The British Billionaire Bachelor, Act Three (14 page)

“It’s going to be chilly in the dungeon, and until it warms up down there I don’t want you to be cold,” he explained, “and besides that, it’s, well, you’ll see.”

Holding up the garment, she realized it buttoned across her clavicle and under her rib cage, but if she wasn’t wearing a shirt, her breasts would be completely exposed.

“Ingenious,” she exclaimed.

“There’s more,” he urged.

Reaching inside she found matching thigh-high cashmere leggings with wide elastic bands at the top, and a pair of thick woolly socks.

“When am I going to put this, uh, outfit on?” she asked, a cheeky grin on her face.

“Right now,” he winked back, “while I take the rest of these boxes down. I’ll be back in a minute to get you.”

Picking up the packages, he carried them out and headed to the antique French lift, and as Belle heard the clanging of its closing door, she began to change. By the time he returned she was dressed, and while the outfit may have been designed for warmth, it was also a sensual and compelling invitation.

“You look…” he growled, moving towards her.

“That’s how I feel,” she breathed.

Moving quickly across the room, he wandered his hands across the exposed parts of her, leaving a trail of goosebumps and a warm yearning between her legs, then taking her hand he led her across the room, pulling the lever that opened the secret door in the wall. Picking up the flashlight just inside the darkness, he illuminated the passage way, and they began to move carefully down the stairs.

Reaching the landing he stopped, and placing the flashlight on the floor, abruptly turned to her, and gripping her arms walked her backwards, pinning them against the cold, concrete wall. Belle’s pulse quickened, her breathing became a series of gasps, and when he dropped his lips, kissing her neck, she moaned loudly, squeezing her thighs together in need.

Fueled by her fervent response, he lowered his lips to her cold, puckered nipples, sucking hungrily. She whimpered longingly as his mouth devoured her, his hands still holding her still, then as abruptly as he’d begun, he released her and stepped away.

Breathlessly Belle opened her eyes and stared at him through the ghostly light of the flashlight’s beam. He held her look for just a moment before wordlessly pulling the lever that opened the rock wall, revealing the stairwell down to the dungeon. It had been a while since he’d brought her this way, usually opting for the French lift, and the mysterious passageway and hidden stairs still held their eerie fascination, but shaky from his unexpected assault, she was more focused on the wet hunger between her legs than the centuries-old, secret passageway.

Picking up the torch, he sent the beam down to light her way, and she carefully walked down the ancient steps to the bottom, where she found the door into the dungeon already open, and as she moved inside she saw the boxes waiting by the bed.

The large room was illuminated by the soft glow of the overhead recessed lights, and she could feel a gentle warmth flowing through the air. The many heaters were on, but it was an expansive area that would take time to warm, and she was grateful for the comfort of her sexy clothing.

Rolling the bookcase back in place to cover the opening, Simon moved across and took her hand.

“First, we must talk,” he softly proclaimed,”let’s sit on the bed.” Climbing on to the mattress, he leaned back against the headboard, settling her next to him. She had thought he would simply take charge as he always did, and the change in his routine heightened her curiosity.

“Have you read anything about positions?” he asked.

“Do you mean things like kneeling with my hands behind my head and so forth?”

“Exactly. Today that’s what I’m going to teach you, some positions.”

“Yes, Sir,” she murmured, not sure what else she should say.

“In one of those positions, I will ask you to surrender to me in a way you haven’t before,” he warned slowly.

The gentle butterfly wings began to flap, and she leaned against him for support.

“May I ask-?”

“No, it will just happen,” he replied, “and I’ll instruct you to relax and surrender, but remember, you’re not obligated to do anything. Everything you agree to is something I’ll treasure, but if you’re nervous, or don’t want to continue, all you have to do is tell me.”

“You mean, like a safe word?”

“Yes, but if you say to me, Simon this is making me uncomfortable, of course I’ll stop, but having said that, would you like a safe word?”

“Maybe. I trust you completely, but maybe, if we’re venturing into unknown territory it might be a good idea,” she nodded.

“I agree. What’s it to be?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed.

“Let’s keep it simple. Orange for caution, and red for stop.”

“Perfect,” she smiled, though her racing heart didn’t slow a beat.

“The last thing,” he continued, “is, hmmm, I’ve never had this conversation before so I’m not sure where to start.”

She sat still and silent, waiting for him to gather his thoughts, her nervous excitement growing.

“My ultimate goal for us, is that I will become your Master,” he breathed, his eyes penetrating hers, “but I will never call you my slave. For me, a slave is a person with no say, no will, and that isn’t how I see you and not something I would want, but being your Master means you belong to me, I mean, really belong, but to get there, to reach that intense intimacy, that’s the magic.”

“I, uh, understand,” she breathed.

“When you call me Sir, it just flows out of you, correct?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“You don’t call me that simply because I have told you to, you call me that because you feel it. That’s what will happen when you call me Master. It will happen naturally, and when it does it will be the moment you will truly belong to me, and we will have crossed that line. It comes from you, Belle, it doesn’t come from me.”

“Sir,” she whispered, “I feel so…I can’t explain it.”

“Come here,” he crooned, engulfing her in his arms. “This is a special day, a special moment, of course you feel…emotional…”
just as I do.

He let a few minutes pass before breaking his hold, then moving his lips to hers, he kissed her, a sweet, loving, warm kiss that helped to calm her thundering heart.

“Time to get started,” he smiled, and taking her hand, climbed off the bed and led her to the center of the open space in front of his throne-like chair.

“Stand here, feet about two feet apart, hands behind your back, eyes lowered,” he said firmly. “This is position number one.”

“Yes, Sir,” she softly replied.

“From this point on, no talking unless I ask you a direct question.”

She heard him walk away, then the sound of a box being ripped open, some rustling of plastic, and his footsteps as he returned and stood behind her.

His fingers danced across her cheeks before taking her wrists, and holding them at her waist, the open palm of his free hand slapped repeatedly. She kept her balance, and bit her lower lip to keep from squealing, but when his spanking hand moved around and cupped her breasts, lightly pinching her nipples, she could not contain a deep, longing moan.

“I’m going to place a collar around your neck. Please hold up your hair.”

It was something she’d fantasized about many times, and as the leather touched her neck she closed her eyes, sinking into the moment. She could feel him buckling it in the back, and a hot shower of longing washed over her, a longing to drop on her knees before him. She heard the snap of the leash as he attached it at the front, then a gentle tug, and opening her eyes she found he was standing in front of her.

“When I tug, you look up at me.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

“Kneel, knees apart, hands behind your neck. This is position two.”

Carefully she lowered herself down, and once settled, he presented the leash to her mouth.

“Hold this between your teeth and stare at your tits.”

Biting into the leather was oddly and intensely satisfying, and she sighed, loving the soft, rich texture, but her calm lasted only seconds as her eyes fell on the approaching end of a long, thin crop, whose tongue touched her nipples before lightly caressing them with a teasing, titillating, flicking motion. It was mesmerizing to watch, but when it lifted a few inches, she knew what was coming. Swatting down, it blasted a hot sting through her breast, and she bit down on the leash, grateful for its presence.

“Very good, Belle,” he murmured, moving the crop to its waiting twin.

It flicked and teased, and she shut her eyes tightly, waiting for the flicking to stop and the swat to hit, but she wasn’t permitted the luxury.

“If I wanted your eyes closed, I would have told you to close them, or placed a blindfold across them,” he scolded. “I believe my instruction was clear, and when I said watch your tits, that’s what I meant.”

Moving behind her, lifting the crop he struck a stinging blow, landing it against the center of her bottom, eliciting a loud yelp of pain.

“You do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you, nothing more, nothing less,” he finished sternly.

The reprimand sent a deep heat through her sex and a fresh wave of submission through her soul. Simon’s demeanor and attitude had deepened, and she was beginning to understand what he’d meant when he’d told her he wanted to take the two of them to a different level. This Simon was demanding and strict; he expected nothing but absolute and complete obedience, and she loved it.

Stepping in front of her, he placed the tongue against the unpunished nipple, and she watched, mesmerized, as it flicked lightly, then slapped down. Again she bit into the leather and winced with the sting, but when his fingers touched and fondled the tender, keening puckered nubs, she sighed heavily, and in spite of the biting sting across her backside, she fell into the warmth of his comforting caress.

“Drop to your hands and knees,” he directed, “arch your back and raise your chin.”

Immediately dropping down, her tits tingling and her ass burning, she could feel the heavy wetness between her legs, and hoped desperately he would touch her there, and bring her pleasure before more punishment.

“Spread your knees,” he instructed, fueling her hunger. “You are now in position three.”

As he walked around her, she could imagine how she looked; the black leather leash between her teeth, the black cashmere stockings up to her thighs, the same black cashmere covering her back down to her waist, framing her naked pink bottom, boasting its single red stripe, and she felt an unexpected sense of pride.

“Yes, you look divine,” he purred as if reading her mind, “and you feel divine, don’t you?”

Unable to speak with the leash in her mouth, she nodded her head.

“Give it to me,” he said gently.

Reaching down he picked up the black leather cord, patiently waiting as she opened her mouth to release it.

“You may speak. You feel divine, don’t you?” he repeated.

“Divine, yes, Sir,” she managed.

“And hot?”

“Ooooh, so hot, Sir,” she moaned, wriggling her hips.

“Let me check…” he muttered, moving behind her.

To her great relief he dropped his hand between her open legs and cupped her pussy, then squeezed gently before sliding his fingers into her velvet slit.

“Yes, very hot, very wet, very needy. This suits you, Belle, being so controlled.”

His teasing fingers tantalizingly toyed, and she squirmed against them, silently begging for more. He gave her more, but only for a moment before stepping away.

“Crawl forward,” he instructed, “were headed to the black bench.”

Looking ahead in the dim light, she saw the innocuous looking piece of furniture. It appeared similar to something one might have found in a gym, but it had elevated rests for her knees, and straps hanging from the sides.

“When we reach it, you’re to lift your knees on to the platforms, stretch forward and rest on your elbows, then put your head into the headrest.”

She hadn’t noticed the headrest, but as she crawled closer she saw it was just like the ones found on massage tables. Lifting her knees on to the padded panels, she leaned forward, and as she placed her elbows on the bench, and her head into the donut shaped pillow, she realized the position elevated her bottom high in the air. Staring at the floor below her, she felt the straps being secured over her calves, around the backs of her legs, and just above her waist.

“Feel comfortable?”

“Yes, Sir,” she managed, “and incredibly vulnerable.”

“You are,” he replied, moving his hand over her raised bottom.

She heard him moving away, then the tearing of another box, some rustling of paper, and he was back.

“Take a deep breath and relax,” he ordered, caressing her cheeks, “and if you get worried, that’s what you must do. Surrender and relax. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she mumbled.

Though his words only served to make her more nervous, she did as he said, breathing deeply, and telling herself to stay calm and centered.

“That’s good, just like that,” he said soothingly, but what happened next she didn’t expect. His finger, covered in something moist and cool, touched her puckered back hole. Instinctively she tried to recoil, but she couldn’t move, the straps holding her tightly in place.

“Relax and surrender,” he said firmly, touching again, slowly inserting the unwelcome intruder.

Wincing and whimpering, she almost called out her cautionary safe word, but fought the desire, instead taking a long, deep breath.

You said you wanted to explore, to learn, to do different things. Now is your chance to prove you meant what you said. Trust him.

Deeply sighing, she forced herself to let go of the resistance, and as his finger moved gently, circling and probing, she released her fears.

“Good girl, I’m so proud of you,” he crooned.

His words washed over her like a gentle shower, and when she felt his finger depart, and something else enter, something bigger, she focused on her breathing, and allowed its entry.

“That’s it, now for your reward,” he said softly.

A delicious buzzing suddenly surged through her bottom, gushing into her sex, and she wailed in pleasure. Seconds later his cock teased her entrance, and though she tried to thrust back, to wriggle and squirm, it was impossible, her binds preventing any movement.