48 Hours

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48 Hours Page 11

by Callista Arman


  He swelled granite-hard as he watched Maddie grasp the first chain. It was silver and matched the chains that adorned her body—the collar around her neck, the belt around her waist, the chains cinching her slit and ass.

  Her hands trembled as she opened the hook on the end of the chain and connected it with the ring on her cuff. It closed with a soft snick. He saw pure panic flash in her eyes. The sight was incredibly erotic.

  He nearly groaned out loud. Seeing Maddie helpless was the biggest turn-on he’d ever had.

  There was just enough slack in the first chain to allow Maddie to reach the second one. She hesitated, fumbling a bit with the second hook. Patrick’s cock strained against the zipper of his pants.

  The hook snapped closed on the cuff and she was caught completely. Patrick drank in every beautiful, submissive line of her body. Naked and cuffed, she was a far cry from the conservative, dark-suited lawyer he’d watched in the courtroom. In fact, the two images were so far apart he couldn’t quite reconcile them in his mind.

  Montevale’s low voice broke into his thoughts. “You see, Patrick, as pleasant as it is to bind a woman, it is even more arousing watching her bind herself. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Yes, sir,” he choked out.

  “When a woman binds herself for you,” Montevale continued. “She places herself in your hands of her own free will. She gives you the gift of her vulnerability. Her helplessness.” He paused. “Her trust. Dominance is never about force,” he continued. “If a Dom has to force his sub to submit to him, it proves only his own weakness.”

  Maddie’s head dipped, sending her hair falling forward. Rafael pressed the remote and the bar began its ascent. It didn’t stop until her snared wrists were well above her head.

  Patrick drew a shuddering breath.

  “Fasten her ankles,” Rafael ordered.

  Throat dry, Patrick stepped up on the low stage. He knelt behind Maddie, his head dangerously close to her pussy. He could smell her arousal. Smell her fear. The combination was a potent aphrodisiac.

  He eyed the butt plug protruding from her round ass. He imagined grasping the ring on the end, imagined twisting and turning it until she moaned. But he wasn’t sure how Rafael would react, so he kept his hands away.

  He grasped one of Maddie’s delicate ankles and moved it a few inches, closer to the eyehook, which he saw had a short chain and fastener attached. Maddie’s legs spread wide as he coaxed them apart. She was tense under his hands, so he squeezed her ankle to reassure her. He doubted if it did any good.

  He clipped one ankle cuff to the hook, then moved to the other leg and fastened that one, too. By the time he was done, he was sweating profusely. Maddie’s legs were spread wide now, at what looked like an uncomfortable distance, her feet flat on the floor about a yard apart.

  He rose on shaky legs and descended the platform. Montevale flicked his remote. Patrick watched as the spreader bar rose higher, until Maddie’s arms were stretched to their absolute limit. Her eyes were wide, her chest rising and falling rapidly. With her legs bound and spread wide, her body formed an erotic “X”. The bar was supporting most of her weight now—Montevale had raised her to the balls of her feet, causing her to paw the ground with her toes, trying desperately to keep her body from swaying.

  “Mr. McIllhenny.”

  He wrenched his gaze from Maddie to look at Montevale. “What?”

  “Would you be so kind as to remove your shirt?”

  Patrick’s brows shot up. If Montevale thought he was going to whip him, too, he had another thought coming.

  “Your shirt,” the Dom said again.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Patrick complied, stripping off the rumpled garment and tossing it on a nearby chair. Montevale gave a nod of approval.

  He stepped forward and placed the leather flogger in Patrick’s hand.

  “The first blows are yours,” he said.

  * * * * *

  The first blows are yours.

  The words echoed in Maddie’s head, somewhere above and behind the roaring in her ears. Rafael had ordered Patrick McIllhenny to flog her. Punish her. This nightmare just kept getting worse and worse. Patrick approached the dais, leather flogger in hand. His blue eyes had gone dark. His normally cheerful features were set in hard, unforgiving angles.

  His shirt was gone, revealing a chest that was more muscular than Maddie would’ve guessed. She’d never seen him wear any tight-fitting clothes. His preference for baggy golf shirts and khaki pants had made him seem slightly overweight, but she saw now that wasn’t the case at all. His pecs weren’t as defined as Rafael’s, but they weren’t anything to laugh at, either.

  His stomach was flat, dusted with dark red hair that thickened below his navel. His pants rode low on his hips. He looked so different from the geeky tech guy she’d thought she knew. She sucked in a breath, trying to clear a sudden lightheadedness.

  She was stretched wide. Her legs were spread, with only the balls of her feet touching the carpet. The bar held her arms wide over her head. It was attached to the ceiling by two long chains—when she moved, she swayed back and forth, unable to steady herself. The sensation was terrifying.

  And arousing. Her body’s juices slid down her thighs.

  Patrick took another step toward her. She nearly groaned. If she had to be disciplined, she preferred Rafael do it. She wanted to submit to the older man. Not to Patrick. She didn’t want Patrick to be the one in control of her body.

  Except that he was.

  Rafael stood to one side, arms crossed over his chest, his dark eyes surveying the scene of his making. His look was intent, but also slightly amused. He was enjoying this. He liked seeing her exposed before a man she’d have to face when this was all over. It must be a power trip for him.

  Patrick circled behind her, out of her line of vision. He drew a sharp breath. An instant later, the hiss of leather cut the air. Before Maddie could brace herself, a sharp, swift lash stung her right ass cheek.

  Shit, that hurt! She cried out, jerking in her manacles, her body swaying helplessly on the chains. She tried to regain her footing. Behind her, Patrick gave a cry of dismay.

  Seconds passed. Then Rafael said, “Another.”

  She tensed as a second blow fell. It landed on her other ass cheek and she was sent swaying again. Dimly, she realized the blow was softer than the first. Still, Patrick’s swats weren’t exactly love taps. She didn’t want another one. She tried desperately to jerk her hands out of the cuffs, but they were too tight—which she well knew, but some primitive instinct forced her to try and escape them.

  “Again.”

  A third swipe fell on her back—another sharp, burning sting she couldn’t twist to avoid. Tears sprung to her eyes.

  At the same time, her pussy gushed and darts of arousal zinged through her body, striking her nipples, clit and pussy. She gasped for breath. Patrick struck again, this time with no prompting from Rafael. The blow fell on her shoulders.

  She could tell he’d never done this before. His movements were jerky and untutored. He laid lash after lash on her skin, some hard enough to make her jerk in her bonds. When Rafael told him to step in front of her, his expression was as mortified as she felt.

  He wasn’t embarrassed enough to stop, however. He kept the blows coming, this time gentle ones flicking across her breasts and mound. She moaned, but not because of the pain. She was more turned on than she’d ever been in her life. More than she’d been in the restaurant, more than when she’d been tied to Rafael’s bed. Despite her humiliation of having Patrick use her this way, her body wanted it. She wanted it.

  She looked at him through a blurry curtain of tears.

  He stiffened. “I’m hurting her,” he said to Rafael.

  “Pain can be a powerful inducement to pleasure,” the older man told him. At Patrick’s disbelieving look, he added, “Feel her folds if you need proof.”

  Patrick shifted the flogger to his left hand. His right hand delved betw
een her spread thighs. She was so slick and ready that she shuddered even before he touched her. When he did make contact, the jolt of electricity that shot through her pussy caused her to sag in her bonds, panting.

  His fingers dipped into her juice, spreading it over her sensitive pussy lips, around the chains pressing into her folds. If only she could have moved her legs, she’d have clamped them on his hand and held it there.

  Patrick caught her gaze, a smile playing around his lips. His fingers smeared her cream over her clit, tearing a moan from her throat. “You do like being flogged, don’t you?”

  She stared, unable to answer.

  Rafael frowned. “Your Master asked you a question, Madeline.”

  She wet her lips with her tongue. “Yes,” she croaked. “I liked it.”

  “Who would’ve thought?” Patrick mused. His wet thumb circled, found her clit again. He flicked the swollen nub and she jerked in her bonds, gasping.

  “You like that, too, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  A dark emotion flared in his eyes. “Yes, Master.”

  She stared at him. Surely he wasn’t serious!

  He flicked his thumb again, harder this time. A jolt of molten pleasure, mingled with pain, darted through her.

  “Yes…Master,” she said in a choked voice.

  His hand withdrew. She almost whimpered with the loss. He raised the flogger again, this time landing a gentle blow right on her mound.

  She gasped, jerking in her chains, her head dropping back as hot bliss flashed through her, pushing her almost to the edge. Another blow like that and she’d explode.

  Rafael—damn him—must have known how close she was to coming. He stepped forward and plucked the flogger from Patrick’s hand. With a jerk of his head, he ordered Patrick’s retreat. Patrick obeyed, stepping off the dais. He didn’t go far, though. He crossed his arms across his chest, his expression suddenly grim.

  Rafael flicked the flogger. The tips of the suede thongs grazed Maddie’s nipples. The touch was so tantalizing, she wasn’t even sure she had felt it. Another swish, a soft, caressing blow to her belly. Her lips parted on a gasp as Rafael circled behind her.

  His third blow fell on her already-tender ass. She yelped and jerked. The motion set her body swaying. God, she hated that. She scrambled frantically to regain her footing. But the lash fell again and again, a soft rain of gently stinging blows that had her twisting and gasping. She was helpless to resist the sensations. Pain, yes, but a burning agony mingled with intense pleasure. And the pleasure grew with each skillful blow Rafael dealt her.

  A soft sob escaped her lips. Her clit throbbed. Rafael seemed to know just how to time his lashes, just how to place them, to keep her on a delicious, agonizing edge.

  She couldn’t bear it any more. “Please,” she begged. “Let me come.”

  Patrick sucked in a sharp breath, but said nothing. The teasing blows continued, soft caresses on her mound, her thighs, her hips. She arched toward the blows, her pleasure building, the coil inside her tightening. She was beyond caring that Patrick was watching—at that moment, she wouldn’t have cared if half the senior attorneys at KK&R had been in the room with her. All that mattered was her climax. She stretched toward it. She was so close…

  The blows stopped. She stared at Rafael, angled her hips toward him in a silent plea. A protest rose in her throat, but somehow she managed not to voice it. It wasn’t her place to question her Master.

  She forced herself to look at Patrick. His hands were clenched in fists at his side. His jaw was set grimly and the bulge in his pants had swelled incredibly. She stared at it. He must be hung like a horse. Who’d have thought it?

  She swallowed, hard. She was sure to be feeling that cock in her body sometime soon.

  Rafael lowered the spreader bar. “Unclip Madeline’s wrists,” he told Patrick.

  Patrick mounted the dais and freed her arms. “What about her ankles?”

  “Not yet.” Rafael raised the spreader bar, then joined them on the stage. Cupping Maddie’s neck from behind, he forced her to bend forward. “Support yourself with your palms, cara,” he said.

  Her ass was in the air, facing Patrick.

  “Take out the plug,” Rafael told him.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. Could a person die of humiliation? Apparently not, because she was still breathing. Patrick laid one hand on the small of her back. The other gripped the ring on the end of the plug. Gently, he tugged. She forced herself to relax.

  Her body opened, releasing the toy with a sucking noise. Rafael bent and unlocked her ankle restraints. Helping Maddie to her feet, he guided her through the door to the bathroom.

  Patrick followed. At Rafael’s command, he cleaned off the plug in the sink. If he felt disgusted by the job, he didn’t show it. When he finished, Rafael instructed Maddie to use the toilet.

  She stared at him. “With you watching?”

  Rafael looked amused. “Of course.”

  “But…” Her gaze snapped to Patrick, then back to Rafael. “Him, too?”

  Rafael inclined his head.

  Maddie’s shoulders hunched. She thought of refusing Rafael’s order, but she really had to go and she suspected her protests would only serve to earn another punishment. She went to the toilet and sat down. Both men watched her as she peed.

  Having Patrick witness this basic bodily function was worse than having him flog her. Did Rafael mean to strip every shred of dignity from her before their time was over?

  When she finished, Rafael guided her to the bed, Patrick trailing behind.

  “How do you feel, cara?”

  She hesitated, biting her bottom lip.

  “The truth, Madeline.”

  “Embarrassed,” she said. “Humiliated. I want to die of shame.” A pause. “But I’m horny, too. I want to come in the worst way.”

  Rafael chuckled. “Lie on the bed, cara. On your stomach.”

  When she was in place, he rubbed her burning ass cheeks, then swatted one gently. She flinched.

  “Will you remember today’s lesson?”

  “Yes, Master,” she said, her voice muffled by the quilt.

  Rafael rubbed her ass again, then separated the cheeks and smeared lubricant on her anus.

  “Open the top right dresser drawer,” he told Patrick. “Find a plug larger than the one you removed.”

  Footsteps, then the slide of a dresser drawer told her Patrick was doing what Rafael ordered.

  “Put it in.”

  Maddie tensed. Patrick’s hands were on her ass, separating the cheeks and the chains that nestled in her crack. She felt the blunt head of the plug, cool against her hot hole. He rotated it a little, easing it in bit by bit. Her ass burned as it stretched to accommodate the new rubber toy. Shit! How much bigger was it than the one he’d removed?

  She wondered if the plug was as thick as Rafael’s cock. Or as thick as Patrick’s.

  Finally, the plug was seated inside her. She wriggled, trying to get used to it. In the time she’d worn the first plug, she’d grown accustomed to feeling its presence in her ass. But this new plug stretched her much wider. She couldn’t imagine the sensation ever fading into the background.

  Rafael ordered her to turn on her side, facing him. When she’d obeyed, he clipped her wrist cuffs together. Drawing them over her head, he tied them to the center of the headboard. Then he moved behind her, to that damn wardrobe, and rummaged in it. God, what was he looking for now?

  “Slide this into Madeline’s pussy. Remove the chains from her waist and between her legs first.”

  Patrick’s shaking hands found the closures on her chains. They slid away, then he reappeared at the side of the bed with an enormous, lifelike dildo. The thing had a bulbous head and bulging veins. Leather straps dangled from it.

  “Roll onto your back and spread your knees,” Patrick commanded softly.

  She squeezed her eyes closed and rolled onto her back, her legs dropping open.
r />   “And look into my eyes.”

  Rafael let out a low chuckle. “You’re making progress, Mr. McIllhenny.”

  Maddie opened her eyes. Patrick snared her gaze as he leaned toward her. He slid his hand between her thighs and spread her pussy lips.

  He worked the huge head of the dildo into her, inch by slow inch. She wanted to tell him to slide it in more quickly. She was so close to the edge. One good thrust was sure to make her come.

  “Go slowly,” admonished Rafael. “Don’t let her climax.”

  Patrick grunted. He watched Maddie’s face as he slid the dildo into her pussy, teasing and torturing, his strokes too gentle to give her the release she craved. His knowing smirk told her he was well aware of her frustration. Holding her gaze, he pushed it in as far as it would go. She felt it touch the tip of the plug in her ass, only a thin wall of flesh between them.

  Now both her holes were filled. The sensation was incredibly erotic. Her inner muscles contracted. Pleasure knifed through her, but it wasn’t enough. She wriggled, trying to work up enough fiction to make herself come. No dice.

  She groaned her disappointment.

  Patrick’s blue eyes went dark.

  “The straps,” Rafael reminded him.

  Patrick fastened them around her thighs and hips, adjusting the closures so the dildo was held firmly in place. By the time he was done, his hands were shaking and sweat was trickling down the side of his face.

  “Tie her legs to the posts.”

  Patrick grasped Maddie’s ankle and anchored it as Rafael had done earlier. Circling the end of the bed, he did the same on the other side. When he was finished, he paused at the foot of the bed and stared.

  Maddie felt her body heat, the product of equal measures of arousal and embarrassment. Patrick’s expression was unreadable. Did he like what he saw? Or did he think she was a slut, to allow herself to be plugged and trussed this way?

  “Would you like to give yourself relief, Mr. McIllhenny?” Rafael asked.

  “You know I would,” Patrick said tightly.

  “Then I give you permission to do just that. You may use the bed. My only requirement is that you don’t touch any part of Madeline’s body with any part of yours.”

 

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