by Ashe Barker
Jodie shook her head. “Nothing is going on. You’re reading too much into it.”
“Cut the bullshit,” he snapped. “We both know you could have walked that match today.”
Jodie opened her mouth then shut it again. There was no point in denying it. “I’m tired, that’s all.”
“Okay, so why are you tired? You said you weren’t sleeping well. Why?”
She sighed. He really wasn’t going to let this go. “I don’t know. Stress?”
“What do you have to be stressed about?” he persisted. “You’re at the peak of your game, the best there is. I’ve watched old footage of the competitions you took part in before I became your coach and you showed no signs of stress or tiredness then. Why now?”
“Maybe it’s just knowing the Olympic selectors are watching?”
“All the more reason for you to shine. Is it anything to do with you and me?”
Jodie stared at him in shock. “What do you mean?”
His expression softened a little. “I’m wondering if the fact that I’m not only your trainer, but also your lover and dom is putting too much pressure on you. We agreed at the beginning that if—”
“Stop right there, Dylan. That is ridiculous. Why on earth should our relationship affect my taekwondo?”
“I don’t know, but I can’t think of anything else.”
“If there is one thing I am absolutely certain about, it’s you. I swear that us going out has nothing to do with any of this. Even when you punish me,” she finished, giving him a small grin.
“Talking of which…”
“Yeah, I know, you’re going to punish me again. That’s fine.”
A shadow crossed over Dylan’s face. “I don’t like the way you talk as if it’s some sort of joke. I can assure you that it’s not supposed to be funny.”
The steel in his voice sent a chill through her. Dylan was a dom who took discipline seriously, which was one of the things she liked about him. It made their D/s relationship so much more real and meaningful. She hadn’t meant to be so flippant, especially as they were about to discuss what he was going to do to her. “I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”
Dylan stared at her for a few torturous seconds then finally his face relaxed. “Apology accepted. Going back to our discussion about your punishment, I’ve decided to take a different approach this time.”
There was something in his voice that made Jodie uneasy. What did he mean by a different approach? Surely things couldn’t get any worse than the ginger?
“Spanking you doesn’t seem to be making any difference. You say you’ve learnt your lesson yet you still don’t seem to change your behaviour.”
Jodie opened her mouth to protest, but Dylan held up his hand to silence her.
“It struck me while I was out running that nearly all our kink experiences so far have been in the form of negative pain. Maybe it’s time for something that will be more enjoyable—well, at least for me.”
“Er, that sounds ominous. What did you have in mind, Sir?”
“You’ll see. Here’s our food so we won’t talk about it anymore, but when we get back to our room, I want you naked and on your knees. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” said Jodie, instantly melting at Dylan’s firm command.
An hour later, Jodie was kneeling on the floor in their room, naked just like Dylan had demanded. Her head was bowed and her hands clasped together behind her. Dylan sat on the edge of the bed, fully clothed, watching her.
“Stand up then come here and lay yourself over my lap.”
Jodie obeyed, feeling a little apprehensive of the punishment she knew she was about to get. What had he meant earlier when he’d said he was going to try a different approach? She’d tried to look for an implement, particularly a cane, but so far she hadn’t spotted anything that he might use. The toy bag seemed to have disappeared. She adjusted herself to get more comfortable, but Dylan shoved her forward so that she had to put her hands on the floor to stop herself from slipping off. Her toes only just touched the floor and her ass was poised for his aim. She could have sworn he’d said at dinner that he wasn’t going to spank her, but it was becoming clear that that was exactly what he was about to do. She took a deep breath and braced herself for the first agonising smack. One thing she had learnt from Dylan when he punished her was that he never warmed her up first.
But when his hand made contact with her skin, it was as a soft and gentle stroke that traced the contours of her buttocks. She closed her eyes as his fingers shimmied down to her thighs then back up, leaving a trail of tingles in their wake. By the time he started to smack her, her jittery nerves had been replaced with contentment and even then he didn’t hit her very hard. It was more like a rhythmic tapping covering the whole of her ass and the backs of her legs. The force increased gradually, slowly letting her adjust to the heat building across her bottom. When the first real smack landed, she groaned—not from pain, but because of the delicious sting it left. Tears pooled in her eyes as it gradually dawned on her that this was a sensual spanking, aimed at pleasure rather than punishment. There would be pain, she knew that, but it would be the good sort that left her floating in contentment and horny as hell.
Dylan spanked her harder now and it was beginning to hurt, but Jodie welcomed the burn that seeped through her skin and warmed her blood. She jerked and cried out at the more intense whacks, especially the ones on the backs of her thighs, but she nevertheless wanted them to carry on forever. She stopped thinking and allowed herself to go with the flow of Dylan’s hand, embracing the scorching heat he inflicted on her. If he hadn’t warmed her up first, she would be screaming by now, writhing to get away from his brutal blows, but instead she drifted into a world where she was wrapped in cotton wool as the pain turned into something beautiful.
The spanking continued, getting so hard that her legs flailed in the air as fire raged across her skin. She was bordering on the point where she wasn’t sure how much more she could endure yet she didn’t want him to stop. “Please…” she begged, not sure what it was she was trying to say. Please stop or please don’t stop? She didn’t know and she didn’t care. Then another sensation merged with the intense agony. Every time Dylan’s hand seared another blow onto her ass, a shot of electricity shot straight to her clit, making it throb with an overwhelming need to be touched. By the time he slowed the onslaught and eventually stopped spanking her, she was so desperate for his cock that she ground herself against Dylan’s thigh in the hope that the friction would provide some relief.
“Are you horny, Jodie?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He ran his fingers along the crack of her ass, down to her wet and swollen folds then slid them over the entrance to her pussy. He thrust two fingers inside her, the force making her gasp, then swirled them around.
“Fuck,” she groaned. “Oh, Sir…”
He pulled them out again and gave her ass a hard slap. She moaned and pushed her pelvis into his lap. “Please fuck me,” she begged.
Dylan chuckled. “Okay, but there’s one condition.”
“What?”
“You’re not allowed to come.”
Her body tensed. “What?” Oh, no, not again.
“You heard. I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t know what’s hit you. When I come I’ll fill you to the hilt, make you scream, but you still won’t come because I won’t allow it.”
She nearly cried. So this was her punishment. She should have known that the spanking was too good to be true. He’d denied her orgasms before so she shouldn’t be surprised, but really? She wasn’t about to wimp out now, though. Anyway, maybe she could sneak a little orgasm in and pretend she just couldn’t help it.
“If you do come, you’ll regret it. I have a generous supply of fresh ginger in my fridge at home that I won’t hesitate to use on you again.”
Damn. “I won’t come, Sir.”
“Good girl. Now get off my lap then bend over on the
bed so I can get a good look at your gorgeous red ass while I fuck you.”
Jodie scrambled off Dylan’s lap then knelt on the bed and bent over, placing her head on the mattress so her ass was raised.
“Spread your legs,” ordered Dylan and smacked her thigh.
She yelped and quickly did as he’d said, opening them as far as she could. She closed her eyes as the sound of a zipper and the rustle of clothes told her that Dylan was taking his trousers off. There was a dip in the mattress behind her then the tip of Dylan’s cock circled through her wetness and hovered by her entrance. He gripped her hips then plunged his cock into her with such force that she cried out. Her muscles clamped onto him, squeezing him as she adjusted to his size. Pleasure zinged through her entire body as he started to pump her with hard, almost brutal thrusts. The rougher he was, the more she loved it. He let go of her right hip then grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, holding her in place as he fucked her harder. Within minutes, the tell-tale signs of an orgasm started to build. Jodie groaned. “Sir…” she cried.
“Think of the ginger, Jodie. Do. Not. Come.”
That helped. The wave subsided, at least for now. But it didn’t take long for it to build again and soon she was crying with the effort of keeping it at bay. She needed to come so badly that it hurt, and it was only because of her desperation to please Dylan that she managed to hold it off. She knew if he didn’t come soon, there would be nothing she could do to stop the explosion that was waiting deep inside her. The fuse was ready, the match lit, all it would take was for the flame to get closer and there would be no turning back. Think of the ginger. Her control was waning. She wouldn’t last much longer.
Then, finally, Dylan’s cock thickened inside her and he came with a groan as he pumped his hot cum into her pussy.
“Oh, God, pleeease,” she cried, as she fought off her own release. But the lack of permission from Dylan was enough to quell the storm raging within her. When he pulled out, she was left empty and quivering with need.
“Good girl,” said Dylan, giving her ass another slap.
“When can I come, Sir?” she whimpered.
“Not tonight. Not until I decide you deserve it. Answer me honestly, Jodie, do you deserve an orgasm tonight?”
Deflated, she shook her head. “No, Sir.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I fucked up today.”
“And?”
She frowned, puzzled. “I don’t know what you mean, Sir.”
“You won’t tell me what’s wrong. And don’t you dare say ‘nothing’ because I know something’s up. You get your orgasm when you decide to talk to me.”
Jodie scowled at him, her body screaming in protest. “But…”
“End of discussion. Now lie down next to me so I can cuddle you. You may not deserve an orgasm, but you’ll always get aftercare.”
“Have you any idea how much I want to kill you right now, Sir?” she groaned as she snuggled into his arms.
He chuckled. “I can imagine. You can come now if you’re honest with me.”
“I told you, nothing’s wrong,” she snapped.
“Oh, well, never mind. Now, be quiet and get some sleep. I want to head home early tomorrow so we can get back to training as soon as possible. I think you need to work off your frustrations in the dojang.”
* * *
Jodie bowed to Dylan as their session ended.
“Good work. Keep it up.”
“Yes, Sir.” Dripping with sweat, she headed off to the changing room. Dylan had been harsh during the training and she was exhausted. At least she had no energy left to dwell on her lack of orgasms. Just like the last time, he still hadn’t allowed her to come, more than a week later. It didn’t look like she would get relief any time soon because she sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him about George Hartwell. She could have snuck one in when she was home on her own, but he would know. He’d said he would be able to tell because of her behaviour and she believed him, so she put a picture of some ginger root on the table next to her bed every night as a deterrent.
When she returned to the training hall, Dylan was checking his phone. “Don’t forget you’ve got to attend a meeting at the bank tomorrow morning.”
Jodie scowled. “Damn. Is that tomorrow?”
“Yes. That’s not a problem, is it? You knew it was part of the sponsorship deal.”
“It’s not a problem at all, I was just hoping for some extra training, that’s all.”
Dylan grinned. “You’re really going for this, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely. Trust me, my competitors won’t know what’s hit them at the nationals next week.”
“Good. You might still be able to impress the selectors if you do your best. Remember, Jodie, you’re the most talented student I’ve ever had and I’m not just saying that because you’re my submissive and girlfriend. I mean it. You’ve got the potential to be world class, which is why I’m so hard on you. You know that, right?”
She stood on tiptoe and planted a kiss on his lips. “Yes, I do and I appreciate it. I won’t let you down, I promise.”
“Good girl. I can meet you for a session in the gym after you’ve finished at the bank tomorrow, if you fancy it?”
“That’ll be great. I don’t suppose there’s any chance of an orgasm as well, is there?”
“What do you think?” He laughed and swatted her ass.
“It was worth a try.”
“If you’re good and don’t pull any of your recent stunts at the nationals next week, I might consider it.”
“Oh, how kind of you, Sir.” She grinned and pretended to salute him.
The following morning she woke with a heavy heart. Just the thought of going anywhere near that bank was enough to put her in a bad mood.
Forty minutes later, a shiny black car pulled up outside her building. She sighed and checked her appearance in the mirror. She’d worn her suit again, with a pale blue blouse and black court shoes. Her straight blonde hair fell neatly onto her shoulders and the small amount of makeup she’d applied finished off the formal, corporate look. She took a photo of her reflection and texted it to Dylan along with a short message.
Off to the bank now. C u later. xx
The journey took longer than usual. The driver informed her there had been an accident earlier, which was having a knock-on effect on the traffic so she sat back in the plush seats and stared absently out of the window. When the car was about five minutes away from its destination, Jodie’s phone pinged. She read Dylan’s text and smiled to herself.
You look gorgeous. Remember, they’re only suits. Be yourself and tell them how brilliant you are. Xx
Today was different from the two events she had attended so far. Both times had been evening affairs, where people had mingled with champagne flutes in one hand and canapés in the other, but today she was going to be making a guest appearance at the bank’s board meeting. She was dreading it. What if they questioned her about her poor performance? Why don’t you ask your chairman, Mr. George Hartwell? Maybe he can explain why he has been blackmailing me to lose the competitions. Anyone would think he doesn’t want me to be selected for the Olympic team… A sharp pain in her hand made her look down. Her fists were clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her skin and were on the verge of drawing blood.
“Miss Price? We’ve arrived.” The driver got out and opened the passenger door for her.
“Thank you.” She climbed out and stared up at the imposing building. How she wished she had never come that first time.
In a daze, she signed in with security and was escorted to the second floor where she was told the board would be expecting her in ten minutes.
“It’s only an informal chat to keep the shareholders happy,” explained Cathy from the corporate hospitality and marketing department. “It’s been a while since the bank has invested in a sports personality so the board just want to ask you a few questions about your progress. You should be in and o
ut in less than ten minutes.”
Jodie’s mood lifted. “Oh, great. Can I leave after that?”
“Yes, of course, though as you’re the last item on the agenda before lunch, you’d be very welcome to stay.”
Not a chance. “Thank you.”
By the time the board were ready for her, Jodie was so nervous she thought she was going to be sick. She dreaded seeing Mr. Hartwell again, although at least if he was in a room full of his colleagues, he wasn’t likely to make another attempt to blackmail her.
“Are you ready?” whispered Cathy, as they waited outside the door to the boardroom.
“Yes.” Jodie cleared her throat then wiped her clammy hands on her trousers.
She stepped into a large room and stared at a sea of faces all looking at her from the circumference of a large oval table. At the top end sat Mr. Hartwell, smiling as if he was pleased to see her. She swallowed down her hatred and forced herself to smile back.
“Miss Price,” said Mr. Hartwell. He rose from his seat then walked round and shook her hand. “We’re delighted you could join us today. Do sit down.” He pulled a chair out for her, acting like a perfect gentleman.
“Thank you.” She sat down and placed her hands in front of her on the table.
A woman to her right picked up a pen and wrote something onto her notepad then turned to look at Jodie. “So Miss Price, tell us about your training schedule. I can imagine it must be quite intense.”
“Yes. I train every day for at least five hours, often more. That includes a gym workout and warmups before the actual situations and sparring can begin.”
“You’ve been tipped to make the Olympic team,” said a man sitting at the other end of the table. “Tell us what makes you believe you will be selected.”
Jodie raised her head and looked directly at Mr. Hartwell. “I’ve been winning nearly every match I’ve fought in and have been the top points scorer in the UK for over a year. My coach believes I’m the fastest and strongest opponent outside of the present team and the most likely to be selected to join the Tokyo squad.”
