Subspace

by Sierra Cartwright

  The thought of it tipped her over the edge, almost too quickly. Rod crowed in triumph about bringing her to orgasm inside a minute and the audience whooped and cheered. The hypothesis was proven.

  She was made to stay there, panting and prickly with heat, while Rod pontificated about nerve endings, endorphins and the cerebral cortex for what seemed like hours.

  At the end of the speech, he ordered to her to stand and face the crowd to thank them for watching her demonstration. This was the hardest part of all—the humiliation of the public spanking and orgasm seemed secondary to the humiliation of speaking to her audience somehow.

  She shut her eyes for a moment, gathered her courage, then stared glassily ahead, reeling off the words she had practiced.

  “Thank you all for honouring my submission with your attention. I hope you enjoyed the lecture and will come back to watch me getting spanked again.”

  General laughter greeted this, underneath which a few ragged ‘You bet’ comments could be heard.

  Taking Ailish’s hand, Rod led her from the lecture room, back upstairs to the main cafe/ballroom. He found a quiet corner and stroked her hand, gazing down at her with a solemn air.

  “You were wonderful,” he said, pressing her fingers. “Everything I hoped you would be. What did you think?”

  “It was amazing. Not what I expected either. I thought I’d be completely aware of the pain and submission all the way through, but there was this point that was…things changed. It felt a bit like flying or falling.”

  Rod smiled and kissed her forehead. “Sounds like subspace. You’ve never been there before?”

  “I’m still there now. Why does it happen?”

  “Ah, you weren’t listening to my talk, were you? I touched on that.”

  “We’ll have to do it all over again, with me listening next time.”

  “Good idea. In the meantime…”

  He reached into an inside pocket and brought out a slim thong of black leather, fastened at the front with a silver knot. With ceremonious care, he placed it around Ailish’s neck while her pulse jumped and her limbs trembled.

  “So this is it now?” she whispered. “You’ve collared me?”

  “Yes. You are mine, properly. You can’t take it off unless you decide to end the arrangement. I’m so proud of you tonight.”

  “I’m so…proud of myself,” she said, fingering the leather. “And so happy. I feel I could do anything.”

  “Well, whatever you decide to do, let me know, and I’ll join in.”

  * * * *

  “Let’s join forces tonight,” suggested Rod.

  The girls looked around at each other. Were they prepared to let The Scientist join their group?

  “With you and Ailish on our side, we can’t lose,” decreed Jax. “Pull up a chair.”

  Rod set down his drink on a spare coaster and took his place beside Ailish.

  “So…are you two seeing each other…seriously…then?” asked Karen, feigning idle curiosity.

  “I’d say so,” said Rod. “What about you, Ail?”

  “Yes,” said Ailish without hesitation. Unconsciously, she let her fingers close around her collar, twisting the leather.

  “What’s that?” asked Jax. “It’s nice. Is it new?”

  “Rod gave it to me.” Ailish dropped the collar as if it had turned radioactive and wrapped her fingers around the stem of her wineglass instead.

  “Oh yeah? What is it? A necklace or, like, a choker?”

  Jax reached out, stroking the soft strands, holding the silver knot in her palm.

  “Actually,” said Rod, “it’s a collar.”

  A stunned silence enveloped the table, broken only by the barman rattling his tankard of loose change for the entry fee.

  Rod dropped in a pound coin, smiling faintly at the reaction he had provoked.

  Karen spoke first. “I’ve never seen a dog wearing something like that.”

  “Well, Ailish isn’t a dog, is she?”

  “What is she then…like, your slave or something?” Jax frowned, her furrowed brow working overtime.

  “Or something,” said Ailish, putting a hand on Rod’s arm as if for support.

  Mild awkwardness hung in the air until Jax, in the brisk tone of somebody calling a meeting to order, said, “Each to their own. Have you got an answer sheet yet?”

  Under the table, Ailish shuffled her foot next to Rod’s, pushing at the shoe leather with glee. They were ‘out’ and proud.

  “Let’s hope there’s a few questions about whips and chains,” said Jax, grinning slyly as she wrote their team name on the paper. “I bet Rod knows all about those.”

  “I do,” he said.

  About the Author

  Justine Elyot is a UK based writer of erotic romance and erotica. Her work has appeared in numerous anthologies from Black Lace, Cleis Press, Xcite and Constable & Robinson. Her first full-length book, On Demand, was published by Black Lace in 2009.

  Email: justineelyot@gmail.com

  Justine loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

  Also by Justine Elyot

  Competitive Nature

  Honeytrapped

  Master Me: A Very Personal Trainer

  Seeing Stars: The Sevarian Way

  Mi Amore: Sempre

  Bollywood: Bollywood Superstar

  AWAY FROM IT ALL

  Elizabeth Coldwell

  Dedication

  For Lord T

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Pinewood Studios: Pinewood Shepperton plc

  iPod: Apple, Inc.

  Chapter One

  “So, is your husband treating you to this getaway?”

  Staring out of the taxi’s window at the rapidly receding outskirts of Lincoln, it took Alyssa a moment to realise the driver was speaking to her.

  “Only you’re my second fare out to Thornton Hall this afternoon. The first was another single lady, just like you, and she was telling me her husband’s paying for her to have a week in the spa out of his annual bonus. Deluxe suite, all the trimmings. Nice work if you can get it, eh? So I just wondered…”

  “No, this is my treat to me.” Alyssa’s tone wasn’t curt enough to be rude, but she hoped she’d given the driver enough of a hint that she didn’t want to discuss the subject further.

  Not that she’d planned to visit the spa on her own. Originally, the intention had been to take a break with Kay, her oldest and best friend.

  “We deserve this,” Kay had said, as she’d flipped through the Thornton Hall brochure, with its pictures of serene women in white towelling robes lounging around the pool, or having hot stones applied to their back in one of the many treatment rooms. “I mean, you worked so hard for that promotion. It totally should’ve been yours. And what happens?”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  After assuring Alyssa he’d recommend her for the position as head of public relations, her boss sat back and watched while the role went to her assistant, Ryan. Brash, over-confident Ryan, who only seemed to have been with the company five minutes, but knew all the right things to say—and all the right backsides to kiss. Whereas she’d kept her head down and relied on the quality of her work to speak for her, always playing strictly by the rules. And where had that got her?

  “What you need is some me time, Alyssa, away from the office politics, all that bitching and backstabbing.” Kay had pushed the brochure under Alyssa’s nose, pointing out the spa’s newly-opened candlelit pool. “How nice does that look?”

  “Very.”

  It took no effort to imagine herself relaxing in that pool, basking in the idyllic atmosphere created by those flickering candle flames. No cares, no worries, her only pressing decision being whether to spend time in the steam room or the hot tub bef
ore dinner. Kay was right. It was what she needed. A few days of being pampered and indulged, and the opportunity to lick her wounds out of sight of the office gossips. Already, she was sure, the fact she’d been overlooked for promotion was being discussed round the water cooler. Why not go somewhere she couldn’t be affected by any of the pitying glances, or have to put on a smiling face for the benefit of people she really couldn’t stand?

  “So should I book us in?” Without waiting for an answer, Kay had already been reaching for her phone.

  Alyssa had grinned at her friend’s eagerness. “Go ahead. If nothing else, it’ll give me an excuse to buy the swimsuit I saw in that Sunday supplement. You know, the black one with the cut-outs?”

  “Oh, yes. Very sexy.” Kay had giggled. “Perfect for luring some hot guy into a no-strings hook-up in the hot tub. Or maybe we’ll get lucky, find a masseur who likes to leave his clients with a happy ending…”

  It had been typical of Kay to bring sex into the equation.

  “No, definitely not. Meeting a man would only complicate things, believe me.”

  Despite her insistence, Alyssa hadn’t been able to stop her thoughts drifting to a scenario where she lay on a massage table, naked but for a fluffy white towel covering the area between the small of her back and the tops of her thighs. A haunting panpipe tune played softly in the white-painted treatment room, and the scent of jasmine lingered on the air. She couldn’t see the face of her masseur, but that wasn’t unusual. In her horniest fantasies, the identity of the man pleasuring her wasn’t important. All that mattered was the feel of his hands, his mouth, his cock…

  The masseur’s talented fingers pummelled the knots in her back, kneading them into submission, before he turned his attention to her legs. Slowly moving up her calves, her thighs, burrowing under the towel, his relentless touch came ever closer to her pussy. He never spoke a word, but Alyssa’s soft sighs and involuntary groans of pleasure told him his advances were more than welcome. Making no attempt to stop him, needing to feel him working on her most intimate places, Alyssa spread her legs, offering him easy access to her wet, wanting core. As she pictured his oily middle finger rubbing her clit in tight circles, making her writhe in orgasm on his table, it took a real effort to drag herself back to the moment.

  “Sorted,” Kay had said. “I’ve gone for the three-night Perfect Indulgence package. It sounded perfect for us.” If she’d noticed Alyssa’s mind had been elsewhere while she’d been making arrangements with the spa’s booking clerk, she didn’t say anything. “We’ll be sharing what they call an exclusive room, and we get a load of treatments thrown in. There’s a facial, a body massage and something called a Dead Sea Ritual mud wrap. Oh, Alyssa, it’s going to be brilliant.”

  Alyssa couldn’t help but agree, beginning to look forward with growing anticipation to her spa break as the days passed.

  The morning before they were due to travel, Kay had rung her. Almost before they’d exchanged greetings, Alyssa knew she was calling with bad news.

  “You’re not going to believe this, Alyssa. I’ve come down with shingles.”

  “Oh, Kay, that’s terrible. How are you feeling?”

  “I never knew an itch could be so painful.” Kay sighed.

  Alyssa swore she could hear her scratching over the phone line. “I can’t believe it. I always thought because I’d had chicken pox as a kid I couldn’t catch it again, but obviously not.”

  “Well, we can’t go away now. Not if you’re so ill. I’ll ring Thornton Hall, see if we can postpone our stay ‘til you’re feeling better. We’ll probably lose the deposit, but there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Alyssa. Just because I can’t go doesn’t mean you can’t, either. Of course, I’ll be jealous as hell knowing you’re having a good time, but like I said, you need this. Let me ring them. I’ll sort it out, I promise.”

  Now Alyssa saw the iron gates marking the boundary of the Thornton Hall estate come into view, and realised she was almost at her destination. It was hard not to feel guilty, with Kay stuck at home and dabbing calamine lotion on her body to ease the maddening itching, but her friend had been adamant that she go without her.

  “Here we are.” The driver’s voice cut into Alyssa’s musings.

  “Thank you.”

  Alyssa climbed out of the taxi and waited as the driver hefted her blue floral wheeled bag out of the boot. Thornton Hall had an arrangement with a local cab firm who offered a discount rate to spa clients, and the cost of her journey had already been added to her final bill, but she hunted money out of her purse to give the man a tip. She owed him that much for respecting her wish to pass the journey in silence, if nothing else.

  “Enjoy your stay,” he said.

  “Oh, I will,” she replied, as much to herself as him. She watched him drive away. Then, extending the handle of the wheeled bag so she could guide it up the little ramp leading to the Hall’s main entrance, Alyssa took a moment to admire her surroundings.

  Built in the seventeenth century, Thornton Hall had retained its impressive sandstone façade, and had turreted towers and thick ivy growing around the front door. The building had been substantially converted in the three decades since it first opened as a health spa, but the modern annexes were designed to remain in keeping with the original building.

  Stepping inside, Alyssa was immediately struck by a sense of calm. Thick carpeting muffled her tread. A couple of guests wandered past in towelling robes and slippers, conversing in low tones. She wheeled her bag over to the reception desk and waited for attendance.

  “Welcome to Thornton Hall.” The middle-aged receptionist’s smile was warm and genuine.

  “Hi. I’ve got a booking in the name of Morton. There should have been two of us, but…”

  “Ah, yes, Miss Morton. I do hope your friend feels better soon.” Tapping at keys on her computer, the receptionist told Alyssa, “You’ll be in room seventeen, in the west wing. I’m going to need you to fill out a health questionnaire, just to make sure there are no contraindications to any of the treatments we have scheduled for you, and a form for tomorrow morning’s breakfast. Make your choices from the menu, and let us know whether you’d prefer tea or coffee. It will be brought to your room somewhere between half-past seven and eight.”

  Breakfast in bed. How decadent that sounds, Alyssa thought, taking the forms and ballpoint pen bearing the Thornton Hall logo the receptionist handed her.

  “You can sit over there to fill the forms in.” The woman gestured to a low, comfortable-looking sofa. “I’ll print out your schedule for the rest of today. Tomorrow’s will be pushed under the door of your room later tonight. If you’d like to change anything or add any extra treatments, that’s all done in the atrium booking office. Don’t worry, you’ll be given a full tour of the Hall once we’ve finished here.”

  “What about my luggage?” Alyssa asked.

  “That’ll be taken up to your room for you.”

  It really did seem as though nothing was too much trouble for the staff here, with everything designed to involve minimum effort for the guests.

  Once Alyssa had checked in, a girl in a crisp white short-sleeved tunic and matching knee-length skirt arrived to show her around the spa. The extensive tour included the dance and exercise studios—where guests were being guided through a salsa-themed workout and a gruelling boxercise class—the gym, with its state-of-the-art equipment, the exercise pool for serious swimmers and the larger spa pool for relaxation.

  “We also have bikes available, if you fancy taking a spin round the local countryside, and every morning there’s a walk in the grounds. Meet in main reception at half-past eight to take part in that. Now, let me show you the atrium area. That’s where you go for all your beauty treatments…”

  The atrium was a leafy haven where women lounged in their robes, waiting to be called for their massage or facial. Alyssa realised that, during all the time she’d been looking around the Hall, she h
adn’t spotted anyone wearing anything more formal than tracksuit bottoms. Such a change from the office, where she was expected to be trussed up in a skirt suit and nylons, even on the hottest days of the year.

  “And just along here, we have the café, where you can have tea, coffee, smoothies, wine…” The therapist must have seen the look of surprise on Alyssa’s face. “Oh, this isn’t like the old-fashioned health farms where guests were expected to live on lettuce leaves and cottage cheese. If you want to indulge yourself with the odd glass of wine, that’s fine by us. Now, is there anything else you’d like to know?”

  Alyssa shook her head. “I’m sure I’ll remember where everything is.”

  “If not, just ask. Someone will always point you in the right direction. Now, I’ll let you get on with the important business of enjoying your stay.”

  Bustling off in the direction of the treatment rooms, the therapist left Alyssa to make her way to her bedroom so she could unpack. Her printed schedule informed her she was due for her facial in half an hour’, with dinner at seven. The time in between was her own. Maybe she’d use the sauna, or take a walk in the Hall’s beautiful, well-tended gardens…

  She passed a couple of male guests on the stairs, both dressed in tennis whites, and received an approving smile from the younger of the two. Not her type, with his gelled-back dark hair and deep tan, but Kay would’ve been turning her head for a second glance. Unlike Alyssa, she’d hoped to make a sexy new friend for the duration of her stay.