottom plug, shaped like a dick, but only about half the size of his own, in his pocket, which he’d picked up in his room before they came down here.
“I don’t know… I’ve never…”
“But you said you would.” Fishing out the item, he reached in front of her and said, “Open.” Remembering she couldn’t see what he held, he murmured, “It’s a butt plug. I want you to get it nice and wet, suck on it before I use it to start stretching you out. Since you never have.”
Her lips parted, and he slipped it inside, feeling her shudder.
“You like the idea more than you admit. Suck on it, little girl. The wetter it is, the easier it will go in. I don’t have any lube with me.” He gave her a moment before pulling the plug free. It dripped with spittle. He pulled all the way out for a moment and slapped her thigh. “Wider, princess.”
She shifted her knees farther apart. “Is it going to hurt?”
He wet it down even more with her copious juices and held it by her ring of muscle. “Yes.”
Grace gasped as he shoved it in, “Can it get stuck?”
“No, there’s a flange at the end that keeps it from going all the way in.” Chris worked the plug in and out. “Look at those hips rocking. I have half a mind to fuck you there right now.”
“Oh no. It’s… it hurts. But it’s good at the same time.” She thrust her head back, fingers digging into the love seat cushion. “I never…”
“Not now, then. But soon.” He gripped her hips, holding her in place, and slammed into her again.
“Will I like it?”
“Maybe. But either way, you’re going to take it.”
He wasn’t sure she heard him because the next sound she made was a wail sure to carry past the locked door, a keening cry accompanied by her back arching and her whole body going stiff—except for the muscles in her pussy that clamped down and started jets of semen spurting into the condom until she’d milked him dry. Chris forced himself to fall to the side before he landed on her and crushed her. After a long moment, he gathered himself enough to work the plug out of Grace’s bottom and wrap it in his handkerchief. Stuffing it in his pocket, he sighed and tugged her over to rest her head on his shoulder.
She gave a little shiver and pressed a kiss on his shirt. “Wow. When I took shelter here, I had no idea how involved I might become. It was supposed to
be fake. Who would think of finding me at the Castle? I was so, so… What’s that flavor they say people are who never get tied up or anything?”
“Vanilla.” But the comment had him half hard again at the thought. “Would you like to be tied up?”
“Sure, I—” Just then, at the perfect moment, a knock came on the door.
“Go away!” Chris barked out. “It’s occupied.”
“Is Ella in there? Marshall wants to see her.” And it was, of course, Stephen. If he was lying, Chris would see to it he never bothered anyone again. Well, that might be dramatic, but he wouldn’t mind giving him a bop in the nose.
“Tell him I’ll be right there,” Grace called. “Thanks.” She flashed a bright grin and murmured, “As soon as my legs are working again. Lucky he wasn’t five minutes earlier.”
“Or ten later.”
Her cheeks flared red even in the dim room. “Are you saying you’d be ready again that soon?”
“With the right incentive, sure.”
Grace shifted on the love seat. “Maybe we could try a different torment besides a spanking. I think I’m still kind of sore.”
His cock went rigid. “I like a woman who asks for torment.”
“Sadist.”
“Masochist.”
And didn’t that work perfectly for all concerned? They burst into laughter as they helped one another up, adjusted their clothing, and, after he replaced Grace’s blindfold, they headed for the door.
