Yes, Justin (4 page)

“Tell me what it feels like.” The timbre of his voice was low and smooth.

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him if he was considering shoving a butt plug up his ass, but she refrained. They could save that for later. For now, he was in charge. She was just beginning to understand the full weight of what it meant to be a submissive, to give herself completely over to another person. She loved Justin, but she had never surrendered to him. All of their sex had been about mutual satisfaction.

She was intensely grateful that Justin was there. This would not have worked with anyone but the man she loved with her whole heart and soul.

“I feel full. I feel…” She stopped, and the heat of another blush stole up her neck. She looked down, focusing on his gray tennis shoes. A silver stripe ran along the side, tapering at the toe. She had bought those for him when he indicated an interest in resuming jogging, but she hadn’t known he wore them.

He lifted her chin, his firm grasp guiding her to face the steel in his eyes. “No, Trish. None of this. You will not hide from me, and you will not censor your thoughts and feelings. That is what got our marriage in trouble in the first place. I don’t blame you. I do it too. It stops now.”

He had never before used this domineering tone with her. A wave of desire further weakened her ability to stand. She gripped his arm. “I feel like I belong to you. I feel possessed, sexy, loved. I feel alive for the first time in years.”

Justin enveloped her in his arms. He smoothed his hands down her back and kissed a path along her temple and forehead.

“Good,” he said. “I want you to feel like that. You do belong to me, Trish. You are mine. You are sexy, and you are loved.”

Complex emotions, things she didn’t want to analyze or face, burned near her heart. She gripped him hard, trembling with the force of her emotions, and he held her until it subsided. Then he released her.

“We need to get going.” He spread a towel on the passenger seat and buckled her in, never once offering her the option to dress.

The seat kept the plug firmly planted in her ass. Justin eased the car back onto the road. The vibrations of the tires on the road magnified and thrummed in her ass.

“Play with your clit,” he said, breaking the silence. “I want to hear you come.”

“Yes, Justin.” She was wound so tight, it wouldn’t take long.

She dipped her fingers into her juices and swirled them around her clit. Not bothering with a slow build, she set a fast pace and climaxed in less than a minute.

Resting her head back against the seat, she smiled and closed her eyes. “Thank you, Justin. I needed that.” She couldn’t imagine how he was holding out. The bulge in his jeans hadn’t diminished as he drove.

“Don’t stop.”

Her eyes flew open. They had tried this kind of thing before, only to stop when her overstimulated clit couldn’t handle more. “I need a break.”

He slammed on the brakes. She braced one hand on the dashboard and both feet on the floor. “What the hell are you doing?”

Too late, she saw that this was no time to berate him for his driving skills. He grabbed the back of her head, fisting her hair in his hand, and pulled her close to him. Passion possessed the kiss until he seemed to get himself back under control. He released her, and once again he exited the SUV.

Butterflies ran races in Patricia’s stomach. The skin of her ass burned and tingled. Would he spank her again? She wasn’t sure she was sufficiently recovered from the last one.

The back door opened and closed. Her door opened. With a swiftness she hadn’t thought he possessed, he handcuffed her wrists to the head support. She watched, fascinated, as he wrapped a soft strap around each leg just above her knees. They fastened with Velcro. When he secured the straps to a steel pole, she understood what he was doing. This device would keep her legs spread.

Next, he produced scissors and proceeded to cut away her tank top and bra. Now she was completely naked. Anyone who saw the car would be able to see her breasts.

He must have seen she was about to protest. “Not a word, Trish. You’ve already earned two punishments. I’m okay with giving you as many as you need. You will learn that you are mine. You belong to me, and you will do what I say, when I say it, and exactly how I want it done.”

Recognizing the steely determination of the man who had relentlessly pursued her in college, she shut up.

He sucked one of her nipples into his hot mouth, biting and stretching it to a taut point. He pulled a pair of tweezers from his pocket and pinched the wet peak. Patricia yelped as it tightened, and she realized the tweezers were actually a clamp. Electric desire shot from her nipple to her clit.

He repeated his actions on her other breast. Patricia arched her back, seeking more of this new kind of stimulation. When he finished, Justin stood back, admiring his handiwork. Twin clamps, attached to a chain, dangled from her nipples. Every breath she took caused a tiny tug that sent sparks to her clit. He had ordered her to masturbate, and she hadn’t complied. Now her hands were cuffed to the seat behind her head. She begged silently, knowing he wasn’t in the mood to hear anything she had to say.

Justin reached for her pussy, feeling for her hole. She closed her eyes, secure in the knowledge he would find her clit soon.

She was wrong. When he abandoned her again, he left behind a small object lodged in her vagina. He held up a remote and gazed at her with a triumphant grin.

“Punishment time, Trish. You’ll learn to do as you’re told eventually.” He pressed a button, and the tiny vibrator hummed to life.

The vibrations were small, not enough to bring her to orgasm, just enough to keep her on the edge. This was going to be a long drive.

She was quiet for the most part. Every now and again, a little whimper would escape. She was being very, very good, but he didn’t necessarily want that from her. Something had driven her to contact Oasis, something more than his absence from their marriage. There was no way she was going to tell him voluntarily.

Besides, he hadn’t spent all those weeks taking BDSM lessons from Oasis to squander this opportunity. Too many nights, he had joined her in bed and talked himself out of tying her to the headboard and waking her up. His innocent wife had no idea of the things he wanted to do to her. She had no idea of the desires she had created with that damn questionnaire she’d filled out.

If she had just been honest with him instead of confiding in strangers who ran a fantasy fulfillment service, they could have taken those classes together. He could have practiced on her. He would have acted out each and every one of her fantasies and thrown in a few he’d developed, and their relationship wouldn’t be so tenuous. They wouldn’t be struggling with how to share their wants and desires with each other.

The kind of openness and communication they could have established in those classes couldn’t help but bleed into other aspects of their relationship. Perhaps that was what had drawn her to this in the first place. Perhaps she saw BDSM as a way to fix the source of the problems in their relationship.

Justin sneaked a quick peek at Trish. Her soft brown curls, just long enough to brush against the tops of her shoulders, bounced into further disarray. He loved her curls. He had annoyed her on more than one occasion by playing with them. He liked to pull on one until it was as straight as it could be and then release it, taking great joy in watching it bounce back into place.

Trish hated when he did that. She also didn’t care to be called Trish. He was the only one who ever got away with it. She once said it sounded right coming from him.

She had an amazing body that only seemed to get better with age. It was curvier now. Her hips were wider, a result of two pregnancies. She sagged in a few places, but that seemed to matter to her far more than to him. He wanted to touch and taste every inch of her, to convince her that her beauty still captivated him. He knew she didn’t consider herself attractive anymore.

When she said she felt sexy, it had taken every ounce of his self-control to refrain from letting loose with a victory yell.

He hadn’t lived up to her expectations in the past few years, but she hadn’t been honest about her discontent. They would begin working on that now. He aimed to begin making up for his part of the problem this weekend. Trish deserved better. She deserved to have all of him.

He wondered how she would take the news when he told her that he had taken a voluntary demotion to free up his time. It meant less money, but he didn’t honestly think she would care about that. Frowning, he squelched the urge to swear out loud. He hadn’t even thought to consult her about taking a demotion—though then she would have wondered where he went two nights each week and every other Saturday afternoon.

She whimpered again. He checked her out. Her cheeks were flushed, nearly as red as her backside. In a million years, he’d never thought the act of spanking his wife would make him so hard it hurt. Every time he shifted, the abrasive denim of his jeans torqued his need up another notch.

He dialed up the remote. Her body jerked, and her eyes flew open. She turned her head, regarding him with wide eyes. He grinned back at her and turned on the radio.

Her whimpers turned into desperate squeaks. She strained to close her legs, but the bar between her knees prevented that from happening. Her arms moved, her back arched, and she yanked at the handcuffs.

“Justin, oh, Justin.”

He loved the way she said his name. At home, she never used it. She almost never spoke directly to him. She sent the girls to him instead.
“Go ask Daddy to start the grill. Go ask Daddy if he has to work this weekend.”

He loved being a father. He loved that his little girls looked so much like Trish. They both had her kind soul and generous heart too. She was a giver, his Trish. He hadn’t understood what that meant until the second week of bondage classes when the instructor explained that most submissives were givers. As her dom, it was his job to make sure she got what she needed, sexually and emotionally.

The noises she made grew louder and more urgent. He reduced the speed of the small egg he had placed inside her.

She groaned and shifted to look at him. “You’re going to kill me this way, aren’t you? You’re going to tease me until I die from frustration.”

He wanted to stop the car and fuck her, but he didn’t. She had to accept the fact that he was the boss. Besides, GPS put their destination at only fifteen minutes away.

The small opening announcing the narrow road to the cabin wasn’t more than a brief break in the tree line. The ruts in the driveway caused both of them to rock back and forth. Justin braced himself with one hand on the door. Trish moaned loudly.

He glanced over again. The way her elbows bent next to her head obscured the expression on her face. He liked the way she looked, bound and helpless, completely at his mercy. Well, the road’s mercy, at any rate. Judging by the noises she made, her pleasure intensified as the car bounced over the ruts.

She sighed when he stopped in front of the cabin. Leaning forward as far as she could go with her hands bound behind her neck to the headrest, she peered at it through desire-heavy eyes. She licked her lips. He noticed they were drying out from all the panting she had been doing. He made a mental note to see to them while he bathed her.

“It’s small.”

He knew what she was thinking. Given how much money they had both paid for this “vacation,” they had expected a larger place. From the specs he had seen, he anticipated three rooms: a kitchen/living room, a bedroom, and a five-star bathroom. The living and sleeping areas would be equipped with bondage equipment. The brochure promised a multitude of equipment, a selection ranging from a St. Andrew’s cross to a simple flogger. For the bathroom, it had boasted a jetted tub and a massage table, everything he would need to properly care for his slave. The kitchen would even be stocked with their favorite foods, which they had listed in the detailed questionnaires they’d filled out.

“Don’t worry about it.” Images of his lovely wife in full slave mode floated before his eyes. He had been masturbating to this fantasy ever since he responded to the call from Oasis and agreed to be trained as her dom. “You’ll spend most of your time chained to the bed or kneeling at my feet.”

When she didn’t respond, he swallowed his trepidation and looked at her. Those dark brown eyes stared at him speculatively, and he knew she was wondering how this would change their relationship once they returned home. Justin didn’t have an answer for her. That was one of the things they were going to discuss while they were here.

“Are you going to untie me?”

He grinned. “Eventually.” Without elaborating, he leaped from the SUV and went around back to grab their bags. She hadn’t brought much. He had specified that she bring no clothing with her, save what she would wear to return home.

He disappeared inside. Trish could wait in the car for a bit longer. He had been hard for too long. If he didn’t take himself in hand, he was going to fuck her before he got her inside the cabin.

It was as he expected. The door opened to the combination living room and kitchenette. One wall showed two open doors. One door led to a bathroom. The other led to the bedroom.

Justin looked around for a bit, taking in the decor. Dark wood, leather, and polished chrome made up the bulk of the furniture. It wasn’t to his taste, but he found it perfect for this weekend. Every single piece sported places to tie his slave. He could bend her over the back of the chair and bind her wrists to the arms. He could splay her on the coffee table and secure her in a variety of positions. An assortment of whips and other implements hung from the walls as featured decorations. There were no pictures, only mirrors.

His cock jerked, pulsing painfully as he pictured her lying spread-eagle on the table while he ate dinner. He could lick her between bites. He could hold ice cream to her clit, and she wouldn’t be able to escape.

Justin dropped his suitcase onto the bed and loosened his pants. He knew this relief would only be temporary.