RecipeforSubmission (12 page)

He gave Kyra a small push to send her rocking and then took
a couple of steps, grabbing the strap of his bag and pulling it closer. It
might look like an innocent Redskins sports bag, but inside was a collection of
sensation toys ranging from the gentle to the intense. Some were homemade, some
were bought from craftspeople in the scene, and some were perfectly normal
objects that most people never had a sexual thought about, like a horse’s
grooming brush or a bunch of tiny clothespins on a string. But the bag was well
organized, like his kitchen. He knew the importance of being able to lay his
hands on exactly what he wanted when he wanted it.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your spanking.” He pushed her with
his hip, knowing how important some kind of touch was, and he wanted to stall for
a few seconds. His hands were busy rubbing a length of chain with two little
tweezer clamps on each end. Even on a hot day, metal could feel quite cold, and
that wasn’t the sensation he was after.

“I wasn’t worried!” she insisted. Her voice held a humor to
it he appreciated. He’d never been fond of subs that spent all their time
cowering and mewling. But Kyra had as much spirit as anyone he’d met. More. And
given how recently she’d thought that people like him were simply evil, she
showed extraordinary courage in tackling the feelings she now felt.

He leaned over her again from behind, his body covering
hers, and reached around with his hands. Caressing her left breast with his
fingers, he was delighted to find its peak still hard and ready to be clamped.

“Sir, I’m feeling a tingling,” Kyra said, her voice calm,
trusting and undistressed.

Shit.
He noted the fact that she trusted him to take
care of it in the back of his mind, but he got off her and moved quickly to the
cuffs her wrists were tied to as the most likely suspect even as he asked her,
“Where?”

“My nipples.” She giggled.

She knows full well what she’s done, and I really should
punish her for it. Safety is serious business.
He’d been really worried
about her, and she’d made a joke of it. On one level, he could accept that it
was funny. But his desire to make sure Kyra was safe was too intense for him to
laugh. The little wench was grinning from ear to ear too.

“Very funny, Kyra,” he said when he thought he could keep
his voice even. “And don’t think I don’t see the humor. But I’m very serious
about your safety, and I expect you to be serious about it too. A tingling in
your hands or feet could mean that your blood supply wasn’t flowing to those
parts properly, and that could be very dangerous if not seen to.” The nipple
clamps were in his fist still and she hadn’t seen them since the bag was behind
her when he got them. He could use them as punishment this time, but then she’d
have a hard time accepting them as pleasurable if they ever wanted to use them
again. And he did want to play with her again. Which meant that he couldn’t let
things be. He couldn’t keep her safe all by himself; he needed her cooperation.

He knelt down in front of her and showed her the chain and
the clamps. “These are for your tingling nipples. Trust me, they’ll stay
tingling for a bit. You’ll need the distraction.”

She blinked. “I’m sorry. I-I couldn’t resist.”

She grimaced as he attached the clamps, adjusting the
rubber-tipped tweezer ends around each tender bud. He tightened them enough to
be sure they’d stay on, but not any tighter.

“Take a breath, love.”

She breathed in deeply.

“Do they feel okay?” He brushed back the lock of hair that
had fallen in front of her face.

“Yes, Master. Thank you.”

He opened his mouth to correct her, but didn’t. “I want you
to remember to never give a false alarm again. If any top you ever have takes
you less than seriously when you tell him there’s a problem because you’ve
joked about it—well, you know about the story of the boy who called wolf, I’m
sure.” The thought of any other top playing with her made him tighten inside.
Since
when did I become jealous?
Still, if the emotion made him look more fierce,
that was all to the best.

She nodded, her eyes shining with uncried tears. She
squeezed them shut, then opened them again. “I’m sorry, Master. I don’t know—I
hope I’ll remember.”

“You will. I won’t spank you for a punishment. We’ve already
established that’s a reward.” He knew where Ken kept some canes in a bucket in
the corner, and he knew Ken kept them clean. Ken wouldn’t mind if he borrowed
one, but he’d pay Ken for it instead. He’d only used one once, a long time ago,
when he was trying out different things. He never thought he’d try one again.
“Six of the best,” as the British said, was more intense than he wanted to dish
out to anyone. “Do you accept that I have a right and responsibility to punish
you? If you don’t, all you have to do is say your safe word and I’ll drive you
back home.”

She stared at him, hesitating. “Yes, Master,” she said at
last, the tears flowing now. He wanted nothing more than to give her a hug.
“How will I be punished?”

“Three strokes with a cane,” he said grimly.

She winced as if she’d been struck by the first blow already
and hung her head. He waited. Had he pushed it too far? Was he going to lose
her? But he couldn’t let it go, either. He could only imagine what she was
thinking, wondering if he was like the stereotype she’d imagined Doms to be
when he’d first met her. Wondering if she trusted him. Wondering if she ought
to save herself the pain. The worst thing was not knowing what was going on in
her head. He couldn’t even see her face for a clue.

“Yes, Master,” she said at last.

“Good girl,” he said, ruffling her hair, feeling the gesture
hopelessly inadequate for the trust she’d showed in him. He got up and took a
step toward the corner.

“Master?”

He stopped and turned to look at her. “Yes?”

She raised her head and looked at him. “I won’t ever have
another top. So don’t do this to teach me a lesson for anyone else. But if you
do it to teach me a lesson for how to be with you, I accept it completely.”

It wasn’t quite “will you keep me?” but it was damn close.
He ought to go back and give her a spanking, or perhaps let her go. He wasn’t
going to enjoy using the cane on her. She wasn’t going to enjoy it either. He
was acting as if she were his slave. Someone permanent. He barely trusted
himself to speak.

“Understood.” He walked across the floor to get a cane.

Chapter Eight

Kyra stared after Drew’s broad back. To say that the clamps
would keep her nipples tingling was an understatement. If she didn’t manage to
stay absolutely still, the swing started swaying, and that set the chain
swinging as well, which pulled on her nipples and turned the tingling into
sparks of fire. She didn’t know whether she loved it or hated it, but she was
sure it was one of the two.

When she was in high school, a kid she knew had pulled the
fire alarm to get out of a test. It was great fun, standing outdoors on a fine
spring day, watching the fire trucks arrive and the firemen run in with their
axes and gear trying to find out what was wrong. They probably knew that the
odds were better than fifty-fifty that it was a prank, but of course no one
took any chances with a thousand school children.

Later that night, on the news, there was a story about a
house that caught fire about five miles away, and a man who’d died inside
before the firemen could save him. She didn’t know whether the fire trucks that
were at her school would have been there, instead, or if they had been whether
they could have helped. But it ran through her mind every time there was a fire
drill after that.
I, of all people, should have known better than to poke
fun at his precautions, or to find pleasure in knowing I could make him jump.

She didn’t feel much better about using the incident to let
her put him on the spot. But she’d meant what she said. She couldn’t pretend it
was research for the book, and she wasn’t going to hunt for someone else when
he was done with her. And he’d made perfectly clear he would be done with her.
I
want at least one more chance. Please. Let me show you I can make you happy.

He came back holding a slender stick of wood not quite two
feet long. It didn’t look like much. If it had a feather on it, it would have
looked like a wand for some kid at Hogwarts. He came to a stop a few inches in
front of her. “What are you thinking?”

She was tempted to lie and make up something about how scary
the cane looked, but she told him the truth. She couldn’t help what thoughts
came to her.

“Your mind works in interesting ways, Kyra.” He moved around
her and she couldn’t see him anymore. She wondered if he smiled the moment he
was out of sight. Somehow she doubted it. She felt what had to be the cane
resting across her ass.

“Do you wish to use your safe word?”

“No.”

“Very well.” His voice was cold, and she couldn’t tell if he
was angry or simply pushing his emotions down.

When he lifted the cane, she felt suddenly alone. Time
slowed down while she anticipated how it might feel. “I’m sorry,” she
whispered.

She felt his hand on her back and it was as if the tension
in her flowed away through his hand. There was a moment’s peace, and then the
cane hit.

Pain blossomed on her rear in a thin fiery line, pain that
bled around the edges and shut out all other senses. A second later, she didn’t
know if she’d screamed or taken it in silence, she only wished the pain would
go away. It ebbed, but changed from fire to intense ache. The rattling of the
chains that held the swing opened her to the fact that the rest of the world
hadn’t disappeared. Her breasts still ached from the clamps. That was something
to focus on. The little chain between the clips swung back and forth in
response to the motion of the swing, tugging on her rhythmically. She tried to
push her chest forward, whether to intensify the sensation or to alleviate it
she wasn’t sure. A dull warmth stole down from her chest and settled in her
core.

My
god. I’m wet.

“Do you wish to use your safe word?”

“No!” She was surprised at the vehemence in her voice. She
didn’t want the pain. The clamps might be turning her on, but the cane sure
wasn’t. But she wasn’t going to give in. She didn’t ever want to fail him, not
ever again.

This time the stinging line was higher up, but still on soft
and giving flesh. She shrieked, clutching the chains next to her hands for dear
life.
Fuck, that hurts!
She tried to focus on her breasts, but it helped
only a little. She didn’t know if she could take another.
Please don’t ask
me about my safe word.

He didn’t. The third strike didn’t feel nearly as bad. Maybe
it simply blended into all the other sensations, but it felt as if he’d pulled
back. She heard the cane clatter to the floor. The next thing she felt was his
arms around her, awkwardly because of the chains of the swing.

“Don’t ever do that again.” His words were scolding but his
voice was heavy with emotion.

“No, Master. Thank you.” Tears were streaming down her face
and her ass hurt like hell. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was thanking him
for, but somehow it seemed the right thing to say. He’d taken no pleasure in
beating her, sadistic or otherwise. He’d been concerned about her safety, and
willing to have her hate him in order to teach her to take it seriously. She
wished she could hold him back.

“I’ll get you down,” he said, letting go of her and reaching
for a cuff.

“Please don’t.” She wondered if she was out of line. He was
supposed to be in charge, after all.

He stopped. “Why?”

“I’m—” She broke off, trying to understand it herself.
I’m
horny.
It seemed so very wrong, to want to be fucked at a time like that.
And from the huskiness in his voice, she suspected it hadn’t been an easy thing
for him to cane her. She glanced at his crotch and saw no trace of the bulge
that had been there before. He definitely hadn’t gotten off on it. She didn’t
think she had, either. But her pussy was soaking wet and wanted contact. Wanted
fucking. “I want to please you.”

“You please me fine.” He moved in front of her, crouching,
one hand stroking her cheek, the other playing with her hair. A faint smile
appeared on his lips.

“Use me, Master.” Her pussy ached more as she said the
words. She wanted him inside her, driving deep toward her womb. She’d thought
to say
fuck me
, but somehow leaving it up to him made her even hotter.
“However you like.”

He kissed her hard, tilting her head back, forcing her to
arch her back. The chain pulled on her breasts as his tongue invaded her mouth.
His lips were rough on hers. She responded eagerly, tongue wrestling with him,
feeling her face get hot. She held back a whimper when at last he drew away.
But she couldn’t hold back her smile when he stood and she saw the hard ridge
of his cock shaping the front of his pants again.

He moved around her, out of her view once more. She let her
head hang down; she could see his legs move, upside down, from there.

She felt his fingers on her pussy, sliding between her
nether lips. “You’re wet,” he said, sliding two fingers inside her.

“Yes.” There was no point in not admitting it. It was embarrassing,
but even that was hot. He’d feel her wherever he wanted to.

“The caning turned you on?” His fingers stopped moving and a
mixture of disbelief and maybe even disappointment filled his voice.

“No.” As much as she wanted him to approve, she knew it
wasn’t true either. “The cane was just pain.”

“The clamps, then.” His fingers slid again, in deep and then
almost out again. He reached his other hand around to cup a breast, his top
finger below the aching peak.