A Jade's Trick

by Lilly Black

  As I pop the large plate in the microwave, I take a sip of the orange juice and find that he has put champagne in it.

  Champagne, strawberries, and whipped cream? Is this Cain’s idea of a joke? I wonder as I set the tray on the breakfast bar. Then I notice a black gift box. It looks very BDSM with black nylon ribbons tied through thick, silver grommets on the lid and sides, and there’s a handwritten card addressed to me.

  Evan,

  You may find these useful, though I still very much enjoyed your improvisation.

  Cain

  Excited, I untie the ribbons. Inside I find a blindfold, a set of wrist and ankle cuffs, and four nylon tethers - a very tame kit compared to some I’ve seen but perfect for what I did to him last night. And now I can’t stop thinking about last night…reliving every moment in my head from the time we got out of the bathtub…

  September 12, Playing Dominatrix

  With Cain compliant, lying in the bed waiting for me, I slip into my wonderful, new closet to get dressed and grab some more silk stockings, then wearing nothing but the corset and stilettos, I parade into the bedroom, ready to tie him up.

  “You look incredible,” Cain says.

  “Shhh,” I hiss as I reveal the stockings from behind my back.

  I bind his right wrist to the dark walnut bedpost that rises four feet over the thick, memory foam mattress, sucking his fingers into my mouth as I go. I bind the other wrist, then move to his feet, biting them, his already rock-hard cock twitching to each slight jolt of pain. When I have him splayed out, he’s completely at my mercy and hot as hell because of it.

  “I don’t have the proper tools for this, so I guess until you buy them for me, you’ll have to be satisfied with improvisation,” I say, indicating his bonds as I pick up the remaining two stockings and straddle him. “Lift your head.” I tie one stocking around his head as makeshift blindfold, and I use the last one as a gag. I only need his mouth for kissing, and as it reinforces the his submission to me, I’m willing to work around a thin barrier of silk.

  I slide down Cain’s body and I settle between his legs, starting in the little dip where his inner thigh meets his pelvis, grazing him with my teeth as I make small circles with my tongue, teasing and denying him until he’s so hard his cock is parallel to his body. When I finally take it in my hand, it’s barely malleable, as if it will break if I try to move it.

  I reposition myself, lying across his abs, stroking him with one hand, the other beneath his balls, a wet thumb flickering to give him the illusion of a second tongue at work, and when I take him into my mouth, he shudders, breathing my name. I speed up my attack, my voracious tongue coaxing him toward madness, pushing him on until he’s so close he’ll erupt if I breathe on him, then I stop, calm him, and start it all over again.

  “Please, Evan, please let me come,” he pleads, his speech unaffected by the gag, but when I freeze, playing the cruel mistress who is unmoved by his begging, instead of disappointment, I hear a soft “oh, fuck, yes!” muttered under his breath. It confuses me, but I go with it.

  “I’m going to fuck you again, but you are not allowed to come until I give you permission. Can you be trusted?” I ask.

  “Yes. I swear,” he assures me, and I mount him, astride and facing away from him. I have to lie on my back atop him to make it work, my hands flat on the bed at his sides and my feet by his knees as I balance myself in a crab walk position. It’s awkward as fuck, but the length of my hair covers his face, helping the insufficient blindfold hide my gracelessness as I let my desire guide me, his cock like hot steel inside me, torturing every nerve ending as I arch my back into the perfect angle. Cain pulls at his bonds as he thrusts into me, and the ache of my muscles being used in unnatural ways intensifies the burning need inside.

  “Come for me, Evan,” Cain whispers, his words almost enough to push me over the edge.

  “You come for me,” I command, and like an animal, he growls, pushing into me hard and fast, over and over until he explodes, the sensation of his release inside me taking me with him, screaming and shuddering as I throw my head back violently, my hair whipping his face.

  Exhausted, I lie atop him, feeling his chest heave and his breath hot against my neck, and when I slide to lie beside him, I realize I didn’t think this through, neither of our towels within reach as the evidence glistens all over Cain’s lower body in the dim light. He doesn’t seem to mind at all. Even after I untie one wrist, he just puts his arm around me, holding me so tight it hurts.

  And I love the way it hurts.

  September 13, Breakfast

  The microwave beeps, and when I sit down at the bar to eat, I send Cain a quick text about the gift he left me this morning.

  I opened the black box. Your tribute pleases me, I type.

  Tribute, huh? His response comes immediately.

  I assume that these cuffs are your size.

  They were in the box from XP, Inc. that Lucy delivered by accident, purchased well before your bid for dominance.

  Well, they’re mine now, and they already have me consumed by dirty thoughts before breakfast.

  Pace yourself. You don’t know the half of it. So cryptic and exciting. So Cain.

  Care to elaborate?

  Eat your breakfast, Evan. You’ll need your strength today.

  As I recall, you refused to make me breakfast unless I was tied to the bed.

  And later, you may very well be.

  You forget your place, Playboy.

  And you’ll forget your notions of dominance when I have you in chains, little girl.

  Don’t you have work to do? I snipe.

  I do, so stop distracting me.

  Yes, Sir!

 

  I type.

 

  Ditto, I type, and I leave it at that, picturing him laughing out loud.

  After breakfast, I go into my closet to get ready, finding everything I could possibly need, and in the drawer by the vanity, though the brands are more expensive than I could ever afford, I find cosmetics in my exact shades. It’s sweet, but sometimes Cain’s diligence scares me. He’s just too good to be true.

  Oh, well. Enjoy the ride, I tell myself.

  Lucy comes for me at precisely 2:00 pm, and though I immediately begin apologizing to her for my behavior the last time she took me to the dungeon, I’m relieved when she acts as though it was completely insignificant to her.

  This time when the elevator opens on the 11th floor, I see the dungeon with different eyes, lustful eyes that can’t wait to take it all in. I examine the whips that hang along the left wall on ornate hooks, and though daunting, I’m intoxicated by the heavy scent of leather as I picture them in Cain’s hands…and mine.

  Along the back wall are three gothic-style armoires that have been stained black, and when I open the first, I find a vast assortment of leather lingerie - corsets, bustiers, dresses. The next is full of toys, and the last has the implements of bondage, the cuffs, the chains, the tethers. There’s too much to process, but Lucy is here to answer any questions, standing quietly by the velvet curtain, looking downward like an android awaiting use. I hope that’s not what Cain expects of me in here. I know that the anticipation is part of the game, but anything that seems demeaning to me triggers my defenses. If not his greatest lover, at least I will be his greatest challenge in here, and the more I think about Lucy standing there like that, the less I tolerate it. I insist that she stop the submissive behavior immediately, and she complies, coming to stand beside me, which isn’t much better.

  Why is she here at all?

  “Lucy, does Cain intend for you to train me?” I ask, my mind suddenly invaded by thoughts I cannot control.

  “Mr. Ballantyne asked me to familiarize you with…” Lucy says nervously.

  “Did you famili
arize his other submissives?” I demand, my mood taking a nosedive.

  “No, I trained them.”

  “I see,” I say curtly, and incapable of stopping it, my pride overtakes me. Whatever Cain was expecting from me when I call him to join me in this place is not going to happen, not like this. I pull out my phone.

  You will not be joining me at the dungeon later. If you want to see me here at all, you will come right this minute.

  Is everything ok? He texts back. I say nothing.

  Evan? He texts, and I imagine him climbing the walls wondering what must have gone wrong. It amuses me, which keeps me distracted from wanting to cry about the fact that he turned me over to his chauffeur to be trained. It’s sickening.

  Evan! My phone pings again.

  Everything is not ok, I finally relent and text him back.

  What happened? He asks. I ignore him.

  Goddamn it, Evan! He texts. I will be there as soon as I can.

  You have ten minutes, I type. As soon as I hit send, Lucy’s phone begins ringing.

  “It’s Mr. Ballantyne,” she says.

  “Don’t answer it.”

  “But, Evan, I can’t do that.” Lucy pleads with her eyes, not wanting to betray Cain’s trust in her.

  “Lucy, if you want to help Mr. Ballantyne, from now on, my commands supersede his, and if he wants to keep me, he’ll learn to accept it,” I demand boldly.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” she says.

  “Send the call to voice mail,” I order, and she obeys, the look in her eyes like that of a child excited and scared to be doing something forbidden.

  Impatiently tapping my fingernails as I sit on the dining table, I don’t have to wait long. Cain walks through the door well before his ten minutes are up, and I sit glaring at him, back straight, legs crossed, as if upon a throne with my lady in waiting standing at my side.

  “Lucy, could you give us a minute?” he asks before even addressing me, and he’s stunned when Lucy looks at me for approval first. I nod my head, and as she hurries for the door, Cain’s eyes warily scan us both.

  “How dare you turn me over to Lucy for training like the rest of your submissive whores!” I snap as the door closes behind Lucy.

  “She was here to answer questions while you familiarize yourself with the dungeon,” he says calmly.

  “You’re just saying ‘familiarize’ to make the idea of Lucy training me sound more palatable, but it’s still the same thing!” I shout, and Cain laughs. “Do I amuse you?”

  “It’s just funny to me that I’m getting a vocabulary lesson from someone who clearly doesn’t understand the meaning of the word ‘submissive’.”

  “Keep laughing, and I’ll teach you the meaning of the word submissive,” I threaten, but I don’t mean it like he takes it. I am not playing. I’m pissed.

  “Forgive me, Mistress,” he says with that tone, laughing at me.

  “Stop it, Cain! It isn’t funny!” I bark as my eyes begin to fill with tears. Goddamn it! I hate myself in this moment! I don’t even want to be having this fight at all. I want to be with Cain tonight in the glorious, dark playground behind the velvet curtain, not in some sort of scenario he dreams up to placate me because I’m fucking crying again!

  “I’m laughing, Evan, because I just don’t get it,” Cain says, his tone cold. “But since the issues between us all seem to have the common theme of bondage, I don’t think you’re being honest with me. You aren’t ready for this. I’m not sure you even want it.”

  “What I want is to not be treated like just another horse in your stable! You can tell me I’m different all fucking day long, but your actions say otherwise. I’m not blind, Cain!”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” he demands.

  “This place! You sent me here for Lucy to train me just like all the others, like Elizabeth! That’s what that ‘E’ in the closet used to stand for, isn’t it? How convenient!”

  “Have you lost your fucking mind? Christ, Evan!” He runs his fingers roughly through his hair. “Look. There is obviously some sticking point with you and this place, and if this is not what you want, it’s not going to work. It’s time we stopped pretending!”

  “If that’s what you want, then fuck you!”

  “What I want?” he shouts back, incredulous. “You fucking know what I want!”

  “Do I?” I screech it at him. God! Why can’t I stop myself? “I was sure as fuck confused about what you wanted when I saw you with Elizabeth at Qualcomm. You can say whatever you want about feeling sorry for her, but I think you just wanted to keep your options open. You probably did buy her an engagement ring at that jewelry store, and as soon as you are ‘finished with me…’” I say with finger quotes around the words and a venom in my voice that I don’t even recognize. “…you’ll put it on her finger and marry the only woman you’ve ever been faithful to!”

  “Do you want to know what I bought at Grohl’s, you fucking crazy bitch?” Cain roars as he reaches behind the booth seat. “Here!” He slams a box down on the table, startling me. It’s a plain black box, about a foot and a half long and maybe 5” wide, tied up with a neat satin bow. “This is what I bought!”

  “What’s in there? Some solid gold symbol of my servitude?” I push the box across the table, pissed.

  “Goddamn it, woman, you’re impossible!”

  “To someone who finds it impossible to treat a woman with a respect, I guess I fucking am!”

  “I don’t respect you? Is that what you think?” Cain hisses at me as he stalks quickly past the velvet curtain, then he comes at me. “You have no respect.”

  I don’t have time to respond before he’s on me, pulling me toward the booth. In his hand is a black paddle, and being so much stronger than me, he has no problem forcing me over his knee. He yanks my skirt up and my panties down as I thrash, and then I feel the first blow from the paddle. It only stings a little, but when he brings it down again in the same spot, it really hurts. After a succession of quick strikes, I stop struggling, then I feel the paddle once more before I hear him laying it down on the table. He pulls my panties up, smoothes my skirt down to cover my ass, and sets me on my feet, and I back away, looking at him in shock, my eyes filled with unshed tears. I cannot believe he did that!

  As Cain stares at me coldly, my face contorts with fury, and my hands ball into fists. I come at him, and before I even realize what I am doing, my fists open to grasp his shoulders and slam his back against the leather of the booth. I jam one knee between his legs as I impatiently attack his mouth with mine, slipping off my underwear and nudging with my knee for him to do the same. I felt him grow hard the second I kissed him, and as soon as his pants are down far enough to release his cock, I straddle him in the seat, guiding him inside me. With his arms around me, holding me tight against him, Cain helps to lift me up and pull me down onto his cock, his face between my tits, my fingernails digging into the back of his head as he takes me to a quick and powerful orgasm.

  I cry out, and he pulls my head back by a handful of my hair, biting my neck as he holds himself deep inside, the feel of my muscles gently clenching his cock and the soft sounds of my breathing the only evidence that I survived this moment.

  I slide into the floor at the end of the booth and take his cock into my mouth, finishing him swiftly and unceremoniously, wanting to leave him hungry. I fucked up our afternoon, but I won’t let it ruin our evening because I want what I came here for. I want it now more than ever, and I am not even ashamed that being paddled was the catalyst.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, leaning against the table in front of him, all the fight gone out of me. Why do I always have to learn things the hard way?

  “I’m sorry, too, baby,” Cain says, and he leans forward to kiss me on the forehead.

  “I guess sometimes I just need fucked to get my head straight,” I joke.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says as he pulls me up into his lap and puts his arms around me. “I didn’t mean to
hurt you, baby, and I swear if you never want to come back here, I don’t want to either. I want you - not a dungeon, not a sub - you, and if having you means I have to put all of this behind me, it’s already gone.”

  “You don’t,” I say, my eyes cast downward, feeling petty and ridiculous.

  “You may think you want this, but…”

  “Am I the only one who has had a problem with it?” I ask. “Did all of the others just jump right in?”

  “They had ulterior motives, and they were all the same to me, here to be broken. I didn’t bring you here to break you, Evan, but when I see you like this, I feel like you’re breaking anyway.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “Don’t be sorry. Just be your insufferably willful self.” I laugh and look up into his eyes. They’re cornflower blue. “I will walk away from this room for you, Evan.”

  “I don’t want that. I swear,” I say, and fighting against my defense mechanism’s insistence that he should make the first move here, I snake my arms around his neck, twist my fingers in his hair, and kiss him. I just want to forget this stupid fight ever happened.

  “The box,” Cain says when I end the kiss, directing me toward it with his eyes. I slide to sit beside him, the box now between us on the table.

  “What is it?”

  “Something I never thought I’d buy,” Cain says. I reach for it, but he stops me, taking my hand in both of his.

  “When we first met, I knew you weren’t exactly like my former subs, but you still came off like an elitist ice queen who needed to be brought to heel.” Cain laughs, but his demeanor remains serious. “I was wrong about you. You’re strong and capable of taking care of yourself, but what you need is for someone to take care of you for a change. You don’t have to be my submissive for me to do that. I want you so much, Evan…I want us…” Cain trails off and sighs, charming me in this rare moment as he struggles with the words.