Deep in the Woods (11 page)

“Wrong!” This time the tone of his voice made her jump. He paused, as if gathering his temper, and glared at the woman. “If you believe that, more power to you, but it’s a piss-poor choice to present it as reality in a group like this, with newbies and vulnerable players who might buy into that shit at their own peril—”

Jerry jumped in, cutting Dave off. “Okay. This is a controversial topic. Maybe it’s best to agree there are no absolutes. What is devotion to one may look like danger to another. For some, setting limits is an important exercise. For others, their only limit is common sense.”

“Not everyone has common sense,” said a voice from across the room. Madame M was glaring at Sophie. Sophie felt Dave go rigid against her side. She squeezed his thigh, trying to calm him. Jerry jumped in with a joke to dispel the tension but the damage was done. Sophie didn’t want Dave to alienate himself from the community. He was the happy-go-lucky one, the one who put his subjects at ease with his casual, laid-back attitude.

But by the end of the munch, he was still seething. They made their way out with clipped goodbyes to friends, Sophie trying to smile over the tension. If the topic had been Jerry’s idea of a nod to Sophie and Dave’s new relationship, it had gone horribly awry, and Jerry went out of his way to avoid them as they left.

Sophie sat beside Dave in the car on the way home, wanting to lighten the mood, but not wanting to irritate him further. In the back of her mind was the dinner at her parents’ they were supposed to attend in three hours or so. Joy. She always depended on Dave to lighten things up with his sense of humor, but he seemed pretty humorless at the moment. She finally blurted out, “I can’t stand Suzie. She’s such an idiot.”

Dave drew in a deep breath and blew it out. “Yeah. I should have just kept my mouth shut. But that kind of no-limits, mindless submission is what got you into trouble. I mean, forgive me, but that type of attitude is harmful.”

“I know. She shouldn’t be preaching it as if it’s the one true way.”

“It’s not any way you should ever practice BDSM, true or not.”

She fell silent. His tone was almost accusatory. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, I suppose we are all not as perfect at this as you.”

“Careful with the smart mouth, Soph. I’m not in a good mood right now.”

“I’m not in a good mood either. How do you think I felt sitting there with everyone looking down their noses at me? And Madame M, that bitch—”

“Why didn’t you speak up then? Talk about your experiences? Your silence only adds to the problem—”

“What? So I have to confess in front of everyone now? The whole munch?”

“Confess? Who said anything about confessing?”

Her voice rose with his as her temper flared. “It’s like I’m wearing a big red ‘F’ on my chest all the time. For fuckup. For fool. Maybe I do need to confess. Maybe I just need to stand up in front of everyone and beg their fucking forgiveness for being a manipulated, brainwashed idiot. ‘Cause Lord knows—”

“Sophie—”

“Lord knows no one else ever did stupid shit before because they thought they were in love with someone, because they wanted to please someone they cared about. Jesus. Maybe then you’ll stop throwing it in my face every other fucking minute—”

“Sophie, Enough!” His sharp reprimand silenced her. She knew she’d be punished now for speaking to him with such disrespect. Whatever. She was so tired of everyone judging her for her mistake. Sure, it had been a big, terrible mistake, but hadn’t she already paid the price for it?

“It’s just not fair,” she mumbled, turning away to look out the window. “I’m blamed for getting into the relationship, but no one gives me any credit for getting out of it.”

“No one’s blaming you.”

“You do it all the time. You just said it’s not any way you should ever practice BDSM—”

“When I said that I meant
you
in general, not
you
, Sophie.”

“It’s just the way you said it. I know you meant it at me.”

“‘I meant it at you?’ What the hell does that mean? You’re not even speaking English.”

“I am speaking English. You just don’t understand me.”

“That’s the fucking truth. I don’t understand you sometimes. What you don’t understand is that this is all in your head. No one’s blaming you, no one’s angry at you or looking down on you, not to the extent you believe.”

“Yes, I know, I’m just a psycho. It’s all in my head. Like everything, always.”

She gasped as he slammed on the brakes and brought the car to an abrupt stop on the side of the road. As he ground it into park, she tensed, waiting for a slap, angry words. She lifted her face to his. She wouldn’t cringe away or take back her words, not even if he punished her here, now. But the anger she expected never came. No, this was Dave, not Barry. Dave took her arms and pulled her close and kissed her. He kissed her until she relaxed, until the tension melted away and she opened herself to him. His lips moved over hers in a soft caress, then his tongue thrust deep. His hand came up to hold her face still for his intimate assault. When he finally pulled away she was nothing more than a breathless pile of girlfriend. He looked at her with a masterful, brooding gaze.

“When I get you home…”

And with that, he turned away and put the car in gear, pulling back onto the road.

Oh my god. When you get me home…what?

He left her to wonder about it, and not by chance. Fucking sadistic Dominants, she thought. Inflicting their devious mind fucks. Based on the kiss he’d just given her, he was either going to make her very happy or very sorry.

Or knowing him…both.

* * * * *

Cerby was locked in the bedroom and Sophie stood in the living room feeling naked. Because she was naked. Very naked. And very scared. And horny. But mostly scared.

Dave looked at her, thinking. Scheming, she could tell. He was nude—tall, vital male. His hands were open at his sides, as if he might at any moment just come at her and do…what? Whatever he wanted. Something bad, but something good. His hands always made her feel good, even when they felt bad. She stood with her arms at her sides the way he’d taught her, trying not to shake. Whatever he planned to do, she hoped he did it soon.

He crossed to her then, slowly, until he was behind her. She stood, alert and yet open. His arm came around her neck, putting her in a jolting headlock. Weeks of training kicked in and without thinking, she jammed her elbow into his stomach, then squirmed around to go for his eyes. He deflected her with a smile. “Good girl. On your knees.”

She sank to the carpet, his smile and
good girl
making her heart beat hard and fast. She waited for instructions the way he had taught her. He loved to give instructions.

His instructions always made her wet.

“Hands behind your back. Tease my cock and lick my balls. No hands.”

His cock was already hardening. Sophie took a few stolen moments just to admire it, resting on a mat of dark, wiry hair. His balls underneath, large and pendulous, hanging down in a testament to his maleness. Sophie loved everything about Dave’s cock. Every shape, every scent, every texture. And the way he used it…

Concentrate.
She leaned forward, balancing on her knees with her hands at the small of her back, and drew the tip of her tongue from the base of his cock down to the tip. It twitched against her lips, hard but velvety soft. She licked around the head, then nibbled and sucked at the most sensitive part just below the crown. He groaned, burying his hands in her hair and pulling her closer. She leaned lower and lapped at his ball sac, teasing it with the tip of her tongue and tracing around both testicles before drawing them gently into her mouth. His fingers tightened in her hair as he sucked in his breath. After toying with his jewels a few more moments, she licked along his now fully engorged shaft with broad strokes of her tongue.

“Ohhhkay…now suck me. Take me deep. Yes…” He sighed as Sophie opened and took as much of his length as she could into her mouth. “Yes. Use your hands now. Jack me while you suck me.” Sophie threw herself into pleasuring her Dominant, taking him deep again and again, driven on by his hoarse encouragements. “Yes, good girl. Suck me. You like to suck my cock, don’t you?”

“Mmm.” Sophie made an affirmative noise around his shaft.

“Look at me.”

Sophie peered up at him, the man who ruled her, to find him gazing down with such affection her stomach flip-flopped. His hand in her hair kept her head tilted back. He began to fuck her face, controlling her, challenging her, loving her. With a groan, his thighs tensed and he shot thick cum down her throat. She sucked him, teasing out every last drop of the salty fluid. She loved that she could have this part of him, that in this, at least, there was no barrier between them. They used condoms during intercourse even though they’d both been tested, because Sophie didn’t tolerate the Pill very well. But for oral sex, there was no need for birth control and she was able to enjoy him fully. She swallowed, familiar taste and scent in her throat.

She waited for him to release her and back away, and then stayed, waiting, on her knees. He moved to the sofa. She thought he probably looked at her, although she kept her eyes cast down. She had angered him, then she had pleased him. What would he do to her now? She had a pretty good idea she was about to be disciplined, but how long? How hard? What implement?

“Put your forehead on the floor.” His quiet words made her shudder, but she obeyed. He didn’t rise to get any whips or crops or paddles though. He just watched and waited. Sophie tried to concentrate on being his girl, his plaything, his obedient slave.

“Come here,” he said finally, and she hurried over on her knees. He indicated that she should kneel up beside him. She looked up, only wanting to please him, to make his anger go away. “Do you think you behaved well today? Or do you think you could have acted more respectfully?”

“Oh, Sir.” Sophie’s brows drew together in consternation. “I really fucked up. I’m so sorry. I just got all agitated at the munch, and then—”

“Are you going to make excuses?” he cut in quietly.

Sophie sighed. “No Sir.”

His hand came out and patted her head, ruffling her hair. “It was a difficult afternoon for me too. I also lost my temper. We’re both only human.”

Sophie wanted to take his hand and kiss it. He was so unlike Barry. He wasn’t ruled by his temper, by strange demons she didn’t understand. He was controlled and responsible. She wanted him to kiss her. His fingers moved down over her forehead and down her cheek to caress her slightly parted lips.

“I’m sorry too, for drawing you into an emotional argument when I knew you were already punchy. I’ll try not to do that again.”

“Th… Thank you, Sir. You are so wonderful. You’re so thoughtful with me.”

“Why am I thoughtful with you, Sophie?”

“Because you love me?” Even though she knew it was the answer he wanted, even though he told her many times a day that he loved her, the words still stuck in her throat, a wonder and impossibility.

“Say it again, this time without the question mark.” Her gaze flew to his. He had that sweet, warm challenge in his eyes.

“Because you love me,” she repeated. She felt so emotional. It had been an emotional day. He cocked his head to the side, smiling his wonderful crooked smile.

“Yes, that’s right. And why do I punish you when you’ve been disrespectful or disobedient?”

“Because you love me.” This time her voice was clear and sure.

“Good girl.” He nodded and pinched her chin. “Now, crawl into the kitchen and get the wooden spoon, and crawl back here with it in your mouth.”

Sophie swallowed hard, but turned and did as he bade her. She always felt awkward and silly when she was crawling, especially knowing he watched, but she understood the exercise.
I’m in charge. You serve me. Know your place.

In the kitchen, she sat up on her knees to open the drawer beside the sink and draw out the wooden spoon. There were several, but only one he spanked her with, thicker and smoother than the others. She took it in her mouth, between her teeth, and began the long crawl back with the instrument of her own torment. Each move forward, she grew wetter, more open to him.
God, please let him fuck me afterward. Please let him satisfy this lust.

When she was back at his side, he took the spoon from her mouth and patted his lap. “Up and over. You know the drill.”

She draped herself over his hard thighs, thrilling to the feel of his scratchy hair against her belly and the lingering scent of his maleness. She positioned herself the way he preferred. He pinned her with one thigh and placed a firm hand at the small of her back.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack!

Ow, ow, ow! Hot, hot burning pain! She hated the wooden spoon. The sting was so unbearable, and it was humbling to realize that a simple kitchen tool could break her down faster than a hundred-dollar flogger.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

“Ohhh! Ow… Mmmm…” She bit down on her lip, trying to keep the wailing in check. He rarely gagged her but he did sometimes hit harder if she whined too much. God, her ass was on fire. She started to squirm, trying to dodge the blows. Her hands tightened on his calves. In a minute they would fly back of their own accord and try to deflect his discipline.