Monday, April 22, 2013

Private Delights

Chapter 6

      Joanne flinched at the rough sound of his command. Could she really do this? Watching him open that weapon, the care he took to make sure all the wrapping was removed, the slow inspection of each long strand, took her body to another place. A place where his hands were on her skin, sliding up and down her back and inspecting every inch as he had with the cords.

Clamping her lips shut to prevent the rising moan, she slipped her feet out of her shoes and unzipped the black slacks she’d worn, trying to remember what panties she’d put on this morning. It was a recognizable deflection for her brain but anything to keep her sane at the moment.

A glance in his direction didn’t help at all. He’d gotten rid of his shirt and stood watching her progress.


She didn’t know what he did for a living, but it was definitely working for him. Muscles stood out across wide shoulders and down his chest, visible even through the dark sprinkling of hair. Just a little lower, that dark hair narrowed into a thin line and disappeared into the low-slung waistband of his jeans. Not the kind of body she’d expect from the owner of a business unless it was a gym.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and draped her slacks over the back of the chair. The blouse went over her head and joined the pants. Undies next.

She closed her eyes and reached for the clasp of her bra, but he wouldn’t allow her the slight privacy.

“Eyes on me, sub.”

Dammit. She settled her nerves and tried to remember why she thought this was a good idea. When she met his hot stare, she relaxed. Not completely, but some.

He was as affected as she, his chest rising and falling a little faster than it had when they were simply talking. A flick of her fingers and the bra dropped from her breasts, the straps at her shoulders holding it cupped in front of her.

His eyes flared with heat and she relaxed a little more. A certain sense of power settled in her chest. He wanted to do this. He desired this act, and if she wanted, she could call it off. The outcome was hers to choose.

Her hands came up to her breasts and held the bra cups for a one teasing moment, and then the bra landed on the chair with her other clothes.

“Being a tease will often get you more strokes of the paddle, little submissive-in-training. Bear that in mind.”

Her breath hitched at his comment, but she stood her ground, only lowering her eyes when his brow rose. “Sorry.”

He cleared his throat.

“Sorry, Master.”

“Good girl,” he crooned. “Leave the panties.”

Arms by her side and head tipped forward, she waited for his instructions.

A few seconds seemed like hours while she waited.

“Ordinarily, we’d use restraints to keep you in one place, but the proper equipment won’t be installed until the floors are finished. “Joanne, look at me.”

She looked up into a half-amused face.

“I’m going to break a few rules and give you input today. Don’t expect it to happen again.”

When he paused, she wanted to return the smile but didn’t think he’d appreciate it. Her gaze dropped while she fought the urge and discovered a growing bulge in his pants. Interesting.

“Too choices. Lay across the table or stand against the wall.”

The table was one of those hard plastic temporary things with rounded edges and it wouldn’t be comfortable at all, not that she expected comfort. “I’ll stand, Master.”

“Wise choice. Step over to the wall and show me the standing submissive position.”

Easy enough, but not for long. Dread crept up her spine. She’d never done this, never thought about doing this, and her nerves were tighter than a violin string.

A cool draft blew across her shoulders as the air conditioner cycled on, and then heat brushed against her back. Derek’s bare chest made contact with her shoulder blades, his hands cupped her upper arms and slid down to take her hands. He lifted them the wall and pressed her palms to the plaster.

“Keep them here for me,” he whispered in her ear, the rasp like the swipe of a brush across her scalp, sending tingles straight to her core. Those hot hands returned to her shoulders and slid ever so gently down to her hips. His right foot nudged hers. “Feet further apart. Hm, good girl.”

The heat returned to her back and his proximity had her lungs working a little faster.

“Joanne, can you trust me?”

She replied with a short bob of her head, the gruffness of his voice causing chill bumps to rise on her arms.

“The first few strikes will hurt. Breathe through the pain and wait for the pleasure.” His hands clenched against her hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into her flesh through her thin panties. “Trust me to make it good for you.”

She nodded again and the heat moved away.

A deep breath did nothing for her nerves or the function of her lungs.

She focused on her muscles, trying not to tighten them. If she could just relax, she’d be okay. She was prepared but his hesitation worked on her head. Anticipation was a bitch, one she knew on a first name basis. She could only hope he was trustworthy.

The first lash stung in long lines across her back, the ends of the strands like exclamation points to the pain. A shout left her with the second barrage, the sting more intense than the first. In the pause afterward, a warm hand caressed her skin and the pain morphed into a hot stone massage with a rough edge.

The massage stopped and her Master changed sides, the cat-tail landing at a different angle. The sensations changed, the slap of the cords and the tight little end pieces creating an inflammation from within her body. She ached with a need that raced through her until it reached the center of her body. A moan echoed in the room, and then another before she realized they came from her. Again and again, she felt the strands collide with her body, and every time, she felt the stroke in her belly and in her sex more than across her back.

The need to come bombarded her. “Please, Master,” she whimpered.

He paused in mid swing and lifted her chin. “Are you asking me to stop?”

She turned enough to look at him through a haze of desperate arousal. “No, Master. Don’t stop. I need...I need more....”

His grin was wicked, his face flushed and tight with lust. “I know what you need, little sub. Trust me.”

He stepped back out of sight and another set of lashes crossed her flesh. Moisture slipped past the elastic of her panties and coated the inside of her thighs. She needed him inside her. Now.

The strands of the whip landed one more time and stopped. The heat of his body enveloped her, his hands roaming across her shoulders, retracing the path he’d taken before they began. They paused at her hips then slid around to her belly.

They moved lower. Thick fingers explored the thick cream between her legs. Her panties were pushed aside and two fingers slid deep.

A cry sounded in the bare room as he filled her, pumping his fingers in and out of her sex, and a baritone groan near her ear filled her head. Arms and legs shaking at the onslaught, Joanne clenched around him. “More...more...please, Master.”

His thumb moved against her, found the right spot, and she exploded, the fire in her body rushing to her extremities and back to her core in an instant.

When her eyes opened again, she was in Derek’s arms, cuddled like a baby where he sat on the chair. An attempt to leave his lap failed while he shook his head. “Hang on a few more minutes, honey.”

A few more breaths helped her regulate her heart rate and he eased his hold on her. “Is it supposed to be like that?” she asked.

He cocked a brow. “It can be. Depends on the motive of the Dom. Spankings can be for pleasure, pain, or discipline. Some people prefer the pain more than the pleasure. To each, his own.”

“So I shouldn’t expect this reaction every time?”

“With me, probably. With others, I can’t say. But most Doms prefer to give pleasure.”

A wiggle on his lap made her realize he was still aroused. What was the protocol when a Dom gave a sub an orgasm? “Um, should I give you pleasure now, Master?”

His head stretched back until he faced the ceiling before he answered. The crooked smile made him look younger. “No, I think we’ll leave that lesson for another day.”


“Are you still working another job?” he asked.

“Yes. I didn’t want to quit until I knew this job was a sure thing.” Maybe the residual orgasm had refocused her perceptions, but he was more than handsome as he spoke to her face to face. Okay, so it was probably the orgasm, but he was being nice and she felt good. Better than good.

“You’re officially on the clock as of today. Payroll is biweekly. We’ll continue your training and when we’re not working on submission, you can help in other areas. Once you’re trained, you’ll be training other staff.” He held up a hand to stop her question. “I’ll continue instruction when you need me to with the other subs. Settle with your other job and give us a call when you know when you can be here on a regular basis.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“I’ll be here every day this week, so find me when you get here. Now, get dressed. I have some things to take care of outside.”

He stood, adjusted his hard-on in his jeans, and left her to get dressed. This was going to be one hell of a job but if she felt anywhere close to this satisfied at the end of every work day, she’d be in heaven. 

Derek stopped at Mark’s office door, his head and dick still pounding, and pressed his head against the shiny wood, feeling a lot less than happy with his own version of hardwood.

He ached.

Nothing he could do until it went away on its own.

Celibacy bit the big one, but he’d survive.

His good buddy might not, though.

The door opened and Mark came close to running over him. “Hey, all finished with the new hire?”

Apparently, a growl wasn’t an appropriate greeting.

Mark’s grin wasn’t welcome, either. “Do you like my new door? It was just installed. Great wood grain, don’t you think?”

Derek shoved him into the room and slammed the nice new door behind them. “I need to kill someone right now, and you’re handy.”

Hard hands pushed against his chest and he leaned into them. Mark was strong, fit and muscular, but Derek had at least twenty pounds on him and a boatload of aggression to release.

“Come on, man. Was it that bad? Did she run screaming from the new front doors?”

“You’re enjoying this way too much, buddy.”


1 comment: