by Maren Smith
“I think… I think I might like to try it for real, I mean the lifestyle. It was interesting and fun… and hot… to ask you to spank me or to pretend to be submissive, but I think…” She paused, and he held his breath. “My independence is very important to me. My ability to make my way without anyone helping. I had to prove to myself I can do it.”
“Yes?” he encouraged.
“And I think I have. For the most part. Although I did need support with this, with the situation that brought me here.”
He wanted to draw her close, settle her on his knee, cuddle her, and say it would all be all right, but not yet. He spoke in a low voice, for her ears only. “A sighted person would have been no different.”
“I realize that now. I was seeing it as a character flaw, but you’re right. Most average citizens aren’t capable of dealing with cold-blooded murderers on their own.” She tipped her face toward him like a flower into the sun, a little smile playing about her lips. “So… I think, in my fight for independence, I might have forgotten it’s okay to accept help. You know, sometimes. Help to meet needs I can’t meet myself.”
“What are you saying, princess?” His breath lodged in his throat.
“I’m saying that, even though I convinced myself I was playing, having casual sex and stuff with you, it was a lie.”
“How so?”
“When you take control, it’s a huge relief, makes me feel like I can relax for the first time in such a long time. I think because of the completely unanticipated circumstances that brought me to the Castle, I’ve uncovered—with your help—a side of me I’d never known about before.”
“I’m glad. The Castle is good for that.” Don’t read too much into it, Chris. She hasn’t said anything about wanting you to be her Dom.
“I’m sure it is, but I think it’s more.” She paused again, and two big tears rolled out from under her mask. “Chris, I know I’m a job to you, but you’re so much more than that to me. If you don’t want to continue together after the murder is solved, I understand, but until then, if you would, that is if you don’t mind… Oh, hell. How do I ask you to be my Sir without topping from the bottom?”
He wanted to cheer, but that wasn’t what she needed from him right now. She needed him to be in charge, to show her how it could be between them so she could make a real decision. Sure, she liked them together, and she liked being able to relax for once. What had it been like for her all this time fighting and clawing to always be in control?
“Tomorrow, we will go to Marshall and change the terms of your contract.” He stroked the back of his hand down her cheek, and she quivered under his touch. “But it will still end when your current circumstances do—”
“But I—” He covered her mouth with one finger.
“Did you or did you not just ask me to be your Sir? One thing I request from my subs is courtesy. Interrupting leads to spankings.”
She gave a little bounce, the minx, and he schooled his smile away before remembering she couldn’t see it. Grace had uncanny abilities to extrapolate data, though, from the least clues. Almost magical.
“As I was saying, the contract will end when you are free to leave the Castle. That gives us time to see if this is a good fit for you. You are dealing with extraordinary circumstances. That doesn’t make for good long-term decision making.”
She started to speak then stopped. “Yes, Sir.”
He took in his princess in her ball gown, with her princess hair, princess shoes, and pouting pink lips. His… not necessarily for a lifetime. But for the foreseeable future. And perhaps, just perhaps, for much longer. Honor bound him to do what was best for her, even if he did want to tie her up with a ribbon and a tag that said: Property of Master Nelson.
“Let’s go upstairs. I think we’ve had enough dancing for one night. My palm is itchy.”
“Oh good! I mean, yes, Sir.”
He could grow used to hearing that.
They moved quickly through the halls, his hand on her back, guiding her, and once the door to their suite clicked closed behind them, the silence was deafening. Despite their previous encounters, this one felt more serious, as if it meant more. Continuing on toward her bedroom, he gave her a little push. “Strip and come back into the living area naked.” He considered. “Except for the glass slippers… can’t have a barefoot princess. Scandalous.” He set a straight-back chair in the middle of the room, fetched his wide leather belt from his bedroom, and set it beside the chair then sank into the deep, comfortable couch to wait for her.
A few moments later, she returned, having followed his orders to the letter. “Stop right there,” he ordered, standing. When she paused, just inside the living area, he approached her, taking in her lovely, smooth skin and admiring how her upswept hair bared her long, graceful neck. Stopping behind her, he brought one arm around her from behind and dipped down to taste the spot where her neck met her shoulders. Her heart hammered under his forearm, and he sucked a bit of skin into his mouth and bit down, he’d leave a mark. Maybe later, she’d consent to something more permanent, but for now, temporary would do.
The reddened skin would turn purplish, a hickey, so high school, but it appealed to the possessiveness he felt toward her. He trailed kisses over her nape, and she shivered. “Time for your spanking, princess.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You like it, don’t you?” he asked, taking her hand and leading her toward the chair he’d prepared. “Being spanked.”
“It feels so strange to admit, but it’s kind of exciting.”
Chris sat down and drew her over his lap, head hanging down, the high heels on her feet forcing her bottom up high. He rubbed circles over her cheeks, warming them, preparing for what was to come. “This is a punishment spanking. As you said, it’s not a game. Can you tell me why you need a punishment spanking?”
“I, uh, I interrupted you?”
“Yes, but before that? What were you doing?”
“Topping from the bottom?”
“Yes. And it will be a hard one. It will hurt.”
“I understand, Sir.”
Dipping his fingers between her legs, he tsked. “And while you are already dripping wet, princesses who are being punished do not get to come.”
“What… Sir?” she squeaked. “Not at all?”
“We’ll see, but not until after they make up for their disrespect. Maybe not until tomorrow.” He grinned at her groan. “Perhaps the day after.” He slipped a finger inside her, then two, and withdrew some of her wetness then rubbed it over her clit. “Or next week.”
She gasped. “But I’m sorry. I promise to be good. I didn’t understand before.”
Leaving off his torment of her female folds, he slid his hand back up to rest on her bottom. “It’s my job to make sure you remember, now that you do understand.” The first smack covered both cheeks and made her jerk. “And I always take my duties seriously.”
Resting his arm on her back to hold her steady, he peppered her bottom with spanks until it was hot and red under his palm. She didn’t say a word, although her breathing grew harsh and a little sob emerged. Then, with her nicely warmed up, he stopped and reached for the belt. “You were interested in a sub who wore her welts proudly in the ballroom.”
“Yes, Sir,” she murmured. “But now, I’m not so sure. It hurts.”
Laying the belt across her back, where she could feel the weight of the leather, he once again checked out her interest level. “Hmm, it may hurt, but you are so wet I could use your own moisture, like this,”—he demonstrated, trailing the moisture back to her bottom hole—“to prepare you for my dick.”
She tensed, and he soothed her, rubbing her clit again for a moment.
“Every part of you intrigues me. But we have to finish your spanking before anything else. Business before pleasure.” Lifting the belt, he held it under her lips. “Kiss the leather before it kisses you.”
Once again, she obeyed, but her body was still tight.
“Sir?” she asked in a tiny voice.
“Yes? Did you have a question?”
“You aren’t going to use the buckle, are you?”
“No. You noticed I have the buckle in my palm when I held the leather to your lips. Now count off.” He brought the leather across her bottom with a sharp crack, and she jumped.
“One.”
The buckle? No… she wasn’t a pain slut, and a buckle could do damage even if he was careful. But as she counted off the smacks, her voice broke on each number and welts rose in the leather’s wake.
“Ten.”
Maybe he’d let her come after all. Or after him.
“Sit on my lap, princess, and let’s see how hot that bottom feels. I have a mind to fuck you right here on the chair.”
And in her bed and his, and anywhere else he could think of. Their association had a tentative expiration date, and he was building memories that might have to last him a lifetime if she walked away at the end.
“I may even let you come.”
Chapter 9
Grace
Grace sighed as she finished drying off her wonderfully achy body and pulled her cotton tunic over her head. No panties, per Master Nelson’s instructions. She ran her hands over her bottom. Still warm to the touch, the residual welts from the belt finally fading. It was Saturday morning, and she was ready to try something new. She chuckled as the cotton of her short tunic rubbed against her bottom cheeks. Chris, her friend, her protector, her lover. Master Nelson, her teacher, her Dom, her tormenter… Well, at least until he let her climax. And boy, was it worth it. They’d tried so many different things these past several days, awakened a hunger she’d never known she had. She couldn’t get enough of him, everything he did to and for her, the way he made her feel.
The whole submissive thing wasn’t coming as hard as she thought it would. Yes, she still had those moments when she wanted to throttle him for treating her like a breakable porcelain doll. But the rest of the time, he was so chivalrous. How could a Dominant also be chivalrous? It confused her that he could kneel down at her feet and kiss every inch of her from the bottoms of her feet up to her forehead then, a while later, command her to strip off her dress and crawl to him. But while he was being uber sexy and caveman-like, growling for her to crawl on all fours, he also took the time to make sure she didn’t slip on something or bonk her head on a table. He would pause her, tell her he was placing his hand on a certain corner of a table, even though she knew she wouldn’t hit it. She’d been in this room long enough to know where every single piece of furniture was. But it still made her feel protected and… loved? It was too early for that, right? But a girl couldn’t go wrong with a knight in shining armor who also liked to spank her and give her the best orgasms of her life.
She grabbed a cup of coffee from the kitchen, noticing the pot was still pretty full. Chris hadn’t had his usual two and a half cups yet. What was going on in his mind? He’d seemed fine when they were here in their suite, when he was either spooning her after a long, hard session, or talking so dirty to her, her face still felt hot and red just thinking about it. But when they were out in the Castle, he became more agitated, more tense. Like a cello strung so tightly, the first string would break after just one touch. Even a feather-like touch. Something had him more nervous than the Dungeon. They’d been back a few days ago, when he’d offered to try it again so she could have the full experience of the Castle. But once again, she had had to get him out of there. She’d reminded him that even if they were trying out a full-time Dominant/submissive relationship, he needed to get his head out of his ass for that one minute and listen to her. He did. He practically carried her upstairs and took her so hard, they both slept through dinner.
She needed to figure out what was triggering him so much. Was it the shouts and screams of pain? Was it the level of light? Chris had told her it wasn’t pitch black but was a little darker than upstairs. Was it the smell? A combination of everything? He’d put off his next therapy session until this situation got taken care of. In other words, once Carmen was found and arrested. How much longer would that be? Chris needed to work through more of his fears before he was hurt too badly. PTSD could take his life.
Grace wasn’t going to let that happen. She cared too much for the big guy with the palm of steel and heart of gold.
Chris walked into the kitchen a few minutes later. “Morning, sunshine. Sleep well?”
She returned his hug and ran her fingers over his scruffy cheek, across his puffy and dry eyes. “I did, but I’m guessing you didn’t. Are you sure you don’t want me to sleep in the same bed as you sometime? Maybe I can soothe you.”
“No!” His whole body went rigid around her. “Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat and pressing his lips to hers. “Thanks for the offer, but I still don’t feel too comfortable sleeping with anyone else. I’m already a light sleeper, and you next to me might make it worse. No offense.”
“It’s okay.” She pulled gently back to reach the carafe. “Want a cup of coffee? I was surprised you hadn’t had most of the pot yet.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
She liked that he let her do stuff like serve him coffee. It was one of the few little things he let her do, but it made her feel self-sufficient and independent. Now, if he would just back off on other things… “Here you go.”
He took a long sip, and she heard the low clunk of the ceramic cup being set on the small island behind him. “I’ve been having nightmares.” He took her hand when she reached out. “It gets worse when we’re in a loud area where I can’t see well. The Dungeon is pretty well lit, but there’s something about the walls and the floor that reminds me of…” She felt him shudder. “I don’t think it’s the noise or visual by itself. I think it’s both, and, for some reason, it affects me, even though I know there are no bullets, no men dying next to me, no IEDs. Yeah, I know that, my brain gets it, but my body doesn’t always get the message.”
“Sorry. Thank you for telling me.”
“Well, I don’t want you to worry I am going to go crazy on you, and I think we should always be honest, even if it is hard as fuck to do so.”
“I have an idea. Something we could try just for a few minutes.”
“What do you have in mind, princess?”
“I’d like to blindfold you.”
She couldn’t get a gauge on his reaction. Nothing. No sudden inhale, no tensing of his body; it was like he wasn’t breathing at all. Placing her palm in front of his mouth, she gently stroked his lips. “Are you breathing, Sir?”
Finally, a long inhale followed by a few short exhales puffed against her fingers. “Yeah.” His voice sounded strangled.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m not claustrophobic, and I’m not afraid of the dark. You’re not talking about handcuffing me or anything, so I’m not sure why I shorted out there for a sec.”
“Do you think the loss of your sight for just a few minutes is going to give you less control?”
“Yeah,” he choked. “I think so.”
“My sweet, big guy, I want to share my world with you—just for a minute or two. Five, tops. Remember what you said about my submission?” She stroked his stubbled cheek—he preferred when she ran her palm upward rather than down. She’d figured that out early on. He practically purred when she did this. “You said my submission was a gift to both of us. For you, a chance to dominate me, for me a chance to release my fears and accept the joy in the moment. If you can give me that trust, I promise, I won’t let you get hurt.” She kissed the side of his mouth. “And I promise you will get to try out my world in a way that helps you release your own fears. But just for a few minutes, and only if you allow it.”
“You’re asking me to submit to you, little girl?” His growly Dom voice was back in force. Good. She could fe
el the upturned lips and crinkles in his cheek, meaning he was grinning at her.
“If that’s what you want to call it. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”
“Hell, a good Dom needs to know what it feels like to submit so he can understand what his sub is going through. You really want me to do this?”
“Only if you do. I think it could help you figure out some stuff. But I won’t pressure you, and, at any time that you feel like it’s too much, we can take off the blindfold.”
“All right. Let’s do this. Here’s what I’m going to need.” He pulled her in for a deep kiss before releasing her. “I’m not Master Nelson or Sir once we begin. I’m just Chris. I’ll let you put it on me and take it off.”
“You don’t have to do that—”
“Hey, if I’m going to do this, I’m doing it to the hilt.” He interrupted her with a smack to her backside. “Stop overthinking this. I’ll use the same colors you use. Green for good, yellow for slow down, red for stop and take the damn thing off before I rage. Got it?”
She giggled. “Okay. I’m also going to pay attention to your physical reactions, so I won’t let you go any further than you can take.”
“Domme in the making.” He chuckled. “Okay, one more thing.”
“Anything.”
“When we’re done, I get to do whatever I want to your body as my reward.”
“That sounds fair. Okay, you ready? Chris?”
He tensed for a minute before giving a shaky, “Hooah, let’s get ’er done.”
“All right. Please get the blindfold for me and have a seat on the loveseat.”
His deep laugh echoed through the room as he gripped her bottom and gave it a tight squeeze. “Yes, ma’am.”
She strode into the living room and waited for him to sit down. When he handed her the silk, she fought the urge to call a halt to the whole thing. What was she doing? What if it freaked him out even more?
“I can do this, Grace.” He must have read her mind.
