Fast and Loose

by Justine Elyot

  I swallowed, nodding.

  ‘You’re afraid,’ he noted, and it wasn’t a question.

  ‘A bit,’ I admitted.

  ‘Ellie,’ reproved Maria. ‘You’ve been in my dungeon. How can you be afraid of a little dinner?’

  ‘I suppose this feels…more real,’ I said.

  And it did feel real. Judd Keane’s lust for me was written all over his face. It was occurring to me more and more forcibly with each passing moment that I’d better be absolutely sure of what I was doing. Deep waters lay ahead.

  How had Mia described him at their first meeting? A man whose intensity sweeps aside everything in its path. A powerful man, in every possible sense. A man, at last, to reckon with. She seemed to have got that right. It had to be him.

  ‘So you’ve never been in a relationship like this?’ said Keane.

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘You…you have? You’re very experienced, Maria says.’

  ‘Twenty years or more,’ he said. ‘I’ll lay my cards on the table – I’m not looking for play partners or short-term contracts any more. I want a submissive who belongs to me, and only me, for keeps. I’m looking to go into a new line of business, and I’ll need a steady partner – one who can act vanilla for the press, but be deeply kinky in private. How does that sound to you, Ellie?’

  ‘You…wow.’ This was even more serious than I’d been led to believe. It seemed he wanted a kind of consort – a political wife. ‘I’m twenty-three,’ I said, stupidly.

  ‘You’re young, yes,’ he conceded. ‘But that’s good. You’ll have less to unlearn.’

  ‘Unlearn?’

  ‘I’ve never found a sub that hasn’t got into some kind of bad habit that didn’t work for me,’ he said, toying with the artichoke salad Martin had put in front of him. ‘You don’t have any bad habits, because you don’t have any habits. I can give the right girl the world, Ellie. Do you want the world?’

  ‘I’ve never thought about it,’ I said.

  ‘Of course you haven’t. I like that.’ His eyes continued to bore into me like slate-grey drills. ‘But I’ll put it more prosaically. I’m well off. I can give you a life of luxury and comfort, where your only responsibility is pleasing me. And I won’t be unreasonable, like some of these selfish youngsters. I’m old and experienced enough to understand your needs and put them first. You’ll want for nothing, Ellie, and you’ll be kept well satisfied. How does that sound?’

  I stared down at the artichokes. What weird-looking things they were, all frilly and green in their bed of purple and white leaves. I’d only had them on pizzas in continental Europe before.

  ‘It sounds…too good to be true,’ I said.

  ‘It isn’t,’ he said.

  There was a long pause, while I tried to stave off the issue by trying an artichoke. It was quite nice, but I was finding it a little hard to swallow.

  ‘You, uh, you don’t beat around the bush, do you?’ I said, once I was able to speak again.

  ‘I don’t have any time for niceties or nonsense,’ said Keane. ‘I’ve got where I am by being clear about what I want and going for it. This is no different. I want you to agree to a trial run with me.’

  ‘A trial run? Ah. OK.’

  ‘I’m not asking you to sign your life away on the strength of one dinner,’ he said. At last, a smile, though it was uneasy. He didn’t strike me as a man accustomed to smiling much. ‘We’ll need to explore the chemistry a bit first. We can take it slowly, since you’re new, or we can take it fast if you’d rather. What do you say?’

  ‘How long is the trial run?’

  ‘Shall we say a week? You can come and stay with me. At the end of that week, you’re free to go. Or you can decide to stay.’

  I sought wisdom in my wine glass. Sadly, there was none to be found there.

  ‘I wonder,’ I said, almost too scared to ask. ‘Why did your last sub leave?’

  He looked ruffled, chewing on his artichoke with a thunderous face.

  ‘We had a difference of opinion,’ he said. ‘She wanted to be shared. I didn’t want to share.’

  But Mia had gone to The Academy to learn how to be shared. She had explicitly wanted it. Had this been against Keane’s will?

  ‘I want a one-man woman,’ he continued. ‘None of this mucking around with other Doms. Well, except Maria. I like to see that kind of show.’

  ‘If I agreed,’ I said, ‘would you send me somewhere, to learn, well, the ropes? So to speak.’

  ‘This again,’ exclaimed Maria. ‘She has a thing about going to sub school. If only such a place existed.’

  My skin prickled. Did Keane know something Maria didn’t? Perhaps he wouldn’t mention it in front of her.

  ‘You’ll learn everything you need from me,’ proclaimed Keane. ‘Trust me.’

  I tried not to let the cynical smile loose on my face. Trust him? The man whose sharky ways were bringing the city to its knees? Not likely.

  ‘It’s certainly an interesting idea,’ I said, my mind working hard. ‘And I think it would be interesting for lots of other people new to this…lifestyle. Would you mind if I blogged about it?’

  I held my breath.

  ‘I don’t hold with all this social media,’ he said, his voice a little lower and a lot more dangerous. ‘So no. I don’t want my life all over the internet. If you want to keep a personal diary, of course that’s up to you. But I’d ask you not to name names in it.’

  Could this be the reason for Mia’s disappearance? Keane had found out about her blog and vetoed it in panic? It seemed highly likely. But she wasn’t with him now – surely she could resurrect it, to chronicle her new, more swinging, phase of life?

  ‘Oh, OK,’ I said.

  ‘Martin,’ said Maria sharply. ‘These plates are empty. Please take them out and get the main courses from the ovens, please.’

  His leash swung over the table as he collected our plates, then left with them. Was he hungry? He hadn’t eaten a thing so far.

  ‘So, Ellie.’ Keane’s authoritative voice brought my attention right back to him. ‘Do we give this a go?’

  ‘Well, why not?’ I said, whilst a carousel of reasons why not swirled in my mind. ‘If it doesn’t work out, at least I might have learned something.’

  ‘Good girl,’ he said, smiling, and my stomach dropped a little. Something in those words, in that tone, really worked for me, just as it had when Tom said it. Was I really no more sophisticated than one of Pavlov’s dogs?

  He reached across the table to take my hand. I thought he meant to shake on the deal, but instead he raised my fingers to his lips and kissed them, while Maria clapped with excitement.

  ‘Oh, how lovely,’ she enthused. ‘I do hope this is the start of something special for you both. Poor J has been desperate for the right girl to come along for such an age now.’

  So Mia hadn’t pleased him? How strange that she’d given such glowing reports of their relationship in her blog. Perhaps she had been bowled over and failed to read the signs. Like me, with Tom.

  ‘I’ll get a contract drawn up,’ said Keane, and my heart nearly stopped.

  ‘A…contract?’

  ‘Yes. Legally witnessed by Maria and Martin here. I have a lawyer friend who’s done me a few.’

  ‘A contract?’ I repeated, still feeling as if I’d been tossed overboard into freezing water.

  ‘Don’t look so worried. Just a few clauses – non-disclosure, that kind of thing.’

  ‘Non-disclosure?’

  ‘For reasons that’ll become obvious once you know me better, I can’t have you going and running your mouth off about what we get up to together. It’s nothing. Private lives are private, I hope you agree.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘So the contract just puts that thought into writing.’

  ‘OK. So it doesn’t make me, like, your property, or anything like that?’

  ‘Of course not. Slavery isn’t legal in this country, in case you didn’t know.’

/>   I blushed, and muttered, ‘I did know that.’

  Martin returned with a dish so fancy I couldn’t have named any of the components. Maria told us it was pheasant with parmentier potatoes and wild straw mushrooms, in a jus of something I’d never heard of.

  We settled down to eat, and the conversation died away as Maria and Martin provided a floor show for us. She fed him titbits with her fingers and he wolfed them down like a dog, kneeling up with his spine straight. Maria had the leash held tight, and Martin thanked her humbly for every morsel. It didn’t look like fun to me, but the lump in his boxers was hard to ignore, and got lumpier still when Maria started to call him names and mock him.

  ‘Delicious meal, Maria,’ said Keane, laying his cutlery down on his empty plate. ‘As always.’

  He was looking at me as he said it. He’d watched me assiduously through every mouthful. I’d been trying to keep my eyes on Maria and Martin, but my senses had been shrieking all the way through, telling me I had some pretty fierce attention.

  ‘Yes, it was lovely,’ I added.

  ‘Thank you.’ Maria beamed at us both. ‘Now, I think Martin here needs a little bit of obedience training before pudding, so perhaps you’d excuse us for a little while. Please help yourselves to more wine.’

  She got up and dragged Martin after her into the living room.

  I watched them for too long, reluctant to look back at Keane and accept that we’d been left alone for a reason.

  ‘Would you like a collar and leash of your own?’ he asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

  I laughed weakly, but didn’t turn and face him.

  ‘Oh…I don’t know about that.’

  ‘Look at me,’ he commanded.

  I couldn’t disobey him. I twisted my neck unwillingly back, thinking that he’d see my fear, my unease, my…guilt.

  ‘That’s better,’ he said. ‘You’ll need to learn not to hide yourself from me. Real submission involves having your defences stripped away. Believe me, Ellie, I’ll have you under my hand so quickly your head’ll spin.’

  ‘When are you going to do the contract?’ I asked.

  ‘Monday. You can meet me at my solicitor friend’s office and we’ll sign right away.’

  ‘That’s tomorrow,’ I said, not that it needed pointing out.

  ‘That’s tomorrow,’ he nodded. ‘But before you sign on the dotted line, Maria’s tactfully given us a bit of time alone, to get used to each other. I suggest we use it to the full.’

  ‘What do you…?’

  ‘Stand up.’

  Again, his tone brooked no refusal and I was halfway up from my seat before I even thought to question it.

  ‘I like your outfit,’ he said, leaning back in his chair and looking me up and down. ‘Take off the jacket.’

  Lightheaded, I shrugged it off to reveal my corset in all its glory. Keane’s natural authority made this easier for me. All I had to do was obey without thinking. Not thinking was something of a luxury.

  ‘Did you dress up like that for me?’ he asked. ‘Turn around. I want to see your behind in that tight skirt. Oh, yes.’

  Apparently it met with his approval.

  ‘What are you wearing under the skirt?’ he asked. ‘No, don’t tell me. Show me.’

  Christ, was I really doing a submissive striptease for the bent leader of the local council? The slow, sinuous progress of my skirt over my hips and thighs answered my question. I couldn’t see him now, but I could imagine – almost feel – his eyes burning into my black lace knickers and stocking tops.

  ‘Oh, that’ll do nicely,’ he breathed, as the skirt fell in a glossy puddle at my feet. ‘Bend over.’

  What? I looked quickly over my shoulder, as if asking if he really meant it. His expression was granite stern. He meant it.

  I pivoted at the waist, feeling the corset cup my breasts tightly, forbidding their natural inclination to swing free. Elasticated lace stretched over my buttocks, revealing more skin. My suspenders tautened, pressing into my thighs. I became aware of wetness between my legs, and felt dirty. Unfaithful. My mind apologised to Tom for the sluttiness of my body.

  ‘Spread your legs a little,’ said Keane, and I moved my high-heeled feet a few inches further apart. ‘Now bend right over – touch your toes, that’s it – and hold the position for as long as you can.’

  It wasn’t likely to be very long, I thought, swaying already on my shiny black pumps. My muscles were strained from calf to backside, and I could feel the blood rush to my face.

  I heard Keane’s chair scrape back on the terracotta-tiled floor, and his heavy footsteps approaching. I was just about to topple when he put one hand between my shoulder blades and held me steady.

  ‘You’ll be able to stand like this for much longer after you’ve had a bit of practice,’ he said. ‘And you’ll be taking the cane in this position, too.’

  ‘I’ve never been caned,’ I said nervously.

  ‘No. But you will be.’ His other hand landed on my bottom, rubbing it slowly in a circular motion. ‘You’ll have long red lines all the way across here. You’ll feel them for days.’

  Mia had said that the cane was J’s favourite. I recalled a drawing of her voluptuous rear, neatly striped with twelve red lines while she stood in a corner with her hands on her head. The hair she had drawn was not like that woman, Olivia’s, hair. But then, perhaps it was fantasy hair. In art, we can be who we want to be.

  ‘But you won’t cane me straightaway, will you?’ I asked. My ears were rushing now and my voice sounded thick.

  ‘I’ll work up to it,’ he promised. His fingers tightened on my neck, gripping me tight, then a smack like a gunshot cracked into the air. It took me a second to catch up with the realisation that he had just spanked my bum.

  ‘Ouch,’ I said, but more in surprise than pain, even though it was quite painful.

  ‘I couldn’t resist that beautiful arse,’ he said, rubbing where he had caused a patch of heat to rise on my right buttock. ‘You like a spanking, don’t you?’

  ‘I think so,’ I said. ‘I mean, I wouldn’t be here if…’

  ‘Exactly. Shall we get comfortable?’

  He straightened me up and led me to his chair. I knew I was going to end up draped over his knee, and I did, so the word ‘comfortable’ was relative. But his broad lap was well fitted to my torso, and I felt strangely secure in my peril.

  I was taking one for the team. The Tom team. The thought sustained me through the spanking that followed. It was mild, compared to some of what Tom had dished out, but Keane’s hand was large and heavy and he had me well reddened in no time.

  ‘Thought you’d get dolled up for me, did you?’ growled Keane as he worked my bottom until sparks flew. ‘Thought you’d parade your little lacy knickers and stockings in front of me? Well, you’re getting what’s coming to you, you little tease.’

  Between cracking spanks that must have been audible in the next street, and my pathetic little cries, I could hear the sound of crockery being loaded into a dishwasher, and the occasional raising of Maria’s voice. She laughed, then there was a male yelp.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Keane, halting in his onslaught to rub my bottom, then push his fingers inside the elastic. ‘I think you have enormous potential.’

  His big hand explored my hot bottom, then moved lower. I twisted my ankles, squirming all over. This was getting very intimate very quickly. But I was undeniably wet and I wanted to feel his firm fingers between my eager lips. I wanted the choice taken away from me. I wanted the pure sensation of submission.

  I soon got it. He pushed his fingers into my pussy, making an inchoate noise of satisfaction at how wet he found it.

  ‘Oh, a bad little sub,’ he murmured, pressing and massaging, finding my clit and making me sigh with pleasure. ‘Do you know what I do with subs who get off on a spanking?’

  ‘No,’ I whispered, and a hard, sharp smack fell on my hot cheeks.

  ‘No, sir,’ he said reprovingly.


  ‘No, sir. Oh.’ He pushed two fingers inside me, probing deeply. They slid inside as if I were buttered.

  ‘I do this first,’ he whispered. ‘Then, after you’ve come, when you’re still sweaty and confused, I punish you. And that’s when you really feel it.’

  ‘That’s…cruel,’ I whimpered, but my thoughts were spiralling up into nonsense, consumed by the way my climax inched closer and closer with each considered movement of his fingers.

  ‘Cruel to be kind,’ he said, increasing the pressure. ‘That’s what I’m going to be with you, Ellie.’

  This dizzying thought tipped me over. Shame, lust and a bedrock of submission right at my core fuelled a climax that left me gasping for air.

  ‘Because that’s what you really want,’ he said, his voice thick with satisfaction, his hands withdrawing from my knickers, which were ruined with juices and might as well be ripped off me.

  I was too tattered to think straight, but I tried. Was it really what I wanted? Would I be happy to submit to Judd Keane in the way he seemed to expect? There were no two ways about it – he seemed like a super-skilled Dom and life with him would certainly be exciting.

  But he’s a bad man, my conscience insisted. And he isn’t Tom. You’re doing this for Tom.

  ‘Now then,’ he said, pulling me off his lap and manipulating me on to my knees between his legs.

  He began to unbutton his trousers. I could see where this was heading.

  ‘You’re going to thank me for giving you what you needed,’ he informed me.

  I watched, unable to move, as he rearranged his underclothes so that a large, springy cock escaped their confines.

  ‘Nice and slow, now,’ he ordered, lifting my chin with imperious fingers. ‘And no spitting. Let’s see how you do.’

  I sucked him until my eyes watered and my jaw ached. He seemed to hold back deliberately, enjoying my discomfort, although he stroked my face as I worked, which made me feel keen to do my best. It was a nice trick.

  ‘That’s it, show me how much you love to suck it,’ he prompted. My throat was nearly dry, my eyes rolling back in my head. I rocked my whole body backwards and forwards in rhythm with my mouth, moaning vibrations on to his cock, urging him to shoot into my throat.