Iron Dominance

by Cari Silverwood

  “Don’t worry, Claire.” Theo stood behind her, combed his hands through her hair then twisted it into a rope, and carefully tied it together at her nape. “I’ll take care of you.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” she murmured.

  He kissed her neck, then turned her to face one of the devices. All black, the device was some form of sawhorse, like one used in timber work, only padded on top, with rings attached here and there. Her mind raced ahead—rings for tying ropes to.

  “That?” she whispered and swallowed past the lump in her throat.

  “Yes. Give me your wrist.”

  Sometime while she’d been distracted—which meant as soon as she’d entered this room—he’d picked up a coil of rope.

  The thumping against her ribs would be her heart. She licked her lips and raised her right wrist. The loop of rope Theo placed around it was white as an angel’s wing. Pure and so not innocent. This whole place, every movement, every instruction Theo gave her, made her feel like she’d plugged into his galvanic machine. Thud, thud, went her heart.

  With a few deft finger movements, he wound it about her wrist, snugged it down firmly, and waited.

  She stared at the rope. Hung upon a revelation, an epiphany moment. This wasn’t just possible, just bearable—it excited her. Letting Theo take charge of her had always been the utmost thrill. This too. Rope no longer sank talons into her gut. Whatever he wanted, she could do.

  Oh, yes.

  “Good, sweetheart. Lie down.”

  She blinked at him, nodded.

  He guided her until she lay on her stomach across the length of the padding with her bottom in the air, sticking out past the end. Slowly, precisely, he wound rope about her limbs and body. She wriggled at times into the padding, until he pressed his hand to her back and made her stop.

  Her bent knees and her ankles and wrists were tied with enough rope to set a ship’s rigging. Her breasts were bound so firmly they felt round and filled with blood. Each heartbeat made them throb and made her so aware of them resting against either side of the padding.

  She couldn’t move a single inch, and it made her so hot, she bit back a groan when the ends of the flogger grazed her pussy.

  “I must admit,” Dankyo said, “you look far more interesting like this than when you’re glowering at me.”

  Dankyo? She’d been unaware who was back there. Did he have the flogger?

  “Why are you—” Then she noticed Theo lounging against the wall, watching, still in his coat and trousers. “Huh. Aren’t you stretching the limits of your duties a bit?”

  “Not really.”

  The fire-laden smack of the flogger’s tendrils on her bottom startled her. “Ah!”

  She strained at the ropes fastening her arms to the sawhorse, closed her eyes as they pulled taut…and held. Dankyo, of all people. She bit back a swear word she might have called him.

  Mortifying, yet, strangely, knowing Theo watched Dankyo smack her… She arched the tiniest bit, wriggling the inch or two her ass could move…and heat blossomed.

  No. She went still, made her breathing slow. This was awful. Dankyo would see, know she got off on this. Say something. Distraction needed here.

  “You’ve played us both, haven’t you? Arranged this. You wanted us together.”

  “Possibly.”

  “Why?”

  He bent down, squatting next to her head, then putting a hand up to hold her chin. “Maybe because I can see that in your own way, you’re good for him. That he does need you as much as you do him. Maybe because you’ve made me realize something about myself I’d never have known otherwise.”

  Unable to look away, she looked, really looked at him. A hint of a smile curved his lips. Oh. Frick.

  He stood and removed his coat, folded it, and put it on the floor. Next, while she watched, tongue-tied, he stripped off his shirt and placed it on top of the coat. His hairless torso gleamed. He flexed his shoulders, making slabs of muscle slide like earthquaked rock. The man could lift a landship.

  Claire swallowed, throat almost too dry to move. Her muscles were tiring with the effort of keeping her neck up so she could look Dankyo in the eye. But she didn’t want him to see her lower her head. That would be like giving in. And…she was lying here with her bottom out. She let out a long breath, cursing softly. Her head sagged an inch.

  He’d said he realized…something. “What have you realized?” But, in the blink of saying it, she knew. Lord, am I in trouble. Tied down, can’t move, and this rock of a man has a flogger.

  His eyes glinted. “That I like this.” He picked up the flogger from where he’d left it on the floor, gave it a twitch. “That I like this. Beating the backside of a stubborn, annoying, cantankerous woman. You have no idea how angry I’ve been with you.”

  “Angry?” Her voice squeaked.

  “Not now. Now I’m happy because I’ve been given permission to deliver your punishment.”

  All of it? She pulled on the ropes again. What was Theo thinking? “Maybe, uh, this is a bad idea?” She craned her neck to plead with Theo, but he shook his head, folded his arms.

  Dankyo came close, caressed her hair. “After this, perhaps I’ll see if Kirsten shares a common interest.”

  “I know she does,” she managed to croak out. “Why not practice on her first?”

  “Oh no. You’re first. Don’t worry. I’ve used a whip before and know what I’m doing. I won’t break your pretty skin, and I’m only going as far as the colonel’s approved.”

  He pushed her head down and stepped back where she couldn’t see. She shut her eyes. The blow fell. She jerked and clenched her teeth.

  “Count.”

  “One.” Or was it two? Oh frick. The pain flared and spread. She glared coldly at Theo. How could he give me to Dankyo?

  “Wait, Dankyo.” Theo walked over and put a hand to her shoulder. “Add one more for insolence.”

  “Yes, sir. With pleasure, sir.” He striped her across the right thigh, so close to her wet pussy.

  She hissed, tried hard not to spit out some nasty word. “Two!”

  “You can do this, Claire.” He looked her right in the eyes, massaged her shoulder, trailed his fingers across to and down her backbone. “Soon, it’ll be over.”

  She heaved in a breath and really looked at her man. Her Theo. Took a mental step back from the pain and thought for a moment.

  I do deserve this. “I know, sir. Without this, I’ll never feel right again…about us, about lying to you.” Another swat fired streamers of pain across her thigh. “Three.” She panted. “What happens, after?”

  He bent down and kissed her full on the lips, murmured sweetly into her mouth. “Then we do more pleasurable things. Does that appeal?” He kissed her again, lips moving slow and sure over hers. The pain in her butt swirled, mingled, and she parted her lips under Theo’s.

  His fingers found her nipple and circled it. Despite the pain throbbing through her bottom, her nipple spiked to a peak. Her slit moistened. Warmth traveled everywhere. She writhed, trembled, feeling every rope tying her down, the crisscrossing rigidity about ankle and wrist and breast.

  He was helping her through this, mitigating the pain with some pleasure.

  “Oh, yes. I’d like that, sir.” Her eyes half-closed at another light brush of his hand. This seemed wrong, yet so arousing, with Dankyo watching everything Theo did to her.

  “Yes?” Those evil fingers of his reached the crease between her buttocks. His fingers—how many she couldn’t tell, didn’t care—slid into both her holes. She jerked and gulped in air, clenching around his fingers, reveling in the sensation. “Yes, dear?”

  “Umm. This isn’t just…temporary, is it, sir? Before a good-bye?”

  He laughed. “No, it’s not temporary, though now I’ve decided to keep you…” His fingers slipped in farther and stopped. She squirmed. “I plan on doing some most devious things to this lovely body.”

  “Uhh. Good.”

  �
��Sir.”

  “Mmm, yes. Sir.” She swiveled her head, trying to look back at Dankyo, but only spotted his feet.

  Theo’s fingers moved again, sliding thick and slow. He swirled his other hand over her breast. The invasion of her pussy and anus, the tight swelling of her breasts made each touch and thrust echo the other until her back muscles strained to arch more, higher. That Dankyo saw this, she no longer cared. Yesss. What was I saying?

  Something puzzled her. Her words came out low and husky, though loud enough to carry. “Dankyo, if you wanted us together, why did you tell me you meant this to be a last good-bye?”

  The flogger licked gently across her thigh. “Because you didn’t deserve to have it too easy. But also because I knew it would make you fight all the more for it.”

  Uh. Well, she guessed the first part was fair. “But…what if I’d given up instead?”

  Theo leaned in, put his forehead to hers, and murmured, “He knows you, dear, as I do. I don’t think he ever thought you’d give up. You can’t imagine the smile on his face.”

  “What a bastard!” she whispered. Boy, am I going to find something bad to do to Dankyo. Maybe tie his shoelaces together before parade? Yes. For sure.

  “Yes, he is, isn’t he? But he’s mine, just like you are.” He kissed her again, gently. “If you call him that again, I will tell.”

  She wriggled back into his fingers to feel how they penetrated her. Deep. She sighed. “Sorry. And thank you, sir, for forgiving me.” Then she kissed him back, so thoroughly that nothing back there hurt at all.

  Theo removed his fingers and drew a squiggly line of wetness over her buttock and up her spine.

  Smack!

  “Ouch! Four!” Maybe I can put chili powder in Dankyo’s uniforms.

  Five more smacks of the flogger—enough to make her legs quiver and sweat pool in the small of her back—then Dankyo was done. Panting, she heard him walk away. Loop after loop Theo unraveled, releasing her from all the ropes except the ones around her chest.

  “Finished, dearest. Come here.” He helped her upright, steadying her when her legs shook. With her breasts still bound, the press of her rigid nipples onto his shirt made her squeak. He squeezed her bottom.

  “Ouch.” But it wasn’t all ouch. The way his hands massaged her ass was sending out all sorts of interesting signals. She squirmed against his coat and subtly shifted until her legs were either side of his trouser-clad thigh, so it pressed onto her mound just right.

  Theo chuckled and reached up to pull on her ponytail, so she couldn’t help but tilt her head back and meet his eyes. He wiggled her head a little side to side. “I see what you’re doing, Claire. My trousers are going to need cleaning.”

  Despite the chastisement in his words, embarrassment refused to surface. He didn’t mind at all. Neither did she. She’d do it again just so she could stare up into his gray eyes and hear the mellow timbre of his voice. The way he said Claire sank right into her and traveled to her heart. He hadn’t gotten her to say those three words, but she did love him.

  “Thank you, Theo.”

  “No more thanking. We’re done. Even.”

  Relief flooded her. For days she’d been existing with the weight of all her lies on her shoulders. Done. When he let go of her hair, she snuggled in right up next to his solid chest, pressed her nose into his shirt, and breathed, just breathed.

  “Thank you.” Oops. The words had come out so naturally, she’d not had time to stop them.

  “Claire.” Exasperation showed in his voice.

  Uh-oh. “Sorry.” She sucked her lower lip onto her teeth, didn’t dare blink. Maybe she could hide in his coat.

  “You know, I have an idea. Your little derriere looks so delightful all red like this.” He patted her ass lightly. “There’s a paddle on the wall over there that has a cogwheel shape cut into the middle. Since your bottom needs to be white to show it up, I’ll have to wait for the redness to go; then we’ll try it out.”

  Strangely, the idea excited her.

  Six months later

  Claire wandered through the shop. Hinchcliff and Co. never failed to surprise her with the variety of goods on display. Something new turned up every visit. This time, she kinked her neck back to see properly—it was an inflatable dirigible in the shape of a penis hanging from the ceiling. She shook her head and prayed Theo wasn’t planning on buying that.

  For months she’d been doing her job, off and on, as his bodyguard. Without a weapon belt, her waist felt wrong. No weight—it damn well imbalanced her. At least the pastel green dress had a quick-tearaway skirt, so if someone bad turned up, she could get her legs free for action real fast. Theo hadn’t said no to that. The lack of underwear he’d insisted on, though. She frowned, wondering what he planned, as she squeezed past the phallus of the knight on the way up the three steps to the next level. Someone had hung a key chain on the steel dick. She grinned. At least the knight was still here. Some things never changed.

  “Found you.” Theo gently settled his hand on the back of her neck. “Hands on the sofa, please, bottom up.”

  She almost turned to protest but didn’t. By now obedience to Theo’s orders was close to ingrained. Even if some of them were embarrassing, surprising…

  Like a match under a bonfire, excitement flickered. Gray-haired, distinguished, Mr. Hinchcliff, the proprietor of the shop, watched with arms folded, face impassive, as she leaned over the armrest of the maroon sofa and put her hands flat on the seat.

  Bottom up, he’d said. Striving to stop the blush rushing to her face, Claire tilted up her bottom. He was going to spank her; she just knew it. Why here? Why now? The back of her dress was flipped up, and air cooled her skin, slid like mist between her legs, where wetness already gathered.

  She shivered. Whatever his reason, she couldn’t help her reaction. Did he know how someone watching made everything so much more enthralling?

  “I have a paddle or two to test, Claire. Hold still.”

  Two jolting blows hit her ass—one each cheek, and she yelped at the second. Ow. The familiar heat suffused her lower body. She breathed fast for a while into the fabric under her mouth. It didn’t take long anymore for the pain to transform. Not when she recalled all those other times when he’d pushed his fingers into her, played with her…

  Six months—and every day of it, when they weren’t making love, they were still together. As his unofficial bodyguard and his consort, she was always by his side. Sometimes it seemed as if Theo had memorized every part of her, mind, body and soul, he knew her so well.

  “Turn your head and look, dear.”

  Through the tendrils of her hair that tumbled across her face, she looked back.

  The smug grin on Theo’s face was the first she saw, then the mirror he held, and what it reflected. Her bottom showed bright red around two backward words. On one cheek was Just on the other was Married.

  She gasped. “Theo!”

  “Well?” He lowered one hand, smoothed it forward over her bottom to the inward slope of her lower back. “What do you think?”

  “Um.” Confusion scattered her thoughts. He couldn’t mean…did he? “Of course it’s nice…Sir.”

  He smiled and knelt by her side, kissed her once, softly. “So, you like the idea of a wedding?”

  Oh, dear. Oh yes! A wedding! But… She screwed up her mouth, shifted her head closer to his, then tangled her fingers into his shirt cuff while he played with a lock of her hair. “Do I want to know when you plan to use those?”

  This time he licked the top of her nose. “Afterward, at the party when there’s only a few close friends left. I plan to bend you over a table.”

  The wet spot on her nose cooled. She smiled at his silliness.

  Uh. Not so bad…except for the public smacking part—one was okay, but a whole crowd? Then she noticed the delighted look on Mr. Hinchcliff’s face. Was it the smacking and her naked bottom he liked, or the prospect of a wedding? Maybe both?

  “Congratu
lations to Sir and Miss.” He dipped his head slightly.

  Ah. Well, he certainly didn’t mind the wedding. She swallowed past the big lump in the middle of her throat. “Thank you, Mr. Hinchcliff.” Tears overflowed and trickled from the corner of her eye. Theo, his face only inches away, raised his eyebrow. “It’s just the smack, really. It’s not… I’m okay. Thank you, sir.” If someone had checked her insides right then and there, she was sure they’d find her full of fluttering butterflies.

  Everywhere within her felt on edge and jittery and…just so fricking wonderful.

  “I know how to stop you crying.” He moved in and kissed her again, gentle at first, as if her lips were some fragile wondrous creation, then harder and more determined. Soon all she could hear was the gasp of their breathing and the rasp of his stubble on her skin and the sofa. All she could feel was his lips and tongue. All she could smell and taste was Theo. She screwed her fingers tighter into his sleeve. She was never ever letting him go.

  Loose Id Titles by Cari Silverwood

  Iron Dominance

  Three Days of Dominance

  Cari Silverwood

  Though I’d much rather stay invisible and spin you all tales with my words, here’s a little snippet of my world.

  I have a lovely family here in Australia, with the prerequisite teenager who dwells in the dark bedroom catacombs, a husband who raises eyebrows when he catches glimpses of what I write, and a furry menagerie of animals barking, meowing, and swimming about the place.

  Before writing Three Days of Dominance I had never dipped my little toes in the hot and lust-swirled sea of erotica. Now every time I turn around, there’s some new character making me write down their story in the most lurid way. My people are quite adamant about explaining creative new ways of making love, so I doubt I’ll run out of ideas anytime soon, though I may go cross-eyed.

  And, dammit, I can’t seem to stop reading other erotica authors either. I have come over to the dark side. Someone please find me a candle...and some rope. ’Cause if Darth Vader’s here, I’m going to see if he’s up for some bondage and wax play.