“I’ll bend, Maggie. Or at least I’ll try. Use a slow word if I don’t. Communicate with me. I need you to meet me halfway. Don’t make me guess what’s wrong when you have an issue with something I’ve requested.”
“That’s a tall order, Sir.”
“You told me earlier you’ve been on your own for years. You can do this.”
She sighed. “You’re right, Mr Tomlinson.”
They cleared the table together. She loaded the dishwasher while he put away the leftover salad.
“How are you feeling?” he asked her afterwards.
“A bit uncertain.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “We scened, fucked, ate.”
“Are you afraid I’ll make you snuggle up and watch racing or something like that on television?”
She laughed.
“I’ve got plenty more in store for you. You haven’t seen the basement yet.”
Her eyes widened.
“Open that door,” he told her. “And go on down. I’ll join you in a minute.” He grabbed a couple of bottles of water, wanting her to have time to explore the area on her own.
The area was finished, and it was large. He’d had the pool table removed and had taken out several walls for his exercise space. While he’d been at it, he’d asked Master Marcus to design some unobtrusive pieces that no one would consider kinky. Now that she was here, David was glad he’d had the foresight to do that. He looked forward to their mutual introduction to Master Marcus’ creation.
Earlier in the day, David had moved aside his workout machines and weight bench, leaving the area vacant for their use.
“I don’t get it,” she said when he came downstairs. “It’s a nice space, but…”
“It doesn’t look like a dungeon?”
“Not at all.”
“Pull that tapestry off the wall.”
She did. “Ah. Hmm.” She took a step back and studied the pieces of wood attached to the wall. “Interesting.” She placed the tapestry on the floor and rolled it up. “Sorry. I still don’t get it.”
“It serves the same purpose as a St Andrew’s cross.”
Maggie looked again, closer. “Oh! Clever.”
He thought so, too. The structure was about six feet in width and height. Holes were drilled at strategic intervals for placement of hooks, meaning a sub could be attached wherever the Dom desired. Even the individual slats could be removed or not, as David saw fit. Since it didn’t have an official name, he called it the Cavendish, in honour of its designer.
“Devious,” she added. “No one would ever know it’s down here.”
He opened the top of a bench—another of Marcus’ designs. The furniture had been installed beneath a window. Guests who opened it would find a blanket and a remote control for the television and sound system. The upper tray was removable, and his stash of toys was stored beneath.
“Your personality is like this room, isn’t it?” she observed. “You’d never expect what’s beneath the exterior.”
“I’m the same on the inside and the outside.”
“Uh-huh. Sorry, Mr Tomlinson. Not buying it. You are much deeper, more concerned about things and people—me—than you let on.”
“You have it wrong, Maggie. I assure you.”
“Whatever you say, Sir.”
He glanced at her.
“I’m agreeing with you, Mr Tomlinson.” She shrugged. “As always.”
“You’re incorrigible, Maggie.”
She flashed him a cheeky grin.
“Would you prefer I flog your back or front?” He nodded, selecting a flogger with broad straps so he could give her a long, sound beating.
Her smile faded, and she took in a sharp breath, not from fear, he sensed, but from unfurling anticipation.
She kept an eye on him as he shook it out. “Whatever Sir prefers,” she said.
This time, sincerity was etched in her words.
He laid the implement aside and took out hooks, clamps, ties, restraints, lube and even a medium-sized butt plug.
“I guess you weren’t kidding that we wouldn’t be watching television,” she said.
“Not a chance.”
“All that for tonight?”
“Do you have something better to do?”
“Ah. No, Mr Tomlinson.”
“Come here, please.” He put cuffs on her wrists. They weren’t his preferred metal ones, but the fabric ones would work better for his purposes. Not that it really mattered. He just liked having her in them. He knelt to secure a second pair to her ankles. “You’ll be helpless in less than five minutes.”
“I’m already tied up inside,” she said, her voice so soft he hardly heard it.
So was he. He hadn’t expected that. He didn’t know how to respond. Before he completely lost the ability to think, he picked up four hooks. “Stand with your back against the structure.”
In front of him, she looked so small, but he knew how tough she was. She’d taken everything he’d given, and she’d done it with impressive stoicism. “Please raise your arms.” He stepped back to look at her relative to the Cavendish then repositioned her. “Now spread your legs. Keep your feet flat on the floor, as I don’t want to strain any of your muscles.” He repeated the procedure and double-checked each distance before inserting the hooks into pre-drilled holes. “You may step away.”
She frowned.
“There are a few things I want to do to you before I start the flogging,” he explained. “That was mechanical, and I want you in a different mental state before my leather meets your skin. Let’s start with some clamps.” He handed her a pair. “Put them on.”
“Me? You want me to do it to myself? That seems like you’re asking me to tie my own noose.”
“You play with this type all the time. Quit stalling.”
Without further complaint, she tugged on her left nipple, pinching it, squeezing it.
“I could watch you do that all day.”
She continued long after the nipple had hardened.
“You’re doing that to aggravate me,” he said.
“Not at all. I’m trying to please you, Mr Tomlinson.”
“Don’t forget who will be holding the flogger.”
She looked up at him through her long lashes, but she didn’t stop toying with her nipple.
“Put the clamp on it,” he snapped, the words almost sounding like a growl.
Rather than being intimidated, she laughed. She squeezed her aureole between her thumb and forefinger of her left hand, making the nipple protrude. He knew she was very much aware of his interest, and she took her sweet time opening the pincer and guiding it towards her nipple.
She placed the clamp and sucked in a shocked breath.
“More than you expected?” he asked.
“Hell and back. Yes, Sir.”
“Is it more than you can bear?”
“If it pleases you, Sir, I can take it.”
In his pants, his cock felt hot and heavy. Once she stepped away from her inhibitions, her sexual power quadrupled. She could ask for anything and he’d crawl through shards of metal to get it for her.
“Shall I do the other one now, Mr Tomlinson?”
An internal debated raged inside him. Touching her might be lethal. Watching her play with herself would lead him to fuck her before they’d even started. “I’ll do it.”
The little vixen pouted. Everything she did made his desire rise to flash point.
He followed her lead, plumping her breast, abrading her nipple with his callused fingertip. She moaned and allowed her head to fall backwards. Her hair streamed down her back in waves of untamed abandon.
David pinched her nipple and pulled it away from her body before releasing the clamp to bite it.
She fisted her hands and he saw her fingernails dig into her palms. He considered removing the clovers, but he remained silent and waited for her to use her safe word.
By slow measures, she uncurled her fingers and looked at him. �
�Thank you, Sir.”
This woman was tough, all right. “They won’t seem as bad in a while.” Until he yanked on them. By then, he hoped she was so far gone in her delirium that she would be able to ignore the pain in favour of its crashing arousal.
With his foot, he slid an exercise mat towards her. “Kneel and present your ass for my plug.”
“Of course, Mr Tomlinson,” she whispered.
Her movements were beautiful as she stepped onto the mat and knelt. After a glance at him, she lowered herself the rest of the way to the floor, her ass high in the air. He noticed she didn’t flatten her breasts. He’d see to that in a minute. “Reach back and spread your ass cheeks for me, Maggie.” That forced her to adjust her position a bit, and she yelped.
He kept her waiting while he lubed the piece. He drizzled the excess liquid into the crack between her ass cheeks before teasing her tightest entrance with the blunt end of the plug. “I love doing this to you,” he said. “Stretching you. That’s it, bear down.”
She relaxed her muscles and he inserted the piece a bit more before pulling it out.
“I’ve never had a glass plug before.”
“What do you think?”
“It doesn’t give,” she said around a grunt as he proceeded to push it back in.
“Not like silicone,” he agreed. “Neither does stainless, but this is bigger than the one I used on you at the Den since I intend to fuck you up your ass later.”
She shuddered and released her grip on her butt cheeks.
“Compose yourself at once,” he snapped.
“Aww. God! Sorry, Mr Tomlinson.”
“Better,” he said when she was back in position. Then showing no mercy, deciding to get it over with, he shoved it the rest of the way in with a gentle but firm glide.
She panted and yelped.
“It’s in. Feel free to stop the dramatics.” Avoiding her hands, he gave her right buttock a sharp smack to reinforce his words.
He stood and walked around her, admiring the way she looked with her ass in the air, a plug protruding from her anus. Her body was all feminine curves and beauty. “When you’re ready, please take your place at the wall.”
Her motions were exaggeratedly slow as she stood. The plug and the clamps hampered her movements. That her interest in BDSM matched his was the stuff of fantasies. After Sandy, he’d given up the hope of finding someone who would complement him in bed as well as out of it.
He attached her cuffs to the hooks, spreading her body wide. “Would you like a gag or would you rather scream the house down?”
“Those are big words, Mr Tomlinson.”
“I’ll back them up.” He’d heard the teasing note in her retort. Interesting that he already recognised the difference in her tone when something was bothering her and when she was goading him to give her everything she wanted. “Lower your head and open your mouth.”
She drew her eyebrows together but did as she was told. He picked up the chain that dangled between her clamps and placed it between her teeth. “Don’t let go.”
Her eyes were wide. Every movement would drag on the chain. He hoped it would be an experience she’d never forget. “How are you doing, sub?” he asked, tucking wayward strands of her hair behind her ears.
She murmured something, turning her cheek against his hand for comfort.
He stepped away from her, and she tracked him with her gaze. In that position, she was hobbled and gagged and about to endure something he was willing to bet she’d never dealt with before.
David picked up his flogger and approached her. “Let go of that chain at any time to signal that the scene is too much.”
In his cuffs, she formed a circle with her thumb and index finger, indicating everything was okay. “I’ll start slow.”
With a back-and-forth flicking motion, he flogged her belly and pelvis, shifting his stance so he could catch her already-swollen labia.
She moaned and pulled against the restraints, but she didn’t release the chain, and she kept her hand curled in the same position.
He fell into a rhythm as he went up and down her lower torso. She closed her eyes in total surrender. He continued with the same motions, using more or less the same amount of pressure, letting her know what to expect. This was about nothing other than her pleasure.
Then, wanting to strike her breasts with more force and not worry about touching her face, he transferred the multi-strand whip to his left hand. “Let it go,” he told her, reaching for the chain.
She did and said, “Thank you.”
“Your manners are exquisite.” He resumed the beating with more vigour, searing her breasts and jostling the clamps to the point she whimpered from the pain.
Her face flushed and perspiration covered her body.
“You’ve got some beautiful marks,” he said. “You may not see them by Monday, but you’ll enjoy them for the rest of the night and, I’m guessing, all of tomorrow.” He hadn’t paused, and she hadn’t asked him to. Rather, she’d allowed her head to rest against the slats behind her.
Was Maggie nearing subspace again, and so fast?
Damn, her ability to shove aside everything else, but the moment astounded him. He understood how this could be cathartic to her, satisfying her in a way that exercise did for him. No wonder she looked forward to her outings at the Den. Subspace wasn’t a vague idea to her, it was a destination she headed for.
He kept her there for a while, criss-crossing her body and leaving behind vivid streaks of red. She allowed the restraints to take more of her weight as she leaned into the lashing. He spoke to her non-stop, and two minutes after her last verbal response, he eased off, lengthening the time between blows and softening the impact. “Stay where you are,” he told her. “I’ve got you.”
After tossing aside the flogger, he unfastened her ankles, then released her wrists. Her body sagged, and he caught her in his embrace, carrying her up the stairs to the living room. Still holding her, he sat on the couch. He debated what to do about her clamps before deciding to leave them in place. Soon they’d become uncomfortable enough for her to remove them herself.
Smoothing her hair and holding her tight, he matched her breathing. Then, when they were in synch, he led her into a shallower pattern.
She began to stir. He couldn’t make out her first words, but it didn’t matter. Before long, she reached for the clamps, but she lacked the fine motor skills to release the tips. He brushed aside her hands and removed both at the same time.
“Yowzer,” she said, punctuating the word with a short yelp.
“Welcome back.”
“You’re worse than an alarm clock,” she told him. “I’m hitting the snooze button.”
He grinned as she settled against him again.
She was quiet for so long, he began to wonder if she was asleep. A few minutes later she said, “That was spectacular.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. So did I. No real lingering pain from the beating?”
“Not at all. My body feels like it’s glowing,” she said. “This might sound odd, but I’m relaxed, and I’m invigorated at the same time.”
“Go on.”
“I don’t go there all the time, but I like to. You’re particularly skilled at what you do.” She looked at him. “I think I had my eyes closed during the flogging.”
“You did.”
“It’s strange.”
She stopped and started, explaining things in fragments, and he allowed her to talk at her own pace without interruption.
“Once I stop fighting, let my body accept it, everything seemed brighter. Not just light, but a blinding white. Sounds… They seem to be a million miles away. I hear you when you say my name. But otherwise… The real world has no distinction. I guess it’s like being in a swimming pool.” She was silent before adding. “Thank you for the experience.”
“Pleasing you matters to me, Maggie mine.”
She was quiet again for a long time, and he skimmed a thin r
ed stripe that marred her shoulder.
“I think I should buy stock in a company that manufactures arnica.”
“I don’t mind skipping it.”
“Sorry. That’s not an option.”
“I want to keep a couple of marks so I can remember the experience.”
And get her through the time to the next scene? “We can talk about that. But I won’t have you walking around with painful bruises.”
“Spoilsport, Mr Tomlinson.”
“A Dom, Ms Carpenter. Your Dom.”
She exhaled a long-suffering sigh and protested, “Just because you have me in a collar—”
“And cuffs.”
“And cuffs,” she repeated.
“And in my house.”
“Are you done yet?” She pursed her lips. “None of that means you get to boss me around.”
“Yes. I’m afraid it does.”
She looked up and dug her hand into his hair. It was her first real, intimate gesture, and it meant something powerful to him. She trailed her fingers down his cheekbone and settled on his chin. “You’re insufferable, Sir.”
Insufferable enough, evidently, for her to move her hand lower to stroke his biceps.
“I’m glad,” she admitted.
He raised his eyebrows.
“There’s a certain comfort in that,” she said. “Which I wouldn’t admit if I hadn’t had that wonderful experience. If you bring it up again, I’ll deny I said it.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.”
“Keep that arm in flogging order for me, will you?”
“Your wish is my command, princess.”
“Do you need arnica for your wrist?”
“After your next spanking, I might.” He upended her, tossing her over his lap.
“You wouldn’t!” She brought her hands back to protect her butt.
He swatted them aside, and before she could protest, he plucked the plug from her anus.
“That was diabolical.”
“That averted a pointless debate,” he countered. He eased her from his lap and went into the powder room. He brought back a washcloth and cleansed her before returning to the bathroom.
In His Cuffs Page 14
