With This Collar (18 page)

“If you think about pleasing another, you can transcend your own feelings. That there are certain things you do because you want to please your Dom.”

“Having you leashed pleases me. Are you willing to try this rather than fighting me?”

“You are doing this intentionally,” she said. She pursed her luscious lips, and he watched understanding dawn on her face. “You want to do this because of what I said at Master Damien’s house. About Lana. About that submissive. And because of our earlier conversation about humiliation. You’re trying to prove a point.”

“That’s part of it,” he conceded. “But also, I do think you look beautiful this way, as I knew you would. This is only a humiliating experience if you allow it to be one. But you alone have the power, Julia. You can stop this any time.”

He waited her out. Eventually she got on her hands and knees. “Follow me,” he said. He moved quickly, forcing her to crawl faster than she had earlier. It would give her less time to think, and that was definitely in the plus column.

At first, she barely kept up, and the leather was pulled taut. But when he didn’t relent, she moved a bit faster, creating some slack.

In the kitchen, he paused near the sink. He waited until she found the furniture wipes, then said, “I’ll carry them.” He didn’t want her struggling with the container. “This time, I want you in front of me. Keep up a good pace, or you’ll feel my wrath.” He liked watching her movements. Lord help him, but he might keep her this close to him at all times.

The dining room table was a mess from her tears, hands, knees and her orgasm. He wasn’t sure he’d ever enjoyed a sight more.

He unclipped the leash and stood near a wall, resting his shoulders and watching her.

Her motions were efficient, but methodical.

Unless he was entertaining, he generally did his own housework. He found it restorative, and it was a project he could start and finish, unlike some of his construction jobs that took weeks or months. He liked the instant gratification of making his space look better. But after watching her move around in her lingerie, leaning over the table, he might rethink hiring a housekeeper, but not just anyone—Julia.

Within a few minutes, she had the table back to its original state. He nodded towards a spot on the floor, and she knelt without protest. He appreciated that she’d understood his silent command and that she’d done as he wanted so quickly. She was more perfect than he’d dared hope.

He pocketed her discarded thong then slid the chairs back under the table, but he left the candles and glass vase on the sideboard just in case he wanted to use her as a centrepiece. “Please put my belt back on me.”

She picked up the leather strip and crawled to him. He noticed her fingers were a little unsteady as she fed it through the loops. She struggled with the buckle, and, helpless male that he was, he let her. Damn, he wanted to sheathe his cock in her. “Now, put your shoes back on.”

Without standing, she managed to do so. “You’ve done well,” he told her. “I’m going to put you back on the leash, and you’re going to put away the furniture wipes.”

She didn’t protest as she figured out how to crawl while holding the plastic container. Once he’d put it away and had closed the kitchen cupboard he said, “Since we’re now going upstairs, I’ll give you the choice. You may stand or you may crawl. There’s no right or wrong decision,” he assured her. “You won’t be punished. And I have no preference. Either way, you’ll be in front of me, and I’ll be able to see your ass.”

“In that case, Sir, I’d like to walk.”

He offered his hand. She stood, and he drew her against him. She leaned into him, her head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her.

It had been a long time since he’d held a woman. He liked having her snuggled against him. Over the last few years, he’d spent a lot of time avoiding getting involved in another consuming relationship. He now realised he’d missed some simple things about sharing space… Things like this, her warmth, the light floral scent of her shampoo, and her total trust.

She eventually moved away, and she pulled her hair into a mock ponytail before letting it go.

“After you,” he said. She led the way upstairs, one hand curved around the banister, and he enjoyed the view of her creamy, punished buttocks.

At the top of the stairs she paused, and he said, “First room on your left.” Because he could, he took hold of her leash about halfway down, restricting her movements.

He’d left the door open so that she’d immediately see the St Andrew’s cross he’d had constructed for her.

His spanking implements were on a wall, behind frosted glass that had been etched with his company’s eagle logo. He’d had glass shelving installed on another wall, and he’d laid out his floggers on top of them. A couple of whips were arranged on hooks, their leather lengths fully coiled. Several crops and canes were attached to the wall, all horizontally so he could easily see their length and composition. Restraints and clamps were arranged in velvet-lined drawers.

“Oh, Jesus,” she whispered, coming to an immediate stop.

“A few days ago this room was empty. I designed it for you.”

She looked over her shoulder at him.

“Seriously,” he said. “You’ll notice the cross, built for your frame since you’re taller than most women.” He’d had the structure stained with a light pine gloss that would easily wipe clean. “There are also hooks attached to the walls and ceilings. Basically, I can tie you or suspend you virtually anywhere.”

She glanced at each but said nothing.

He had also selected a sturdy chair, as well as a spanking bench that could be adjusted into a number of different positions, including one that was perfect for blistering a submissive’s bottom.

He nudged her across the threshold. He removed the collar from her neck, taking the leash with it. “Stand over there.” She seemed to do better when he issued instructions, and that worked well for both of them as he definitely liked giving direction.

She remembered to pull back her shoulders and look straight ahead. For several seconds, he said nothing, letting her find her composure. When her breathing evened, he said, “Remove your clothes. You can put them on that shelf over there, and then stand in front of the cross. Face towards me.”

While she undressed, he turned on a small space heater to ensure she didn’t get cold and selected a flogger. He flicked it several times to test its weight and responsiveness.

He left the flogger handy while he affixed her to the cross. He was looking forward to this experience. Her backside was already red. Now her front would match. “You look every bit as wonderful as I imagined you might.”

Her chest rose and fell, showing her state of nerves.

“I want you to be very clear that this isn’t a punishment. This flogging is intended to arouse you. I want to give you an experience tonight. So if it becomes too much, stop it immediately.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Have you ever worn nipple clamps?”

“No,” she whispered.

“We’ll start with a tweezer style. They’re not my favourite because they come off too easily. But they’ll be a good introduction for you.” He opened a drawer then took out a pair. He draped the chain over his index finger.

She stared at them. “I thought you said this was meant to turn me on.”

“Go with it.” He cupped her left breast then sucked her nipple into his mouth, laving the bud, making it hard.

He smelt her arousal.

She strained against her bonds.

“Very sensitive little breasts,” he said. “I love them.” He pinched the nipple again, and she cried out. He placed the clamp then tightened it a bit so it stayed in place, but with only light pressure. “How’s that?”

“I expected something much worse,” she said with a sigh. “I’m kind of wondering what the fuss is all about.”

He smiled. She’d find out.

He repeated the process with her right tit.

When she was clamped, he stepped back and gently tugged on the chain. She winced slightly.

“How does that feel?”

“It hurts, just a little, Sir.”

“Let’s see if this helps.” He stroked between her legs.

“Oh. Yes! That helps. That’s… The pain in my nipples makes your hand feel more intense.”

“Now tell me how this is.” He tightened the clamps.

She cried out and strained against her bonds. “I understand what the fuss is about,” she said around a whimper. “That hurts, really bad!”

“And this will hurt even more.” He ratcheted up the tension, squeezing into her nipple hard.

“I can’t take that, Sir!”

“Of course you can. And more.” He increased the pressure a tiny bit more.

She was panting and moving her body in a little dance as she sought to deal with the pain. He liked the way her mouth pursed, and the furrow dug between her eyebrows.

“It’s too, too much.”

“These are some of the lightest clamps I own. Unless you want me to get another set or move these to your labia, I suggest you stop fighting.”

She dragged in breath after breath.

The tips of her nipples were distended beautifully. He moved two fingers rapidly through her slick folds. He liked how aroused she became, and how quickly it happened. “Don’t come,” he told her.

“There’s no chance.”

“Oh?” He captured her gaze. “None?”

“My nipples hurt too bad.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, ignoring her complaints. “Such a pretty pussy,” he said, continuing to fondle her.

Her thighs quivered.

“I can see it’s absolutely too much pain for you, girl.”

“Sir!”

“So why are you fighting off your orgasm and hoping I’ll relent and tell you to come?”

He saw her dig her bare toes into the floor.

When he sensed she was on the verge, he moved his hand away.

She cursed.

“I like having you there,” he said. “Helpless. Bound. At my mercy. No matter what I do, you have to take it. There’s no escape for you, Julia.”

Her mouth was open, and he could tell she was breathing through it. She must have adjusted to the rubber-tipped clamps on her nipples, but he had diabolical ways of reminding her of their presence.

He crossed the room to grab his flogger and shook out the dozen thick strands near her face. “This one is fairly soft and supple. It will cause a dull pain rather than a sharp, searing one. It’s an excellent introduction, and it is well-suited for frontal beatings.” He waited a moment. “What colour are you on?”

“Yellow, Sir.”

“Do you need to stop?”

She shook her head, but her gaze was on the flogger.

“This is much less impactful than the tawse and my belt. You’ve already taken much more pain than this will deliver.”

“Could we start with a couple of hits?”

“Julia, from what I know of you, you’re going to love this thing.”

“I’m not convinced.”

“Three,” he said.

She nodded.

He landed three different strokes. He caught her upper chest, then her belly, then a little lower so that a couple of tips licked her inner thighs. She’d experienced thirty-six stinging bites from the leather, and she’d barely whimpered. He dropped his arm to his side and waited.

“More,” she said.

“Harder? Or the same?”

“Harder,” she said. “Harder, Sir.”

He nodded. He began to flog her gently, all over her body, her breasts, thighs, ribs.

She closed her eyes and murmured, “Yes.”

He took a small step back to give him more leverage and freedom of movement. He increased the intensity, catching her on the breasts.

Her head fell forward a little.

Watching her carefully, he found a rhythm that stung her but didn’t sear her skin. Even without his coaching, she breathed deeply, the breaths evenly spaced and fairly far apart. His Julia was getting into this.

She made sounds that were somewhere between a purr and moan. She intoxicated him.

He hit her a little harder, everywhere, including between her legs. Her body jerked in response, but she never cried out. “Can you hear me, Julia?”

She didn’t respond.

He continued the flogging with consistent snaps of his wrist. “Julia?”

“Shh.”

Was it possible she’d achieved subspace with her first light flogging? “Talk to me,” he said. “What colour are you on?”

Again she was silent.

He stopped for a moment and took hold of her chin, gently tipping her head back. “Open your eyes.”

She barely did, but it was enough for him to recognise the glaze of arousal and the glare of her annoyance.

“You are lovely in your submission,” he said.

“Thank you, Sir.”

That she didn’t protest his words showed him how far she’d come. “I think you’ve had enough.”

“I’d like to continue,” she said. “Just a few more. And a little harder, Sir.”

He debated for a moment. It was her first experience with the flogger, but he was using a light one. Parts of her skin were pink, but there was nothing that would bruise. He stepped back into position to release a volley of smacks, specifically aimed towards her pussy and breasts.

“More on my pussy, please.”

He turned his body to make sure the leather thongs caressed between her legs. He knew it had to sting, but she didn’t complain. In fact, her body language drove him on.

Finally, knowing she’d had enough, even if she didn’t acknowledge it herself, he dropped the flogger.

“Please, Sir, I really want to come. I’ve never felt like this before.”

He fingered her hungry cunt, and she began to jerk against him. “Already?” he asked against her ear. Her body was hot, her breaths were laboured, and she was pulling restlessly against her bonds. “You’re not on the edge yet, are you, girl?”

“Yes! Let me come, damn you. Please. Please, Sir!”

“You’re begging like a shameless hussy.”

“Yes.” She thrust out her hips as much as her confines allowed.

“You’re being wanton.”

“My whole body is on fire, Sir. Do you understand?”

“I understand what you need, girl. And you can fucking wait until I say.” He reached up and mercilessly squeezed one of her clamped nipples.

She moaned and screamed his name.