I soon took notice when he returned though, because he was carrying several different implements, some of which I didn’t recognise.
The first thing he held up was a dildo.
‘I’m assuming you’ve used a vibrator before?’ He bent down on one knee.
‘Yes,’ I said, not wanting to sound utterly naïve.
He looked up at me, sharply. ‘I thought not,’ he said. ‘No wonder you have such lurid fantasies, Miss Anderton. You’ve been hopelessly repressed.’
I didn’t answer, but his words hit home. Was he right? Leo had been more the missionary-style man, coming quickly, before turning over to go to sleep. It was one of the many reasons his behaviour in Hull had been so utterly devastating. Maybe I was repressed.
‘Not for much longer, anyway, Angel,’ he said, his fingers teasing apart my folds as he began to insert it. ‘Don’t you worry.’
Far from mortifying me, his words actually consoled me. He was right. It was about time I had a decent sex life. If Leo could see me now, I thought to myself, and, for once, the idea didn’t horrify me.
I felt every inch as he pushed it into me, filling me up with it until only an inch or two were left outside. He must have turned a switch because, all at once, it began to move inside me, purring against my walls and into my folds until the vibrations hit my clit. I gasped. No wonder they were so popular with women – I wished, at that moment, I’d bought myself one years ago.
‘Now, Angel,’ he said, holding it in place and using his thumb to toy with my clit. ‘You have my permission to close your legs. Snap them together – you’re going to hold that in place.’
I brought my thighs together as tightly as I could, but I couldn’t see how I was going to manage to keep it in – it was so heavy.
‘Now,’ he said, standing up. ‘Show me that delicious ass. I’ve a paddle just waiting to meet it.’
He held it up to show me. It was black leather, with tiny silver studs across it. ‘It won’t hurt…much. Not unless I choose it to.’
I pushed my buttocks out, which actually helped with keeping the vibrator in place. He moved around behind me and…
Nothing, for the longest time. Just as I thought he’d changed his mind, he brought it down across my ass, my skin blooming into heat under its whack. I drew in my breath and pitched forward, the vibrator nearly falling out as I did so.
He caught it just in time, thrusting it back into position. ‘Say a number,’ he said. ‘Between one and ten.’
‘One,’ I said, instinctively.
‘Are you sure, Angel? It could be one super-hard one to make up for all the missed opportunities.’
I thought again, trying to second-guess him. In the end, I took the middle road – just like so many times in my life. I hated myself, even as I said it.
‘Five, then.’
‘Five it is, then,’ he said. ‘And this is your real punishment, okay?’
‘Okay.’ As nervous as I was, I couldn’t help but be turned on. The vibrator wasn’t helping – stimulating my clit non-stop as I stood with my ass sticking out, waiting to receive a spanking from my protector.
‘After this, your…misdemeanours will never be mentioned again, okay?’
‘Okay.’
‘And I’ll be able to look at a bus without wincing.’
I was actually laughing as he brought it down across my ass. Whack. I soon stopped.
‘Count, Angel.’
I gave a gasp – half of pleasure, half of pain and, for the first time, I understood why people enjoyed the mix. It heightened everything, brought it into sharper focus. The throbbing in my clit was nearly as strong as the throbbing of my ass.
Sorry?’ I said, coming back into myself. I didn’t follow.
‘Count – the strokes, and say thank you, or I’ll begin again.’
‘One,’ I said, determined to take my punishment like a true sub. ‘Thank you, Sir.’
‘Good girl.’ He punctuated his words with another crack of the paddle.
Whack.
‘Two…thank you, Sir.’ My clit was practically aching with the stimulation and that, coupled with the sting of the paddle made it hard to concentrate and even harder to speak.
Whack.
‘Three. Thank you. Sir.’ Each stroke sent shockwaves of pleasure and pain through me. I could barely distinguish which was which by now and it hardly mattered. I was actually getting off on this – something I’d never have thought possible.
Whack.
I could feel something building, but I could barely tell what it was. Was it the smarting of my buttocks growing stronger, or the pulsing of my clit?
‘Four, Sir. Thank you, Sir,’ I groaned.
‘Good girl. One more, now – grit your teeth.’
I was already gritting them, I realised, and he knew it. I clenched my jaw tight, and waited for the final stroke. When it came it was almost a blur. No sooner had the paddle come down across my cheeks, than he was right there, behind me, pulling out the vibrator and replacing it with his length, ramming into me, almost in desperation.
After the non-stop onslaught of sensory stimulation, the sensation of his warm chest against my back, his hips bucking against my ass, his cock filling me far more than even the vibrator had done, was too much for me to endure. I was still whispering ‘Five, Sir – thank you, Sir,’ between my gasps, when we both came together, my arms still chained above me, his semen flooding my spasming walls, his kisses smothering my neck and shoulders like raindrops.
Thirty Eight
Him
It was her phone that woke us the following morning. I’d released her from her cuffs, massaging her wrists and shoulders as she leaned against me, the heels of her boots buckling beneath her. The play session – mild as it had been – had clearly exhausted her last supplies of energy. When I’d finished soothing her joints, I scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom.
She fell asleep as I was unzipping her boots and I moved her up the bed, covering her – still in her corset – with the sheets. She stirred briefly, as I was arranging the pillows under her head.
‘Did you enjoy that, Angel?’ I whispered into her ear.
‘It was beautiful,’ she muttered. ‘Thank you, Sir.’
‘Nat’ll do now, gorgeous.’ I pushed a strand of hair from her cheek and kissed it lightly. ‘Playtime’s over.’
‘Nat,’ she muttered and rolled into me.
I took her in my arms and laid there for a while, looking from the glitter of the stars over the London skyline down to the silk-wrapped star beside me. In some ways, the whole episode felt like a dream and, in the way of dreams, I lost all sense of reality and forgot to alter my alarm.
She was already sitting on the end of the bed when I awoke. She was pulling on the sun dress she’d worn for the picnic the day before and talking on the phone.
‘Can you meet me in the Ladies?’ she was saying. She sounded panic-stricken. ‘There’s a bag under my desk with my work clothes from yesterday in it. I’ll be…’ She turned to look at the clock beside my bed. ‘Fifteen minutes…twenty tops.’
I sprang out of bed. ‘Shit, gorgeous – I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ she said, turning to look at me over her shoulder. Her eyes were wide with panic. ‘I didn’t hear my alarm. Liv rang four times before I woke up – she was worried sick. Max is doing his nut.’
‘Finish getting dressed and I’ll drop you off.’ I threw open my wardrobe and grabbed the nearest t-shirt and a pair of jeans.
‘I can get a cab.’
‘No way, Angel.’ I picked up my phone and dialled Stephens’s number, pulling on my jeans with the other hand. ‘It’s me. Be ready out front, please, immediately.’
I’d have driven myself, but Stephens was already on standby to take me to a meeting at the Castle, later on. I didn’t like the fact that Grace was so stressed out about Max. If Stephens drove, he could drop us off directly outside and I could go in with her – have a quiet word.