Tied to You (9 page)

My mind is racing, and as I remember the crop, I find myself tensing, slightly scared about what’s to come. Without warning, I hear a whoosh and then my arse is on fire as the crop connects with my already sensitive skin. I scream out in response, already tensing for the next strike, when I feel Alex’s cool hand running over my hot skin. “Fucking beautiful,” I hear him murmur before planting a kiss on my behind. He moves away and I brace myself for the next hit. When it arrives, it is painful, but now that I know what I am expecting it is less scary. Alex repeats his soothing action with his cool hand and his kiss, and I finally start to relax when I realise that it is not going to get any more painful than this. Alex starts to work a pattern on my behind, but I am hardly aware of it as my mind seems to slip away, lost in the sensations and the drumbeat.

The throb between my legs is desperate and I am completely consumed by my need for release. I am vaguely aware of the crop hitting the floor and my ankles being released before I am being flipped over. The sheets are cold and fresh on my painful behind, bringing relief to my overheated skin. The mattress dips and I feel Alex between my thighs, a pillow being slid under my hips. And then he is inside of me and I cry out in relief. A hand comes down and pinches my clit and I shatter as my orgasm consumes me. The hard thrusts continue and the angle of Alex’s cock makes the pressure on my G-spot unbearable. Just as I catch my breath, I feel the tightening of my pelvis once again, the sparks in my abdomen and then I am falling apart, ripped to shreds. Alex never stops his relentless thrusts as I come over and over around him, calling out that I can’t take anymore. Finally, I hear him grunt as he finds his own release and I feel his body collapse onto mine.

I am still floating away, detached from my body, my mind still trying to comprehend the mass of sensations I have just been subjected to, when I feel Alex move off me. With great tenderness, he removes my blindfold and releases my wrists, rubbing them to bring back the blood supply. I am vaguely aware of him disposing of the condom and then bringing out a soft blanket and a couple more pillows from the chest of drawers. He slips a pillow under my head, settles the blanket over me and then climbs in beside me. He pulls me into his embrace, gently kissing my hair as he runs his fingers over my body.

I slowly come back to myself in Alex’s arms, and I find myself staring up at him in wonder. “That was…” I whisper, trying to find the words. “That was phenomenal. I never knew I could feel like that,” I say. Suddenly unsure, I need to know if it was good for him as well. “Was that okay for you? Did it get you off?” I ask, a little afraid that maybe I am not enough for him.

“Oh, Liv, that was spectacular, baby. You did so well. To answer your question, yes, it was good for me. It was actually fan-fucking-tastic,” Alex responds, smiling down on me.

“Oh, good,” I murmur. I reach up with my hand and cup Alex’s cheek, stroking his jaw with my thumb as I look deeply into his eyes. I do the one thing that I have been craving since the clock struck midnight on New Year’s and bring his lips down to mine. The kiss starts off slow, but when I feel a small bit of resistance on Alex’s part, I open my eyes to see the battle raging inside of him. He wants this tenderness, but some part of his brain is telling him he is not capable, and so he is fighting it. I do my best to ignore the war and focus on moving my lips against his. I pour my feelings for Alex into the kiss, and finally, I feel him start to respond. He nips my lower lip and I open my mouth to give him access.

I don’t know how long we make out for, but eventually the evening’s activities take their toll and I feel my eyelids growing heavy. Sensing my tiredness, Alex breaks the kiss and rolls me over so that he is spooning me, his warmth enveloping me. We really should go upstairs, but I guess neither one of us wants to move. I feel Alex moving his hand around the edge of the bed and I vaguely wonder what on earth he is doing until the lights go out.

“Doesn’t do intimacy, my arse,” I say softly, and I feel Alex smile into my hair before planting a soft kiss on my head.

“Sweet dreams, Liv” is the last thing I hear before exhaustion claims me.

A week has passed since our night in Alex’s dungeon and I have not laid eyes on him during that time. That’s not to say we haven’t communicated; I have had plenty of emails, text messages and even bunches of flowers. Yet every night I fall asleep alone in my own bed, and wake up alone, the only sign that Alex has even been home being the dent in the pillow next to mine and the smell of him on my sheets. I am so frustrated I want to scream.

I am pottering around in the kitchen after a long day at work, making myself a cup of tea, when I hear the front door slam so hard I swear the hinges rattled. I make my way through to the entrance hall and look around, wondering what the hell is going on. I spy Alex’s coat flung on the rack, and I cast my eye around looking for clues. I hear more thuds and, as I spot the open door to the basement, a ginormous crash. I am apprehensive now. This is completely at odds with Alex’s normal calm and collected behaviour, so I creep down the stairs as quietly as possible, wondering what I am going to discover.

I cast my eye around the room as my feet hit the final stair, and all I can see is carnage. A chest of drawers has been flung over, the mattress is lying half off the podium and I can see that a rack of equipment has been torn off the walls. Alex is pacing like a caged animal, and in the low light, I can see the tension radiating off his taut frame. I watch as Alex mutters to himself, stoking the rage inside of him until finally he turns and puts his fist through one of the walls. I flinch and draw back up the stairs as I contemplate what I need to do.

My mind is swirling and suddenly seizes on a piece of information sitting in my subconscious. In all our conversations this week the one thing that really stuck in my mind was Alex’s need for control, which was not something I had ever really noticed about him. I think back and recall the email he sent:

Liv,

You ask me why I go to The Club…Well, why do people join gyms? Why do people join tennis clubs and so forth? I guess the first answer is to be around like-minded people. But I guess, for me, it is my way of centering myself. Some people do yoga; I spank some woman’s arse. No matter what is going on in my life, whether it is business or personal, I can deal with it when I am going to The Club regularly. It is really only there that I can find the peace, the calm even, that I need to function.

I don’t know if that makes any sense to you.

Alex

In an instant, I know what I need to do. I may not know the cause of Alex’s anger, but I think I have a way of calming him down. Before I can think too much about what I am about to do, I quietly slip out of my clothes. Naked as the day I was born, I make my way back down the stairs as silently as possible. I pause for a moment at the bottom, steeling myself for the unknown that I am about to encounter. With Alex’s back turned towards me, I slip silently into the centre of the room. I kneel down on my haunches, tucking my feet under my bum, spreading my legs out like I had read about. I bow my head and rest my upturned hands on my thighs. My body is shaking; the adrenaline and nerves threaten to overpower me, but I am determined to do my best. To be the perfect little submissive.

I stay as unmoving as I possibly can, willing my limbs to still as I wait for Alex to notice my presence, keeping watch for his reaction from underneath my lashes. After what feels like ages, Alex finally whips his head around and sees me. His eyes grow wide, and for the first time since I have been watching him, his agitated body quietens.

“What the hell are you doing, Liv?” Alex hisses.

It takes a moment for me to think of the words I need to say. “You look agitated, sir. I thought perhaps I could be of assistance?” I am hoping I have struck the right balance of submissiveness. The moment ‘sir’ passes my lips, however, I notice Alex’s body language shift; already the tension is leaving him and he seems looser somehow. His eyes have become hooded and I can see the vein in his neck pulsing.

“Oh, you did, did you?” The Domly tone has returned and, weirdly, I feel myself becoming wet with his words. “Well then, be a good little sub and get yourself over there.” Alex points at what I now know to be a whipping bench and I feel myself growing cold with fear. Mutely, I comply and I wait for further instructions. “Bend over the bench and put your arms in front of you.”

I do as I am told and wait as Alex cuffs my wrists and secures them to the bench. Despite the padding, my knees grind into the base, making me feel uncomfortable—though I guess that is probably the whole purpose, in addition to how exposed I am currently feeling with my arse in the air. I watch as Alex regards the floor strewn with equipment. His face is calm and neutral and I haven’t got a clue as to what he is thinking. My heart sinks when I see him finally bend down and pick up the one thing I was truly dreading: a cane.

Just the thought of what Alex is going to do with it has my body trembling. He sees my reaction and a look of triumph stretches across his features. Oh-so slowly, Alex walks towards me as he weighs the cane in his hand, occasionally bringing it down on his palm with a soft tap. The anticipation is killing me, and not in a good way either.

He moves behind me, but I don’t dare turn my head to see where he is. Yet my senses are on high alert, telling me that he is only a couple of feet away. I hear the sound of shoes being kicked off, and in my mind’s eye, I see him rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. Then he is back and I can finally see him out of the corner of my eye. I see him balancing the cane in his hands once more, twirling it in his deft fingers, like it is a maker of magic rather than the monster I think it is.

I close my eyes, trying to blot out my fear. Moments later, I hear a woosh as the cane slices through the air and my buttocks explode as the slice of pain sears across my skin. It lingers, a sharp, stinging sensation that fades only slightly into a dull burn. “Count it out with me!” commands Alex, and I yell out “One” through gritted teeth, loathe to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

Without warning, the second blow falls and reflexively I cry out “Two!” This time, however, tears have formed in the corner of my eyes and I feel one slide down my cheek. I have no idea how many strikes he is planning on giving me and this unknown variable makes the anticipation even worse. I know for a fact that I am going to have some serious bruises in the morning. A third falls and I scream in response, my arse raw and on fire. Somehow, I sense he is taking care to not hit me on the same spot twice, but it doesn’t make a difference to the pain that is now all-consuming.

Two more rain down on me and I am sobbing uncontrollably. My whole body is shaking and somewhere in the back of my mind it occurs to me that I could use my safeword. The word ‘daisy’ flickers in my mind’s eye like a neon sign, but I know deep down that I won’t call it out. Something is driving my need to prove to Alex that I can take whatever he wants to dish out, and I am not sure it is healthy for me, but I am going to do it anyway.

“Five more,” Alex grunts through gritted teeth and I can hear him breathing heavily, though I am unsure whether it is due to arousal or exertion. I don’t say anything in response and simply wait for the sixth to fall. I notice this time that, despite the pain it still inflicts, there was less power behind the strike. My sobbing continues, despite my best efforts to rein in my emotions, as another two strikes fall, each slightly lighter than the last. By the time the tenth comes down, it is barely a tap on my ravaged skin and I cannot think straight through the agony. My sobs have changed to a strange keening noise that sounds alien even to my ears.

“Oh fuck! What the fuck have I done?” I hear Alex mutter to himself, his tone empty and desolate, as he steps away from me, before the world suddenly goes black.

~~~~~~~~~~

I claw my way out of the blackness to find that I am lying on my front, in a bed. Instantly I know that I am not in my bed by the scents that tease my senses; I am in Alex’s gigantic bed. The coolness around me tells me that I am alone and I spend a moment mentally checking on my body. My bottom smarts, but I know nothing is broken so I crack open an eyelid. I cast my eyes around the room, using the moonlight filtering through the curtains to guide them until they come to rest on Alex, sitting across from me in an armchair. His trousers are rumpled and he has stripped off the shirt he was wearing earlier, leaving him in only a white singlet. He is watching me intently, a look of abject sadness on his face.

“Hey,” I whisper. “Are you okay?”

“She asks if I am okay…” Alex mutters, as if he is talking to someone. “What the hell?”

“Alex, seriously, are you okay?” I repeat, wincing as I roll over onto my back and sit up. In an instant, Alex is by my side, trying to support me. I bat his hands away, grimacing with irritation. “I am fine, Alex. Really!”

“Oh, Liv, what the hell have I done?” Alex asks, resting his forehead against mine.

I reach up my hand and cup Alex’s face, staring up into his troubled eyes. “Oh, Alex,” I sigh. “Stop this. I am not broken. My arse might feel like it is on fire, but no harm done,” I say, attempting some humour to try to lighten the situation. I can feel that we are both walking an emotional tightrope and one wrong move might send either of us spiralling into oblivion.

“Liv. Oh, Liv,” Alex says, his voice hollow. “I could have really hurt you, you know. I wanted to…” he trails off.

“But you didn’t,” I soothe, running my fingers across the soft bristles of his day-old stubble. “What happened? What set you off? I have never seen you like that,” I say.

Alex sighs and, at that moment, looks completely broken. He runs his hand through his hair and pinches the bridge of his nose as if he is steeling himself to deliver bad news. “I have spent the whole of the last week, since our night together, trying to understand why the hell you seem to want me. Each night I would come into your room and lie beside you as you slept, beating myself up for corrupting you. This beautiful angel who is nothing but kind and compassionate to everyone she meets and I have utterly defiled and marked her.” I go to interrupt, but Alex holds up his hand, so I stay silent. “I tried to come up with every reason to make you leave, to persuade you that I am no good for you, but every fibre of my being was telling me that I wanted you to stay. I realised that I had fallen in love with you and probably had been for a while.” I gasp softly at his words but let Alex continue. We’ll definitely be returning to the whole ‘love’ thing.

“This morning I had made up my mind that tonight I was going to come home and tell you how I felt, ask you to give me a chance…” he trails off.

“So what happened?” I ask gently.

“Your father turned up at my office today,” Alex states flatly, his eyes filled with a grief that I don’t understand.

“What the hell?” I gasp. What on earth does my dad have to do with any of this? I haven’t seen him since I was thirteen. “I…I don’t understand…”

“Well, it seems like your father has not been as absent as you thought. He has been keeping tabs on you since your mom threw him out, and then when you and I got together…” The expression on Alex’s face tells me that he is wrestling with some inner demon.

“Just tell me, please, Alex,” I plead. My heart is hammering in my chest and a pit of dread seems to have opened up in my stomach.

“Goddamn. That piece of shit came into my office today to blackmail me, Liv. Somehow he knew everything about me, even had some rather explicit photos of me at The Club. He threatened to leak them if I didn’t pay him a hundred thousand pounds.” I leap out of the bed and start pacing agitatedly as I try to take in everything he is telling me. “And then here’s the kicker, Liv. If this had been about you and your well-being, then I could have totally understood a protectiveness on his part, but the fucker…” I hear the break in his voice. “The fucker didn’t even ask about you. He just wanted the money.”

I don’t even realise that I am crying until Alex is moving across to me and enveloping me in his arms. “I…I am so sorry, Alex,” I sob. “This is all my fault.”

“What the hell, Liv?” Alex hooks a finger under my chin and forces me to look up at him. “How is any of this your fault?” he asks, a serious expression on his face.

“He’s my father,” I say simply, between my sobs. Before I can say anything further, Alex scoops me up and returns us both to the bed. Settling with his back to the padded headboard, Alex cradles me in his arms, tucking the duvet around us both. He waits for my crying to cease, all the while murmuring soft reassurances in my ear.

The tears finally abate and a question suddenly pops into my head. “How does he have pictures of you?”

A hard look crosses Alex’s face and his jaw tightens. “I have an idea, but I need to check a few things out before I know for sure. Cameras aren’t allowed in the club.” Alex swallows hard. “I need to check with the club records to work out exactly when they were, but I think they were just before Christmas.”

“What are we going to do?” I whisper, staring up into Alex’s troubled eyes.

“
We
are not going to do anything.” Alex stresses the word ‘we’ and I find myself instantly shaking my head knowing that I can’t leave him to sort out my mess. “I am going to handle this, Liv. There is no need for you to get involved,” Alex says in a vain attempt to reassure me.

“But I can’t let him do this. You have worked so hard to keep this under wraps, and then I come into your life and everything is ruined.” I feel dreadful and have no idea how to fix this situation.