Discipline

by Emma York

  DISCIPLINE

  EMMA YORK

  COPYRIGHT

  This book is entirely the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  All Rights Reserved

  © 2017 Emma York

  No part of this book may be reproduced without written permission from the author excepting brief passages quoted in the context of a review. Any trademarked products or locations referenced in this story have been used without permission. The use of such trademarks does not represent authorisation or approval of this book by the respective trademark owners.

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE - BILL

  ONE - LUCY

  TWO - BILL

  THREE - LUCY

  FOUR - BILL

  FIVE - LUCY

  SIX - BILL

  SEVEN - LUCY

  EIGHT - BILL

  NINE - LUCY

  TEN - BILL

  ELEVEN - LUCY

  TWELVE - BILL

  THIRTEEN - LUCY

  FOURTEEN - BILL

  FIFTEEN - LUCY

  SIXTEEN - BILL

  SEVENTEEN - LUCY

  EIGHTEEN - BILL

  NINETEEN - LUCY

  TWENTY - BILL

  TWENTY-ONE - LUCY

  EPILOGUE - BILL

  EPILOGUE TWO - LUCY

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ALSO BY THE SAME AUTHOR

  The British Billionaire Series

  1 - Bid on Me

  3 - Business Secrets

  4 - One Night

  PROLOGUE - BILL

  She was completely at my mercy. It had taken a long time to get her exactly where I wanted but it was worth it. She looked exquisite.

  I had been lucky too. The bed was the perfect shape for my plans. King sized, wrought iron frame, vintage design, painted white. The four corners were what mattered most though. The bottom two curved towards each other, creating a low arch of metal. The head of the frame was the same but taller, another arch of metal, just perfect for attaching ropes.

  If she wondered why I’d brought the rope with me she hadn’t mentioned it. She hadn't questioned anything today, so different to how she usually spoke to me. Her thinking she was my boss, telling me what to do in the office. I smiled. Time for her to see who was really in charge.

  She started grumbling when I tied the last knot in place. “Please let me go,” she said, twisting her head to try and look back at me over her shoulder.

  Bound in place, my skilled knotwork prevented any escape attempt from taking place. She looked beautiful, trying to wriggle free as if she didn't want this.

  I’d tied down plenty of women in my time but none of them held a candle to her. She was truly stunning.

  Pale skin, curve of her hips drawing the eye in just the right way down to that squirming ass of hers, the one I was about to toy with.

  Naked, laid face down, wrists outstretched, struggling with the ropes. Ankles trying to kick their way free. It would never happen. She was there until I said otherwise.

  She was mine. I could do anything to her, anything at all.

  I glanced at the open case next to the bed, the things in there waiting to be used. So many things. smiled.

  “Please," she said. Her voice was so different to how it had been in her office when she'd been yelling at me. Now she sounded frightened. "Let me go.”

  “No chance,” I replied, lowering my head to whisper in her ear. She glanced up at me, fear in her eyes, fear mingled with that deeper emotion, the one I’d seen a couple of times since we met.

  She was so nervous about revealing who she really was, she thought she wanted to leave. She didn’t. I knew the truth. She might not want this but she needed it.

  “It is time,” I said slowly, enjoying the sound of each word rolling around my mouth, “to show you who is really in charge.”

  I saw it again then. That look in her eyes, that flicker of dark desire. She had brought herself here, she had given her consent to being bound. She knew what would happen once that was done. There was no turning back. It was too late for that. I couldn’t switch off my need any more than I could turn back the tide.

  I stood to one side of the bed, looking down at her body as she continued to beg me for release. She would get release, just not the sort she was expecting.

  It would come very soon. So would she.

  I raised my hand, holding it high in the air. This was the final moment of silence. Once the bond was made, once my hand fell on her, there was no taking it back. Forever, we would be joined, we would be connected. She would remember this forever.

  I would bring her pain like she’d never known. Without pain, there could be no pleasure. Schopenhauer said life without pain has no meaning.

  I would give her life meaning. I would give her the purpose she was lacking, guide her in the direction she was afraid to travel alone.

  I was going to provide her with more pleasure than anyone had ever done for her before. She would enter new realms of bliss with me as her guide. And it would all start as soon as my hand descended through the air.

  Her complaints had faded away and her breathing had changed. She had seen my hand going up from the corner of her eye. She knew what I was going to do. She also knew why.

  I had told her I was going to punish her. I was many things but I was not a liar. I had been honest with her from the start, well, apart from the one thing I had kept from her but she would find out about that soon enough.

  Until then, there was a lot we needed to do. Starting with this.

  I didn’t put too much force into the first blow. I was well practised in choosing the right strength to use for each person. I knew exactly what she needed.

  She looked so perfect, it was almost a shame to mark her skin. But I had to. Things had gone too far to develop any doubts.

  Putting my cock in her would have been simpler. I would have fucked her body and she’d have screamed with joy but then it would have been over. This was so much more.

  Spanking her was a way of fucking her soul, of bringing her to life, creating a spark that would consume us both if I wasn’t careful. I had to be careful. I’d never got too close to any of the subs I’d trained and I had no intention of breaking that rule for her.

  I took a deep breath and held it.

  It was time.

  My hand flew down and landed in the middle of her right buttock. It stung my palm so I knew how much it would sting her.

  She screamed.

  The shock alone was enough to draw that piercing sound from her.

  I knew that sound well. It was the release that they all had on the first step towards freedom, towards total submission.

  I lifted my hand as she cried, “Ow,” and tried to squirm away from me. All she succeeded in doing was shifting her hips a little. Until the ropes were untied she was going nowhere.

  Power like this was intoxicating. I loved being in control, being in charge. All my life, I had done this, taken charge. It was only right that I did the same with her, that I continued on the same path. That I made her mine.

  I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anyone. Most of them, I enjoyed once and then discarded, leaving them to pick up the pieces of their lives, try and find anything as good as what they had with me.

  But her? I didn’t want to discard her. I wanted to keep her. I wanted to own her, I wanted to explore every inch of her body. Dangerous thoughts that I wasn't supposed to have.

  This was the first time I’d seen her naked and I wasn’t disappointed. Her, the big important business woman, Miss Corporate High and Mighty, trembling in front of me when I stripped her in the middle of the room.

  Her hair had gone down first. That fierce tying back was over. After that, she i
nstantly softened, less severe, less angry even as her eyes flared defiance. But the moment I took her jacket off, she melted, her fingers trembling, her whole body on edge.

  I had unbuttoned her shirt slowly, taking my time, breathing warmly onto her skin as I revealed one inch after another of her voluptuous body. She was no wafer thin rake, she was so much sexier with a few curves, especially the swell of her cleavage as her bra came into view.

  I slid the shirt sleeves from her next, tossing it aside, her taking in heaving, gulping breaths. I knelt down and unzipped her skirt, sliding it down her legs without words, letting my fingertips rest on her thighs on the way down.

  I left her shoes on. I left her tights on. For a little while.

  Standing up again, I was hard as a rock at the sight of her. Gone was the anger, though that flash of defiance once again played across her features.

  I wanted to fuck her so badly.

  I walked around her, examining her closely, making her uncomfortable, making her realise I wasn’t going to rush things. I was going to enjoy this, I was going to savour each and every moment.

  I stopped behind her, unhooking her bra and letting the two sides fall away. I ran my hands up her spine, sliding to find the straps over her shoulders, to encourage them down. Then my hands moved on, onto her chest, my lips by her ear.

  I reached into each cup, flicking the bra away, finding her nipples hard and hot against my palms. I stroked them a single time before stepping back, moving to stand in front of her.

  She shifted in place, looking on the verge of covering her chest with her hands. She managed to resist, though her trembling grew more pronounced.

  I wasn’t gentle with her tights. While she was mine, she would wear stockings, one more way of owning her, of marking her as my property.

  The tights were thin enough for me to tear from her body in a couple of fierce rips. That left only her shoes and her panties.

  The ragged ends of the tights were on the floor like a shadow still caught inside her shoes. I ignored them. I liked her looking as if she’d been ravished before I’d even begun.

  I knelt in front of her, running my fingers over her stomach, hooking into the waistband of her pure, virginal white panties. There was a damp spot between her legs, proof of how much she needed this. She needed to escape who she thought she was, become the real her, the submissive she was meant to be.

  I lowered her panties so slowly, she let out a moan of impatience. That sound made me even hungrier for her and only my self control kept my desire in check.

  I didn’t take her shoes off until she was laid on the bed. Only when the ropes were out of my case did I strip the last vestige of clothing from her. Apart from her necklace. I left that on. Somehow, she was more naked wearing that than nothing at all.

  I tied her to the bed, bound her in place on her front, ready for her punishment.

  That first spank echoed around my mind afterwards, that first connection between the two of us.

  Already her ass was turning red, the skin changing colour, proof of the power I had over her, the control I had, the fact that she was mine, branded as my personal property.

  I spanked her again, harder this time, loving the feel of her skin against my hand. She screamed louder.

  “Quiet!” I snapped. “Do you want to disturb the entire hotel?”

  I had no idea how soundproof the room was. We were at the far end of the corridor on the top floor but that didn’t make us invincible.

  Usually, I would do this at my house. It wasn't a common occurrence for me to take myself out of my comfort zone, spank someone for the first time in a hotel bedroom.

  Circumstances had brought us both here as they had brought us both together in the first place. Destiny had created this situation and destiny would decide if anyone heard, if anyone complained about the noise.

  Because she would soon make more noise. A lot more noise.

  I walked over to the case, leaving her panting for breath while I rummaged for what I needed.

  There it was. I picked it up. Solid steel, mushroom shaped, butt plug with jewel embedded in the flat base. The perfect shape and size for her.

  The jewel matched those in her necklace, deep burning red. Her ass cheeks would be that colour soon.

  I lubed the plug out of her sight. I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted her to understand that I was in charge of her pleasure, of her body, of her entire being.

  She had shouted at me in the past, in the world outside the hotel. She had snapped, she had thought I was afraid of her, that she was in charge. That I would do what she said because she acted dominant.

  She was about to see how far from the truth that was, how patiently I had waited for this moment, how things really were between us.

  I straddled her thighs, looking down at her ass. It needed the plug in it. If I didn’t put the plug in there, my cock would fill her instead and I had no intention of doing that yet. I had so much more to do first.

  I pressed the tip of the plug to the very top of her ass, letting her feel the cold metal, making her wonder what was about to happen.

  “What is that?” she asked, trying to shift to crane her neck to see what I was doing. “A gift,” I replied. “From me to you.”

  I slid the plug down, using my free hand to push her left buttock aside, reveal that tiny beautiful, oh so lickable, hole of hers. Puckered, so tight looking, so intensely sexy it made my cock throb with need.

  I pushed the tip towards her hole. “No,” she said. “Don’t.”

  “Too late,” I replied.

  I pressed forwards and she screamed again. Then destiny decided to get involved at the worst possible time.

  Knock, knock on the bedroom door.

  Her scream cut off in an instant. She wanted to be caught like this no more than I did. What if it was one of her employees? What then?

  I glanced over my shoulder. Another knock. I had my answer. The hotel rooms were not soundproofed enough.

  I looked at her ass, I looked at the plug in my hand. Then I looked at the door as the knocking grew more fierce. Whoever it was, they weren’t going away. All I could do was decide whether or not to answer. I had to decide fast. A key was turning in the lock.

  ONE - LUCY

  “I can’t believe I made you cry, I’m so sorry.”

  I was cringing hard enough to make my toes curl under me. Anna was opposite me, slumped in her chair, wiping the tears from her face.

  “I made a girl in a wheelchair cry. I’m such a bad person.”

  She shook her head, sniffing loudly as she looked up at me. Then in an instant, the tears stopped. She grinned.

  “You were acting?”

  Her grin broadened until it covered her entire face. “You can’t say sorry when someone cries, it’ll ruin the entire effect.”

  We’d spent the last hour at this and I was getting nowhere. “I just can’t do it,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t be mean to people.”

  “You have to,” she said, pointing a finger at me. “Now let’s go again and if I cry, don’t apologise. The top executive mega-bitch boss from hell never apologises. She gets shit done and that’s why she got this job. Remember why you’re doing this?”

  I knew she was right but that didn’t make it any easier. I just wasn’t a mean person.

  This new post was a big step up for me. I’d been hammering away at the glass ceiling ever since graduating, clawing my way slowly up the corporate ladder. It also meant enough money for our project to keep running. Meals for homeless families. The funding for our food club was drying up. Cutbacks everywhere. My increased salary meant we could potentially fund it ourselves. If I made a good impression. If I made the job work for me. This was my big chance and I had to get it right.

  Anna knew what she was talking about though. She’d had to develop a thick skin since being in a wheelchair. She could be cutting when she needed, angry if she had to get something done, making her position clear, leaving no dou
bt.

  I was too nice. I let people walk all over me. Yesterday, she had summed it up perfectly. “You would have had this job five years ago if you’d toughened up. Remember the Snuggly Rabbit when you were in kids books?”

  “Yes, I remember,” I replied, still pained by the memory.

  “Best kids book in five years and you had the idea snatched from you because you let them do it. All that work down the drain. Toughen up, kiddo or it’ll keep happening.”

  I tried, I really tried. I couldn’t let another Snuggly Rabbit happen. I had shared the concept for the book with my friends, shared the author name, then Remington Books went and signed him for a contract right under my nose. All thanks to me being too nice, thinking I could trust people. That cost me big. I left Kidtastic Publishing a month later ashamed of what I'd done.

  But that was then. I was an executive again. On a six month trial but still. Do well and the post was mine. Lose another book idea like Snuggly Rabbit to a rival publisher and I’d be back job searching once again.

  It would be different this time.

  I had a much better grasp of confidentiality, of keeping things under my hat, not sharing them with anyone apart from Anna, the only person in the world I knew I could trust.

  Somehow I got lucky with this post. I spotted the vacancy in the newspaper. I wasn’t going to apply but Anna made me. I told her I didn’t have a shot, I had nowhere near enough experience to run an entire office, not aged twenty-five. It would go to someone forty or fifty, someone with a life of experience in the publishing industry.

  But I got an interview. Somehow I got an interview. I had a fortnight’s notice for it and I spent the entire two weeks rehearsing answers with Anna’s help.

  On interview day, despite being on the verge of a panic attack the entire time, I did pretty well. Each question they asked was one Anna had trained me on, I did my best to remember what we'd rehearsed but I was sure I'd screwed up big time. They had told me as I was leaving that the CEO would make the final decision by the end of the day, all based on their recommendations. But I heard nothing.