Rude Awakening

by Sam Crescent

  “Do you need a librarian here?” she asked.

  “I do own a library just off my study,” he said.

  The thought of him taking her and loving her while at work made her weak. “Sounds a tempting place…”

  “Not as tempting as what I’m going to do to you now.” His words were full of promise.

  “What are you going to do to me?” she asked.

  “Lie down.”

  Ruby studied him to try and see what he wanted to do. He smiled, reassuring her. She moved the vibrator out of her way and lay before the fire.

  “Wait,” she said and stood. She glanced down at him on his knees and stared into his eyes, the only light supplied by the fire.

  Taking the hem of her negligee, she tugged it over her head and let it fall to the floor. Then she drew down her sheer panties, naked before him. Another big step for her—not even covering her stomach, which Master used to complain was too podgy.

  Ruby took another long pull of air and lay in front of the fire, the glow making no mistake of her nudity.

  “You didn’t need to do that,” he said.

  She smiled. “I did. I wanted to. I told you, Harry—this person is who I am. No more hiding.”

  Never before had being naked been so liberating. She was a free woman and with Harry as a saviour she would give him everything, including her heart if he wanted it.

  “You give me a great honour.” He stood and followed her lead, removing his clothes and throwing them to join hers on the floor. He settled next to her.

  Ruby was touched by his consideration, him allowing her to have the full heat of the fire while he lay further from it.

  “I’m going to kiss you now, and love your body,” Harry said. “If at any time you feel uncomfortable I want you to use your safe word. Do you remember it?”

  “Butter.”

  “Good. You may open or close your eyes, whichever you wish. This night is for us to become acquainted with each other and then we’ll develop from there.”

  He leaned over and kissed her. Ruby was sure she was becoming addicted to his lips, the gentle pressure and the slide of his tongue moving over her mouth trying to get her to permit him entry.

  Didn’t he know she’d never deny him anything?

  Starting at her cheek, he caressed gently, moving the last strands of hair off her face, and trailed down to her neck, one finger gliding over her collarbone, then cupped her breast with his whole hand. He followed the path of his hand with his lips, circling the tight bud of her nipple with his tongue and sucking the hard mound in. Ruby cried out and arched into his touch, silently begging for more.

  His tongue should be put away. He was deadly and wreaking havoc on her body.

  Her legs shook, and she opened them wider to receive him. Harry settled between her legs, his mouth and tongue laving over the valley of her breasts, where he loved her other nipple with as much attention as the first. Nothing was painful, just sensation upon building sensation. Ruby alternated between watching him and stretching her head back every time his teeth nibbled along their sensitive route. He rained kisses over her ribcage and stomach, his tongue pressing into her belly button, making her giggle and gasp. Then he continued the journey with his lips, gliding them to her hips. He licked then laid soft kisses on the prominent bones.

  Was this what it was liked to be loved?

  His breath disturbed the light smattering of curls covering her mons. She loved them being stroked and touched, her hairs sparse, which she kept tidy rather than shave or wax off. She preferred to be feminine with her pubic hair. Being bare would make her feel too young.

  Harry moaned and ran a light hand over her pussy. She was sensitive and wet.

  “So pretty,” he whispered.

  He pulled her lips apart, and Ruby couldn’t watch anymore—she could only give herself up to feeling. Harry exposed her clit to his view. Would she be swollen and peeking out, or would it stay hidden so he’d have to find it?

  Harry licked a line from her clit to her entrance. Ruby whimpered, the contact gentle but evoking so much sensation she wasn’t sure she’d be able to bear it.

  “You come when I say,” he said.

  Ruby nodded. She wanted her pussy licked and she’d do anything he’d say to keep these emotions and sensations coming. Her pussy creamed. Her body craved the release it had long been denied. She’d take anything and everything he cared to offer.

  “Open your legs wider,” he commanded.

  She opened her legs as wide as they would go. Harry dipped his head to look at her pussy.

  “Does it look okay?” she asked, insecurity coming back.

  “You’re beautiful, Ruby, absolutely beautiful.”

  His lips showed her how much as he feasted on her.

  Ruby curled her fingers into the rug. His tongue circled her clit, teasing her until she was panting and crying out for more. He gathered her juice on his fingers and eased them inside her aching channel. Ruby cried out from the invasion, her pulse hammering, his fingers stretching her. Light flicks from his tongue up and down her slit had her climax building.

  She wouldn’t be able to stop it.

  She whimpered. It had been so long without an orgasm, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d come without his permission—her first with him—creating a possible a punishment she wasn’t ready to receive.

  “Come for me, Ruby.”

  His words were a blessing. Ruby finally let go and gave herself completely to this man. He touched and loved her, his fingers fucking her cunt, his tongue dancing over her clit. She couldn’t contain it any longer and screamed her completion within seconds, her eyes closed, the dance of orgasm lighting her way. She arched her back, muscles tense, the delightful, earth-shattering bliss consuming her.

  His hand to her stomach brought her down slowly. He licked her juice off his fingers and laid a kiss to her pussy. Ruby knew in her heart he would always own her no matter what happened from this day forward. Already in a few short hours he had shown her how a normal relationship could be, and for that she would be forever in his debt.

  Chapter Eight

  Resting beside Ruby, his hand draped over her stomach, Harry cursed himself. That wasn’t supposed to have happened. He’d lost all restraint when her mouth had surrounded his cock, forgotten how he’d told himself she was vulnerable and didn’t need a full-on sexual relationship right now. Her explanation of it only being her Master who scared her had mollified him somewhat, but goddamn it, that wasn’t the point.

  His plan to show her gently and slowly how to submit had gone wrong. He should never have allowed her to suck him, because that had meant he’d had to return the pleasure.

  Stop making excuses. You wanted to please her.

  He stared at the ceiling, orange and yellow reflections from the fire flickering there. Last time he’d peeked at her she’d had her eyes closed, her breathing returning to normal, and although he desperately wanted to glance at her now, he stopped himself. What if he saw regret on her face? What if he saw tears?

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Something happened there. I got carried away.”

  “I’m glad you did.” She shifted onto her side and snuggled closer, fingertips trailing circles in the small of his back. “I haven’t felt like that in years.”

  Had this Master denied her orgasms for that long? What kind of monster was he? It was clear Ruby wasn’t a refined lady, but hell, Harry found he liked that. Found he wanted her to stay with him and that realisation startled him. He was used to being in control at all times, but it seemed this little waif had the ability to make him weaken. Would that work within their D/s relationship? Could he teach her when she’d already burrowed right under his skin and made him have hope for a future with her?

  “It won’t happen again.” He continued staring at the ceiling, knowing he’d find a furrowed brow and downturned mouth if he looked at her now. It wasn’t that he wanted to hurt her. Quite the opposite. He wanted to keep her safe f
rom rushing into a new relationship when she still had issues from the last. Or could he heal her as he loved her? He wasn’t sure.

  “Why not?” she asked, voice small and barely there.

  “I…” He sighed. “I feel I took advantage of you, even though you wanted it.”

  “Fuck, yeah, I wanted it.” She propped herself up on one elbow. “And I want it again. More. Different things. I want you.”

  She didn’t sound needy or desperate. On the contrary, she was resolute, her words spoken by a woman who knew her own mind and feelings. Still, he wasn’t comfortable with having tasted her, having jumped a few levels of teaching to get straight down to the sexual pleasure side of it. He should have refused her request to swallow his cock.

  He turned his head and took in the sight of her. No frown. No downturned mouth. Instead, she gave him a smile, and her eyes were alight with life, something he would never have expected to see when she’d arrived. He remembered how those eyes had looked as she’d stared at the kitchen door, the fear swirling there, the deep crevice between her eyebrows. She had been frightened then, but now she was a different person. He’d like to think he had a hand in that, but maybe the knowledge that she was safe here was what had made the change in her.

  “This has all happened rather quickly,” he said, lifting a hand to stroke her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I’m concerned you’re not really ready for this, that I’ve crossed the line between teacher and student.”

  “But this kind of teacher-student relationship involves sex, so what’s the problem?” She raised her hand to grasp his wrist then planted a kiss on his palm. “I’m the happiest I’ve been in years, Harry. The safest. Do you realise how that makes me feel? Shit, I want to dance, to laugh until my ribs hurt, to run out there and shout at the sky that I’m free and everything’s fucking wonderful.”

  She got up and twirled in a circle, arms swinging, her features so relaxed she appeared young and carefree. The sight of her ribs sticking out and some old and recent scars marring her skin made him want to get up and take her in his arms, smooth the scars into non-existence and feed her until that bird-cage look to her torso disappeared.

  Time. He needed lots of it.

  She span, arms out at her sides. “Can you feel it, Harry? Feel how bloody wonderful everything is?”

  He sat up and watched her, and yes, he felt it. It oozed from her, infusing him, and a chuckle brewed in his chest. She laughed—eyes closed, hair swaying—and pranced about the room. Her mood was infectious, and he couldn’t resist rising. He went to her, stopping her dance to hold her close. She rested her cheek against his chest, and he weaved his fingers through her hair, grasping it tight in his fist. He tugged gently until she looked up at him.

  “Are you ready for what we originally set out to do?” He tightened his grip.

  “Yes.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose—couldn’t resist it—and released her hair at the same time as gently pushing her away.

  “Kneel in front of the settee,” he instructed. “Belly flat on the seat. Hold your hands at the bottom of your back and wait for me to return.”

  She nodded, and rather than admonish her for not saying ‘Yes, Sir,’ he walked into the hallway then pounded the stairs to reach his bedroom. There, he opened a large wooden chest at the foot of his bed and selected a small paddle. Oh, he knew she hadn’t liked them before, but he had to show her how it should be used. After selecting a bottle of massage oil, he went downstairs and stood in the living room doorway.

  She looked beautiful in the pose he’d directed, her buttocks rounded and slightly spread, her fingers entwined. She faced away from him, and her hair spilled across her back and draped over her shoulders, some ends resting on the leather. He frowned at the faint stripes on her back—administered with a cruel whip, he had no doubt—and sighed inwardly at the abuse she’d suffered. Why had her Master been so cruel? From what he could tell, Ruby was an exceptional, lovely woman who inspired nothing in him but the need to care for her. The previous man in her life had been a fool, controlling her so much he’d snuffed out the magical essence that was Ruby—the one thing that made her so delightful to Harry.

  He held the paddle behind his back and walked towards her. She didn’t tense—something he’d expected to be a habit—and he was inordinately pleased about that. She trusted him already, that much was clear, and the niggling doubt came again that perhaps she trusted him too much.

  It wouldn’t just hurt him when he set her free.

  “Shift your feet together,” he said, then knelt, one knee either side of her calves.

  He placed the paddle on the floor and tapped the handle so the toy was out of sight beneath the sofa. Opening the massage oil, he poured some into his cupped hand, stood the bottle on the floor, then spread the fluid over his palms to warm it.

  “Keep your safe word in mind. We’ll be testing your pain levels and what you find acceptable. You must not take more pain than you can handle. I want you to be honest and let me know when it’s no longer giving you pleasure. You’ll please me by doing this. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, eyes closed, and a lock of hair fell to cover them.

  “I’m going to begin.”

  He waited for her to tense, for her muscles to bunch in her anticipation of him striking her, but she remained plaint, comfortable.

  Good.

  Scooting back to give himself more room, Harry pressed his hands to her ass cheeks. She didn’t flinch, so he smoothed the skin, wanting to ready it for the paddle. He spent some time caressing, then slid his hands between her arse cleft, instantly admonishing himself for it. But that dark, shadowy crack lured him, held so much promise that he was unable to hold back. Going against his rules, he moved one hand lower and cupped her mound, the heat from her slit warming his palm. If he just inched his hand a little further back, he’d touch her clit…

  No. Stop it.

  She whimpered and he withdrew, once again massaging her arse.

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Put your hand back there. Please. Sir…”

  “No.”

  Control surged inside him, and he reached down for the paddle. Moving so he knelt to one side of her legs, he judged the amount of swing room he had. Not much, but he didn’t need it. Short, sharp smacks were what he was after. He raised the paddle and brought it down slowly, connecting with her right buttock with hardly any force. She jerked but still appeared relaxed, and he guessed her soft gasp was more from not expecting the strike than any pain. From what she’d told him, she was used to so much worse.

  He hit her again, harder this time, and waited for a negative reaction. None came, so he created a pattern of striking, each one harder than the last. At the point he thought she’d buckle, when the hit made her ass bloom red, she jutted her bottom out for more. He obliged, giving her three whacks in quick succession, pleased to hear another whimper coming from beneath that curtain of hair. Spurred on, he smacked some more, his cock stiffening as he took in the sight of her arse cheeks burning. She had to be on the border between pleasure and pain now, so the final hits should tell him her threshold.

  After three harder connections, she unclasped her hands and held one up.

  “Have you had enough?” he asked. “If so, use your safe word.”

  “No, Sir, I…I just need a minute.”

  He’d found her level, where she was starting to feel uncomfortable, and he wasn’t happy at continuing. He knew she’d have mastered the art of switching her mind off, and he’d be damned if he’d allow that to happen with him.

  “Be honest,” he said. “I’ll be disappointed if you’re not. I’ll ask you again. Have you had enough?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

  “Good girl. Now, what do you think I used on you?”

  She lowered her hand to the settee and fiddled with her hair. “A bit of wood? Like a thin plank? It felt wooden anyway.”

  “Get up and look at me.”


  She pushed off the seat and turned her face towards him. He held up the paddle, and she widened her eyes, one hand rising to cover her mouth.

  “You used that?” she asked, her voice muffled.

  “I did. And it wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  She shook her head, staring at the paddle with confusion in her eyes.

  “It isn’t the implement that is wrong but how it’s used,” he said, keeping his tone low. “I can guarantee that any toy used by me in our play will not hurt anywhere near how it did with your previous Master. Do you trust me to use a whip next time?”

  She nodded again, although a snippet of fear lingered on her face.

  “I promise I won’t ever go beyond your comfort level, Ruby.”

  “Okay.”

  She lowered her hand, a picture of vulnerability before him—her hair tousled, her generous breasts lifting and falling with each breath she took. He couldn’t deny her reassurance and reached out, nestling her body against his.

  “It’ll all work out,” he murmured into her hair. “I’ll fix you, then you can go out there knowing what’s acceptable and what isn’t. No one will ever hurt you again because you’ll understand who is a genuine Dom and who is in it for cruelty.”

  I don’t want you to go out there and find someone else…

  “How long will it take, Harry? Your lessons, I mean.”

  “A couple of weeks, perhaps a bit longer. It depends how we get on.”

  “Then I’ll hope for two weeks or more,” she whispered. “I like it here. Like you.” She raised her head and looked at him. “You saved me, d’you know that?”

  Embarrassed under such sincere scrutiny, he blushed and cupped her cheek. “I rather think you saved me.”

  “What d’you mean?”

  He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything. Now, I think it’s time we washed off that massage oil and I applied some salve. I wouldn’t want you getting sore.”

  “Salve? Is that what you’re meant to do?” She frowned.