“You’re acting like it’s our house. I can’t live in my apartment right now, but it’s still my home. I appreciate you letting me stay here, and I love that you’re asking for my input, but…”
He sighed. “Okay, I get it. Everything’s moving fast. Still, I think we both know that if we work out, you’ll be living here eventually.”
I was trying to figure out how to respond when my phone rang. I looked to see who was calling, though I intended to send the call to voice mail. However, when I saw it was my dad, I answered. Sending him to voice mail might mean I’d see him in a few hours.
“Dad. Is everything okay?”
“You tell me. I had to hear through the gossip mill that you’re wolf now.”
“I was waiting until I have a little more control before I called.”
“I called Randall before I called you. He says your control is exemplary for such a new wolf.”
“They don’t want me in public by myself, yet. I’m still a work in progress.”
“Your mother wants to see you. If you can’t come to us, we’ll come to you.”
Patrick took the phone out of my hand as he asked what my father’s name was.
“Mike.”
He nodded and put the phone to his ear. “Mike, this is Patrick. Briana’s staying with me for the time being. I’ll invite you and your family to my home the weekend after the next full moon. I have three guest bedrooms, and space downstairs I intend to eventually turn into a communal sleeping room, but we can make do with pallets on the floor down there for now if you bring more than we can fit in the three guest bedrooms. If you insist on seeing her before the full moon, you’ll need to make arrangements with Randall, and I’ll bring her to you there for a few hours. I’m afraid we already have full moon plans. If you want to run with her, it’s going to be three to five months before we can make it happen.”
“Is she okay with you speaking for her?”
He looked to me, his brows lifted in question.
I considered it only a few seconds before saying, “Yes. In this, he can speak for me.”
My dad was silent a handful of seconds before he finally said, “Her mother wants to see her. We’ll work out a time with Randall, and the two of us will come for a short visit in the next day or two. We’ll take you up on the weekend visit after the full moon though, and we’ll bring the whole family.”
“I think it’ll do her good to see the two of you for a short visit now, and I know it’ll do her good to spend time with all of you once we get her through the next full moon. Thanks so much for calling. I’ll hand the phone back to her now, and I’d like you to put your wife on, so the two of them can speak, please.”
* * *
Patrick
I paid attention to Briana’s energy for a moment while she talked to her mom. She was nervous and sad, but with undercurrents of relief and a touch of happy. I kissed the top of her head and went into the backyard to give her some privacy. Briana was on the way to healing her relationship with Randall, and now she needed to deal with her family. I could support her, and mediate how and when the interactions happened, but then I’d have to step back and let them do the work.
I’ve listened in on hours and hours of therapy sessions when I’ve been in charge of Kirsten’s safety, and I’ve learned she mostly just asks questions so her patients can come up with their own answers. She helps guide them, but they have to figure out what to do. Thinking back to the Alpha who’d presided over my childhood, he also asked a whole lot of questions — though he wasn’t afraid to just tell people how it was going to be, when it was called for.
I walked the perimeter of my yard, smelling for anything that didn’t belong as I looked to see if anything was out of place. I smelled a raccoon’s scent and followed it to the remains of a bird egg. I sniffed and zeroed in on a nest above, and hoped the mother bird had fixed her nest so she didn’t lose more eggs.
When I reached the backyard again, Briana was on the deck, sitting on the steps staring at nothing. She was all out of sorts, her emotions all over the place, but she was maintaining okay as a human.
“Did you have a good talk with your mom?”
She looked at me, but it took a few seconds for her eyes to focus. Finally, she nodded. “Yeah. I wanted a little more time before I saw them, but I think you’re right about a short visit now.”
I grinned. “Of course I’m right. I also think you need me to get your mind off everything worrying you. You have an idea of what I’m going to expect out of you sexually. Are you up for a training session?”
The spicy/sweet scent of her arousal wafted towards me as she gave me a shy smile. “Yeah, I think I might be.”
I wasn’t sure what was up with the hint of shyness until she went to her knees and looked at my feet as she said, “I’m ready to become your wolf. We both know it’s too soon, but we both know it’s going to happen, so it may as well happen now. Everything will be easier once I’m Pack. It’ll be different, and harder in some ways…” She shook her head, looked up, met my gaze, and looked back at my feet. “Can I ask you to do the ceremony during our scene? While I’m feeling submissive?”
We’ve had sex in wolf form, and anal sex in human form, but I still hadn’t fucked her properly. Did she know I was waiting to claim her? Waiting until she was mine in body and soul?
“I won’t make any promises. If it doesn’t feel right to do it tonight, I’ll hold off and we’ll talk about it either later tonight, or tomorrow morning. If it feels right to do it tonight, I will.”
I looked around the yard and made a quick decision. If we were going to oath, it needed to be outside.
“Strip, and go hang from the chin-up bar in the back corner of the yard. Hold it with your hands, body straight down — you’ll probably have to arch your spine a little to get it right. Tonight we’ll test your willingness to submit, and your self-control.”
I went in to turn off the cameras to the backyard, and I gathered a canvas tarp and some blankets to put on top of it. Also, nipple clamps, butt plugs, a few floggers and whips, a paddle, and lube. I reached for a gag, but didn’t pick it up. Experienced submissive shapeshifters at my house get their tongue pierced and/or sewn to their bottom lip to keep them from talking if they speak without permission. I wasn’t ready to be quite so draconian with Briana, but she needed more than a gag if she spoke — and I had a feeling she’d test me on the speech restrictions tonight. I opened another drawer and retrieved disposable chopsticks still in the paper wrapper. I gathered a few rubber bands from another drawer, and looked around the room to see if I needed anything else.
I keep an empty fishing tackle box downstairs specifically for when I need to carry my toys somewhere else, and I put all of the small items into the tray on top, and slid the smaller floggers and whips into the bottom. I was stuck carrying the paddle, two floggers, and one whip.
Chapter 26
Briana
I expected to get eaten alive by mosquitoes, but after several long minutes of hanging from the bar, I was fine. I took a deep breath and smelled cedar, lemon, and rosemary. Of course Patrick had figured out how to keep them away.
I hung from the bar for perhaps five or ten minutes before Patrick returned. He didn’t even glance my way as he spread a tarp on the ground, and then several blankets on the tarp.
When he finally came to me, he had a flogger in one hand and a cruel looking whip in the other.
“You don’t have permission to speak, or to scream. You may moan softly, and if there are tears then you have permission to make soft crying noises. Consequences for demerits will be given when you reach seven, and you won’t know what’ll happen until I begin. If you speak, however, consequences will be swift.” He looked around. “The neighbors can’t see, and can’t hear us when we speak, but there’s a chance they’ll hear if you’re too loud.”
I nodded, but kept my eyes focused below his face. He hadn’t told me not to make eye contact, but my wolf didn’t w
ant me to, so I didn’t.
My hands would’ve been cramping and hurting by now if I was still human, but I was fine. Not terribly comfortable, but not in pain.
“There’ll be times I’ll want to play with you for days at a time without letting you change. Playing with already-sore nipples can be loads of fun. Or fucking you dozens of times a day until you’re so sore you beg for relief.” He stood in front of me with a flogger. “I’m starting on a blank canvas tonight, though.”
Without warning, he flicked his arm and pain blossomed and spiked in my left nipple, then immediately my right. I gasped, but it wasn’t a scream and I hoped it was okay.
He hit my left nipple five times, then my right. The tips of the flogger kissed the nipple but not the breast, and in no time at all my nipples were on fire. He let me catch my breath before hitting the left ten times, then the right. I didn’t mean to pull myself up, but my arms bent, my spine bent forward, and I went higher as he struck the right nipple over and over. I heard him counting, but the reason didn’t register until he hit three. I dropped back down so my arms were straight, and realized he’d just moved the flogger up as I’d lifted myself, so the three demerits hadn’t given me any relief.
He went up in increments of five until he hit thirty. I’m not sure how I managed to stay in place, but somehow I found the willpower to hang from the bar and let him whip my nipples. Over and over, and then over again. And again. It felt as if he’d whipped the skin off. My nipples had to be at least three hundred degrees. They throbbed when they weren’t being hit, but so did my clit.
When he’d first started, I closed my eyes while he was flogging me, but then opened them when he stopped. I guess maybe I wanted to know when he started again. At some point I’d just kept my eyes closed. I could hear the flogger moving through the air before it struck me, but it was more than that. I was resigned to Patrick doing whatever he wanted to me. I had no control. Opening my eyes had been a way to try to claim some kind of pretend control, so I stopped.
I hadn’t counted on him doing anything different, though, so I yelped and then moaned as his mouth closed around my right nipple and his tongue licked and circled. I was ready for it when he moved to the other nipple, and when he came off, I opened my eyes and met his gaze.
He’d told me I’d know when eye contact was okay, and he’d been right. My gaze conveyed my feelings of submission. It was me surrendering to his will, and his soft smile told me he understood.
“I’m pleased, pet.”
This time, the nickname slid into place. He’d used ‘pet’ once before and it hadn’t felt right. Now? It defined me. It defined us. It shouldn’t have — most people don’t beat their pets. Then again, most pets don’t want to be beaten.
He walked to the blankets, put the flogger down, and came back with a whip.
“I won’t often tell you what to expect, but you’re new to this and I’m about to ask more of you than you’ll think you can take. You’ll receive three on each nipple, back and forth, for a total of thirty combined. Fifteen on each. As before, if you move out of position I’ll count one demerit every two seconds, so get back into position as quickly as possible.”
* * *
Patrick
Her arousal, fear, and adrenaline were all working together beautifully. I had no doubt we were going to hit seven demerits with this part of the exercise, but then — I’d assumed she’d have chopsticks on her tongue by now, as well.
I turned to the side and gave a few practice throws at some leaves, and smelled her fear and anticipation grow in equal amounts as I struck individual leaves.
When I finally turned to her and let it fly, my cock throbbed in my pants at the impact, at her pain, her sharp intake of breath, and then again as she said, “Fuck!”
I smelled her fear as I went to the tackle box to retrieve the chopsticks. She didn’t know what I was getting, but she had to know it wasn’t going to be pleasant. If there had only been fear, I’d have reassured her. However, I smelled enough anticipation and arousal, I knew it was all still working for her.
It sure as hell worked for me. I couldn’t wait to sink into her later.
Several minutes later, her tongue was sticking several inches out of her mouth, squeezed and held by the cruel wooden sticks, clasped together on one side by the original wood, and on the other by several rubber bands.
Two more strikes to her left nipple, and I moved to her right. One strike, and she let go and dropped to the ground. I only reached five before she was back up, but four strikes later she let go with one arm and twisted sideways. I’d already let the whip fly, so she took it in the side, at her rib cage, and screamed as she dropped to the ground.
“We’ll just call that an even seven.” I pulled a rubber band from my pocket as I walked her to the blanket and situated her on her back.
“Spread your legs as wide as you can, reach down, and pull your pussy lips apart.”
She did as I said, and then gasped as she saw me aiming the rubber band at her clit. Her mouth formed the word, “No,” as best she could around the chopsticks, but she didn’t try to vocalize it. Still, I couldn’t let it go.
“No speaking, no words. That’ll be eight instead of seven.” I held eye contact a few seconds before I patted her leg. “I know you’re scared. We both know it’ll hurt. Submit to it for me. Show me you’re learning the lesson. Keep your hands in place, keep your clit bared for me.”
She pulled the lips a little farther apart, and up.
I nodded. “That’s it.”
* * *
Briana
I was openly crying when he popped my clit for the eighth time. It hurt more than I imagined possible the first time, then even worse the second. I think it was a little numb for the fifth strike, but then the pain had returned tenfold by the seventh, and I’d choked on my tears and snot after the eighth.
He held me in his arms a few seconds, rubbing and caressing my back and arms as I shook from the sensory overload.
And yet, I felt closer to him in that moment — while he held and soothed me — than I’ve ever felt to anyone. We breathed the same air, in the same rhythm. Our heartbeats pulsed in the same cadence, and his wolf calmed my wolf as his arms embraced and comforted the human me.
I’d calmed down by the time he stood with me, but when I realized he was holding me so I could grab the pull-up bar again, the tears began to flow at just the thoughts of having to take more strikes from the whip on my nipples.
“I know it’s a lot, pet. Tell me the magic word and everything stops. I hope you’ll want to follow through and finish, but if you can’t take it, let me know.”
I reached for the bar, got a good grip, and he slowly let me go until I hung from it once more. I wanted to please him. I wanted to be whatever he needed me to be.
He kissed my forehead, caressed my cheek, and took up his position once more.
My left nipple was bleeding by the time he finished, but he didn’t seem to care if my blood got on him as he carried me back to the other side of the yard. I’d managed to make it through the rest with only two demerits, but this time he said consequences would be about time and not number of strikes. He put me down in the grass and made me walk over rough gravel to the center of a planting area, and told me to hold my arms out to the side, palms up. He put a heavy rock — about forty pounds each — in both hands, and set his timer for two minutes.
The gravel poked into the bottom of my feet, and my arm muscles quickly grew fatigued with the weight bearing down on the odd angle he’d put my arms. When my hands started going down, he said, “That’s another fifteen seconds. Drop them completely and your time starts over.”
As much as I wanted him to forget the two demerits, and as much as I hated those two minutes of torture, I’ll be eternally grateful to him for following through. It set the tone for who we were, who we are, and for the fact he’ll never lie to me. If he tells me there’ll be consequences, I can take it to the bank. If he tells m
e he’ll always protect me, respect me, love me… I can take those things to the bank, too.
He didn’t make me walk off the graveled area when my time was up — he lifted me and carried me like a baby.
“You’ve done so well, pet. I’m so proud of you, and so happy with your self-control.” He gently put me on the blankets before finally taking the chopsticks off my tongue. “You still can’t talk, but I think you’ve learned the lesson.”
I nodded as he got them off and I could finally pull my tongue back in my mouth. Having it out was painful, but also more than a little humiliating. Of course, I’d liked it when Bud humiliated me in front of the other bikers, so I hadn’t totally hated the way I’d felt every time Patrick looked at me, every time I tried to pull my tongue in.
I’d been naughty. I’d misbehaved, and I was punished.
I groaned as Patrick kissed his way down my body and licked all around my supersensitive clit. Fuck, he’d hurt it so bad, and it felt as if it were ten times its normal size.
It was hot, and swollen, and it hurt, but… it also felt good, in a warped sort of way. He licked all around it, then moved down, and it was all I could do to keep from talking. My tongue still hurt, and was dry, so I remembered to keep from forming words, but I sure moaned a whole helluva lot.
I was just beginning to panic that I might not be able to keep from screaming, “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” during orgasm, when he lifted his head, stood over me, and finally took his clothes off.
He stood over me, naked, looking down, and his voice was somber as he said, “Speech restrictions are lifted. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Sir.”
I’m not sure why I added the Sir. He hadn’t told me to, but it felt as if I should say something to show respect. The whole sentence came out warped because my tongue didn’t want to work right, but he understood me just fine. His smile told me he liked the addition, and he went to his knees, but I was surprised he was over my torso instead of between my legs.
Careful What You Ask For Page 17
