Subspace

by Sierra Cartwright

  Jon picked up the dildo, which was still lying abandoned in the middle of his bedroom, and pensively slapped the solid piece of rubber against his thigh. This night had turned out a little differently than he had planned. But not bad, he thought, oh no, not bad at all. He took the dildo into the small bathroom to clean it. When he’d put it away in his toy box by the bed he smiled. There were a lot of things he would like to do to Catherine, but he wouldn’t need the dildo tomorrow. His cock hardened at the thought and he pulled off his jeans to free his erection. Thinking of Catherine’s wet and swollen cunt, he stroked one hand along his hard shaft. He would definitely enjoy fucking her. Resisting the need to jerk off, he decided to take a shower instead. Tomorrow night, he promised himself. She would certainly be worth the wait.

  Chapter Two

  Catherine woke with difficulty from a too short, restless sleep as the alarm on her mobile began its second round of furious beeping. For a moment she panicked before she realised where she was. Safe—calm down, you’re safe. She repeated the words like a mantra in her head until her breathing slowed again.

  She hadn’t been able to go to sleep last night, tossing and turning for hours, thinking of the intriguing encounter with the strange Dom in her office. She didn’t even know his name, yet the single glimpse she had got of his stern, handsome face and his deep husky voice had made her so hot she had desperately wanted to disobey his orders and bring herself to orgasm. But she couldn’t do that. She was sure he would know because she would know. That was how it worked. Although, maybe it would be worth finding out how he would punish her for disobeying his orders… Hmm.

  Catherine sighed and resisted the urge to touch her throbbing, wet folds. She climbed out of bed and walked over to her desk to turn on the electric espresso maker, then put a mug with some milk in her small microwave oven. The room was tiny, just big enough for a single bed, a desk and a two-door wardrobe. It looked crammed even with the few things she had brought with her, but she had been lucky to get it at all. Single rooms with en suite bathrooms were not something she remembered from her time as a student. She took a quick shower and washed her hair with her favourite tangerine-scented shampoo.

  Wrapped in a large towel with another twisted around her hair, she finished making coffee and added a spoon of Demerara sugar before sitting down to drink it. She sighed as the hot, sweet liquid warmed her body and the caffeine rushed through her veins. When she opened her laptop, the small red number next to the mail icon informed her that she had six new emails. She pulled up the mail window to look through them. Three were ads, one was a job offer for a position in New York, and the fifth was from her London estate agents informing her they still had no offers in the price range she had specified. She kept the sixth email for last. It was from someone with the unlikely email address submit2me@mail.com. The subject line was a single word—tonight.

  Catherine’s hand trembled as she double-clicked the icon to open the email.

  Catherine, she read. I expect you to follow the instructions in this email to the letter. Otherwise, I will have to punish you for your disobedience. While I would certainly enjoy doing so, I am not sure that you would equally enjoy the experience. Here are your orders. I want you to step outside your office building at eight o’clock precisely tonight. You will wear a skirt or dress—short but not too tight—and no underwear so I can inspect you in the car, as I see fit. If you own a butt plug, insert it now and wear it to work today. If not, opening you up will be all the more delicious for me. I am sure you remember my order not to climax before we meet. Disobeying this order will result in severe punishment. I look forward to playing with you tonight.

  No name, Catherine thought. Damn him. He could at least have given her his name before demanding she wear a butt plug and leave work without panties! She wondered who he was and how he had got into her office last night. Had someone let him in? She was pretty sure he didn’t work there. The mystery of the man’s identity terrified and aroused her in equal measures. She knew, of course, that she would do exactly as he had demanded. She desperately needed to. It had been far too long since she had last played. She hadn’t bothered to explore the local BDSM scene. It wasn’t as if she’d had much time to explore the nightlife, with her new job and the search for an affordable flat. Catherine sighed. Who was she kidding? She hadn’t been ready to start over again with random encounters in clubs. Not after all these years. Not after Markus. She shook her head to drive away the bad memories. This one was different, she told herself - trustworthy. But how far did she dare to go? She finished her coffee and got up to dress for work.

  * * * *

  Catherine was ready and waiting just inside the wood-framed glass doors to her office building at three minutes to eight. She stared at her wristwatch, counting the seconds. She had double-checked it against the BBC news for the umpteenth time half an hour ago and was quite sure it was accurate now. She hadn’t been able to concentrate on work at all today, hypnotised by the slow-moving hands of the wall clock when she wasn’t daydreaming about what was going to happen tonight. At one point she had found herself typing the word ‘butt plug’ instead of ‘buttress’ into her summary of a serious and urgent environmental report on tsunami countermeasures. Sheesh!

  Sighing, she pulled down the way-too-short black leather miniskirt she had bought at a fetish store near King’s Cross Station on her lunch break along with a medium-sized silicone butt plug. A delicious frisson of arousal had crept up her spine as she carried these items back to the office in a thin, black plastic bag. What if her colleagues found out what she was up to?

  She had inserted the butt plug in the ladies’ room after lunch but left the miniskirt for later. This really wasn’t her kind of outfit. It showed off too much of her substantial thighs, and she was afraid that someone might notice she wasn’t wearing panties. Of course, this possibility also made her really hot and the constant pressure of the butt plug heightened her arousal.

  The top was a disaster in itself. While she tried to keep the soft cowl neck pulled up, it slipped with every movement she made and her breasts were constantly in danger of popping out of the skimpy garment. She had been wearing the top to work today and had only realised it was a dangerous choice when she had taken off the bra and the long-sleeved red T-shirt she had worn underneath.

  One minute to go. She checked her makeup in her pocket mirror, then had to readjust her top again. Thirty seconds. She peeked out through the glass doors but couldn’t see much of the street. At eight o’clock sharp a black Saab convertible pulled up to the kerb, just as she stepped out of the building. The roof was closed so she couldn’t see the driver, but the passenger door was opened for her from the inside and she didn’t hesitate to get into the car.

  He looked, even more handsome than she remembered, in black jeans and a tight black T-shirt that fitted his broad, muscular upper body to perfection. His short brown hair was combed back, and a pair of black Ray Bans dangled from the neckline of his T-shirt. He was definitely gorgeous enough to eat, and Catherine had a strong compulsion to lick his body from head to toe.

  He said, “Good evening, Catherine.” His deep voice went straight to her G-spot and her knees went weak.

  She risked another brief glance at him and whispered a shy ‘Hello’, before turning to fasten her seatbelt. Suppressing the insane urge to throw herself at his feet and beg him to take her right here in the car, she meekly folded her hands in her lap and stared at the floor. He started the engine and pulled away from the kerb. Catherine didn’t dare ask him where they were going. She felt completely at his mercy, and a delightful shiver of anticipation ran through her body.

  “Put your hands behind your back,” he ordered as they stopped at a traffic light. A feeling of calm spread slowly through Catherine’s whole body. It was such a relief to cede responsibility to him. She wriggled forward in the seat and clasped her wrists behind the small of her back. No longer self-conscious about how she looked, she attuned herself to h
is wishes, anticipating the pleasure of his touch.

  He took one hand off the wheel and reached over to pull her cowl neck down below her waist and expose both breasts. He gave an appreciative ‘Hmm’ when her nipples hardened in the cool evening air. He slipped his hand between her legs, nudging her thighs apart as far as they would go in the short skirt. “I like the outfit,” he commented and slipped one long finger into her, then ran it through her folds to spread the moisture. “Hmm,” he rumbled again. His hand slipped lower and his probing fingers found the butt plug. “Very nice.”

  He tapped the end lightly, sending shivers of dark delight up Catherine’s spine. She imagined him taking her from behind, fucking first her pussy and then her arsehole. The vivid mental images made her so wet she was sure she would leave a puddle on the seat.

  The light turned green and he took his hand away abruptly to put it back on the steering wheel. Catherine felt strangely bereft without his touch. She clenched her mouth shut around a tiny whimper of frustration.

  They pulled up in front of an old warehouse in the East End a short time later and she had to keep her curiosity in check. Did he live here? Or was this some kind of club? She had seen S&M clubs in similar abandoned, post-industrial locations in both Berlin and New York. He parked the car at the kerb and opened the passenger door for her. She resisted the compulsion to pull her cowl neck up again and cover her breasts. He hadn’t given her permission. She remembered all too well how this worked. Markus’ training had definitely made her an excellent sub. But somehow everything was different with this man. He had an air about him that made her forget their relationship was purely one of Dominant and submissive. She desperately wanted to ask him questions, to explore his body, to play with him on her own terms. Stop that right now! Catherine reprimanded herself and walked beside him to the large steel doors that marked the entrance of the building. She was here to play, and play she would.

  * * * *

  Catherine sighed and stretched luxuriously in the huge bathtub full of hot, rose-scented water. She hadn’t expected to be treated like this. None of the Dominants she had ever played with in the past, including Markus, had bothered to bathe her. But here she was, luxuriating in a hot bath while her strange new Dom sat on the edge and ran a soapy cloth over her body in slow, languid motions. He had first made her kneel so he could gently wash her back, then turned her and told her to relax and enjoy. And, curiously enough, she did enjoy it.

  “You can soak for a little longer. I’ll be right back with dinner,” he said as he dropped the cloth into the water.

  Catherine nodded, too amazed to speak. Would he feed her too? Or maybe he meant his own dinner. Markus had liked to use her as a table and she hadn’t really minded. It was a good exercise in control, as it took a lot of concentration not to stir when he set his hot plate and cool wineglass on her bare skin. But why bathe her first if that was what her new Dom wanted?

  When he entered the room again he was carrying a tray, and Catherine knelt up, immediately anticipating his order to get out, but it didn’t come. Instead, he set the tray on a low bedside table and walked towards her again, picking up a large towel from a rack by the window. He held the towel out for her and started to rub her dry as he helped her out of the bath. His touch felt strangely intimate, even with the towel between her naked skin and his. She couldn’t remember when someone had last cuddled her like this. Not even as a child. Her mother had left them early, and her father, an American GI stationed in Germany, had largely taught her to fend for herself. He had believed in discipline and control and, as a consequence, those were the things she had craved most throughout her adult life. There had certainly not been intimate moments like this with her husband. Markus had been a stern Master. He had given her the control she needed but had never offered her tenderness, not even before he had lost control of himself in the end. She risked another brief glance at her new Dom’s face and found him smiling.

  “Jon,” he said, “Jonathan Udrow. That’s my name, in case you were wondering. I realise that you are too well trained to ask. Is there anything else you would like to know before we start?”

  Catherine shook her head, then thought better of it and nodded.

  “Go ahead, ask me,” he said simply.

  She thought for a moment before she came out with, “There are many things I would like to know about you, although I realise that it is not a sub’s position to ask questions.”

  Jon nodded. “We can talk later, after playing. I suspect we will both have a few questions then and we can trade them.”

  Catherine stared at him, not comprehending.

  “Have you never traded questions before?” he continued, “I ask a question, which you have to answer truthfully, and then you get to ask one of yours, which I have to answer truthfully. Deal?”

  Catherine nodded again. That did sound fair. The mention of playing had her shivering with excitement. Jon obviously felt her body tense and rubbed her back soothingly.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll like what I’ve got in store for you. What’s your safeword?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve never had one.”

  He frowned. “You have played before, haven’t you?”

  She nodded. “I have played. Never had a safeword, though.”

  “Well, you’ll choose one before we start to play. It is a simple safety precaution. Now let’s eat.”

  He took her hand and pulled her over to the bed, dropping the towel on the floor as he went. His gaze roamed appreciatively over her naked body as he set two large cushions on the floor on each side of the bedside table. He pointed to the one closest to her. “Sit!”

  So dinner wasn’t just for him. He sat on the other cushion and turned the tray towards her to set steaming bowls of dim sum and different sauces in front of each of them. He had also prepared fried vegetables and a small bowl of rice for each. The food smelt delicious and Catherine’s mouth watered.

  “Eat! The dim sum are all vegetarian,” he said, his tone authoritative and he handed her a pair of wooden chopsticks.

  They both ate in silence for a few minutes. Catherine wondered how he knew that she didn’t eat meat but didn’t dare to ask or even look at him. Only the promise of getting her questions answered later on helped her to keep her curiosity in check.

  The food tasted just as wonderful as it smelt, and she found herself relaxing a little. Suddenly she thought of something, a myth she had read years ago.

  “Pandora,” she blurted.

  He raised a curious eyebrow at her and she explained, “My safeword. It’s Pandora.”

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  She finished her meal and Jon pushed the tray to the side, obviously deciding to leave the dishes for later. Catherine had to fight the impulse to take the tray off him and crawl to the kitchen to wash the dishes like a good little slave. She smiled wryly at her own thoughts, but Jon distracted her by pulling out a large plastic box from under the bed. Catherine was stunned. The man had quite a collection of toys. She would certainly like to try the huge black rubber dildo that lay on top of the box, or the tiny blue strap-on butterfly she suspected was a vibrator. She licked her suddenly dry lips.

  “Playtime,” Jon remarked casually. “Do you need to use the bathroom before we start?”

  Catherine nodded, again surprised at his thoughtfulness, and he pointed to a door in the corner of the room.

  The bathroom was small and serviceable compared to the large open space of the bedroom. The white tiles from floor to ceiling made it look almost clinically sterile. There was a shower behind a glass wall to her left and a toilet to her right, which left room for a small washbasin on the wall opposite the door. Catherine sat on the toilet and listened for sounds from the other room. She couldn’t hear anything. Good. She had never been able to go when she thought someone could hear her. Markus had endlessly mocked her because of this and threatened to give her a proper ‘toilet training’ if she didn’t relax. Catherine shuddered and had
to make a conscious effort to suppress the dark memories, before she was able to finish what she had come for. Long gone. She told herself. Focus on the present. And she did.

  As she washed her hands, she caught a glance of her face in the mirror. There was a deep glow to her skin and her eyes were sparkling with a fire that had been absent for quite a while now. Yes, Catherine thought, she would definitely enjoy playing with Jon.

  Chapter Three

  Catherine’s whole body arched as she lay on her back on Jon’s bed, her hands tied over her head, her ankles spread wide by his will only, without the help of a spreader bar. Jon had discarded the heavy chain he had used on his recent visitor and decided to adorn Catherine’s lush breasts with a set of delicate silver nipple clamps with tiny bells he had picked up in Amsterdam a few years ago. The bells jingled with every movement she made, and he was thoroughly enjoying her struggles to keep still while he stimulated her clit with his thumb and drove two, then three fingers into her. Her cunt was weeping for him and she smelt of arousal; hot and salty.

  “Talk to me!” he commanded as she began to pant.

  “Pleeeease!” she moaned.

  “Please what? You have to be a little more specific than that.”

  “Please Sir, may I come?”

  “Not yet.” Jon took his thumb from her clit and she moaned again.

  He added a fourth finger and she gasped. With the bells on her nipples now jingling constantly it was beginning to sound a lot like Christmas around here.

  “I want to fuck you first in your greedy little cunt and then your arsehole, and then you can come but not before. Is that clear?”