A Talent for Surrender (15 page)

Dan struggled against his bonds, but he was powerless. The leather creaked and the straps dug into his flesh but he could barely move. He hung his head and waited. He could smell the leather and the sharp tang of his own sweat.

He had no idea where Sadie was and he daren’t lift his head to look. He heard her heels clacking against the floor and he worked out that she was walking around the bottom of the bench behind him. She took up position on his left side.

Dan held his breath and closed his eyes. He waited for the sound of the crop swishing through the air and the moment of pain that would follow. He could feel the tip of his cock rubbing against the rough leather inside his codpiece. He heard Dave and Dennis’s trainered feet moving softly across the floor. He imagined the camera focusing in on his soon-to-be striped behind.

He lifted up his head and looked over his shoulder. ‘Does my bum look big in this?’ Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sadie’s arm rising into the air. He heard the crop swishing through the air and he gasped and his body juddered as it landed across both buttocks. It stung and burned, a moment of agony that quickly dissolved into something he could only describe as pleasure. He lowered his head.

The crop swished and slashed across his behind. He felt the sharp throb of pain and, a moment later, a hot flash of excitement and contentment crashed over him. He imagined dark red weals forming on his skin and the camera focusing in on every shameful detail.

His cock was rigid and throbbing. Sadie gave him three strokes in quick succession. His body jolted forwards and the front of his thighs banged against the bench. The impact moved his erection inside the codpiece, making it tingle.

Sweat poured down his face and into his eyes. Sadie whipped him over and over again. His body juddered and shook. His arse was burning, tingling, throbbing.

He lost count of the strokes but he could hear Sadie panting from the effort and grunting from exertion. The leather beneath him was slick with sweat and he was itchy and uncomfortable beneath the sheepskin-lined restraints. He heard the crop clatter to the floor and Sadie bent down beside his head. She pushed his wet hair off his face and wiped the sweat off his brow with her fingers. She leaned forwards and laid her forehead against his.

The sound of her panting throbbed in his ears and he could feel her hot breath on his face.

‘Well . . . we’re not making wisecracks now, are we?’

When Dan had showered and changed Sadie took him up to the kitchen for coffee and brownies. She poured a slug of brandy into his first cup and he gulped it down. She watched him drink, an expression in her eyes that he couldn’t read. She sipped her own coffee and nibbled at a brownie silently, never taking her eyes off him.

He drained his cup and slid it silently across the table for a refill.

‘Do you want brandy in it this time?’

‘No thanks.’ He watched her pouring the coffee. She refilled her own cup and put the pot down. ‘You’ve been staring at me . . .’

‘And now you’re staring at me.’ She set his cup down in front of him.

‘Trying to work out what you were thinking.’

‘Did it occur to you to ask?’ She smiled.

‘OK. So what were you thinking?’ Dan picked up his coffee and blew on it.

‘What a complex man you are . . . and what a showman.’

‘Thank you – I think.’

‘Oh, it’s a compliment I assure you. I live half my life behind a mask. I can hardly blame you for retreating behind yours.’ She sipped her coffee. ‘But you do realise you won’t be able to play it for laughs when it’s just you and me? Then, it will have to be real.’

Dan nodded. ‘Yes. I promise. I’ll be myself, no mask, no pretence. Just you, me and the chains.’

‘Do you know, Dan, that millions of people indulge in kink every day without the need to even give it a name. They come from every walk of life, classes, races and backgrounds. Everybody’s doing it, have done for centuries. Don’t make the mistake that whips and chains are what makes a person kinky.’

‘I’m not sure what you mean.’ Dan selected a brownie.

‘How many relationships do you know where there’s a real power dynamic? One person has it and the other hasn’t and that’s the way they both like it yet neither of them has ever heard of domination or submission and has no desire to be addressed as master.’

‘I think I understand. One of my women friends recently got married to a much younger man. He’d been in the army and he seems to really like being told what to do and, fortunately, she’s always been bossy. I thought it odd at first, yet it seems to work for them.’

‘That’s it exactly.’ Sadie opened a drawer and took out a novel. She laid it on the table in front of him. ‘I’d like to give you this.’

He picked it up. ‘What’s this?
Discipline
by Rosalind Quirt. Great cover – that woman could be you.’ He held it up for her to see.

‘Wash your mouth out, she’s got a much bigger behind than me.’ She closed the drawer. ‘You should enjoy it and, you never know, it might give you some insight. And, incidentally, I happen to know that you’ve met Rosalind . . .’

Dan frowned. ‘I can’t think of anyone with that name.’

‘It’s a nom de plume – a quirt is a type of whip. But I promise you have met her.’

‘It’s not you is it? Or Madame Cyn?’

‘I’m not telling. You’ll have to work it out for yourself.’

Eight

Jo parked her car beside Sam’s at the rear of the showroom. She’d come to discuss her costume for the Torture Garden Summer Ball. It was one of the biggest fetish events of the year and Jo always liked to wear something spectacular.

She got her things together and went in through the back door. Sam was in her office, bent over the drawing board. She looked up and smiled.

‘Hello, darling. Is it that time already? I’m working on the new collection, I must have got carried away.’

‘I’m late actually. It’s nearly lunchtime so I bought us cakes from the Hampstead Tea Rooms.’

‘Great. I’ll put some fresh coffee on.’ She got up. ‘Why don’t you pop along to the shop for a minute? There’s a friend of yours there.’

‘Who?’

‘Go and find out . . .’ Sam left the room.

Jo went out into the corridor, walked towards the front of the building and let herself into the shop. She could see Victor standing by the window with two customers.

‘Hi, Victor. Sam says there’s someone I know in here.’

Before Victor had a chance to respond, the female customer turned to face her.

‘Do you think she means us, Jo?’

‘Jade. Sorry, I didn’t recognise you. And Peter . . . hi. How are you both?’

‘We’re fine thanks.’ Peter was wearing a pair of leather trousers and a tight T-shirt with a series of parallel slashes across the chest. On his feet were heavy thick-soled knee-high boots which buckled up the side. His black hair reached to his waist. Jo glanced over at Jade. She was dressed identically except that she was wearing a skirt. Both of them wore heavy black eyeliner.

Jade picked up a purple rubber miniskirt. ‘Isn’t that just divine? We’ve come to choose some new outfits. We’ve brought Dan Elliot along.’ Jade pointed at the changing room. ‘He’s making a film about our group.’

‘Ahh . . . that must be who Sam was talking about. I’ll go and say hi. Excuse me.’ Jo walked over to the curtained-off changing room. She hesitated. She peeked over the top of the cubicle and saw Dan trying to pull up the top of a clinging rubber all-in-one outfit. The legs finished at mid-thigh level, like cycling shorts, and the top was scooped low in the front, scarcely covering his nipples. The sleeves went all the way down to his wrists and Dan was struggling to get the arms pulled up and over his shoulders.

‘Do you need a hand?’

Dan turned, startled. ‘Oh, it’s you. What on earth are you doing here?’

‘Sam Baillie is my best friend. Didn’t you know?’

‘I didn’t realise.’ He looked down at his outfit. ‘I’m supposed to be finding something to wear to the Torture Garden. For my film.’

‘I see.’ Jo kept her face deliberately neutral.

Dan pulled at his outfit. ‘This is like trying to struggle into a giant condom.’

‘Let me help.’ She pulled aside the curtain and stepped into the cubicle, closing it behind her. ‘It’s not that difficult really, but sometimes it’s useful to have a third hand. It helps if you put talcum powder on first, so there’s less friction.’ She used both hands to pull up the sleeves.

‘But you’d get powder all over the outfit, surely?’ Dan stood still and allowed himself to be dressed.

‘Yes. You have to polish it afterwards. They sell special spray. It’s called Pervoshine – and I promise you I’m not making that up. There. You’re finished. It looks . . .’ She began to laugh.

‘It’s not me, is it?’ He looked at his reflection in the mirror.

‘Not really. I think it’s because you’re so tall and slender. It makes you look a bit like a dildo. And that’s not a good look.’

He sighed in disappointment. ‘I’m overheated and exhausted. I’ve been squeezing myself into these ridiculous outfits for hours.’ He began to peel down the rubber.

‘You need the help of an expert.’

‘That’s why I came here with Jade and Peter.’ He lowered his voice. ‘The trouble is that the two of them look good in anything. When I first met them they were naked except for matching corsets and they both looked fantastic. But they seem to have no idea what will suit me.’ Dan had managed to extricate his arms from the costume and began pushing it down over his torso.

‘I was talking about Victor – he’s Sam’s assistant and a really good designer in his own right. He’ll sort you out. You finish taking that off and I’ll go and get him.’

‘Thanks.’ He frowned. ‘You seem to know an awful lot about this fetish stuff. I’m beginning to wonder if you might be kinky.’

‘Are you? That’s interesting. Let me get Victor.’ She pulled back the curtain a slit and carefully let herself out of the cubicle.

Jade and Peter were looking at a rack of uniforms with Victor.

‘When you’ve got a minute, Victor, could you give Dan a hand? I think he needs a bit of guidance.’

‘Sure. These two can take care of themselves.’ He turned to Jade and Peter. ‘Excuse me, but I’m needed elsewhere.’ He walked across the shop. He gripped the edge of the curtain. ‘Are you decent? Because I’m coming in, ready or not.’ He ripped the curtain aside.

Dan was sitting on the bench beside his discarded street clothes. At first Jo thought he was naked but she realised he was wearing a tiny thong. He noticed that she was looking at him and he shrugged.

‘When in Rome . . .’ He turned to Victor. ‘I’m putting myself totally in your hands.’

‘And it’s not even my birthday.’ He looked Dan up and down. ‘The first thing we need to do is measure you. We need to find you something that makes an asset of your figure. Off you go, Jo. I can handle this.’

‘Thanks. Sam’s probably waiting for me anyway.’

Victor swished the curtain closed.

‘I’ll come back and see you later Dan,’ she called.

After lunch Sam showed Jo the sketches she’d made for her costume. There were half a dozen designs, all broadly following a forties theme, as Jo had requested. They were all fantastic but she’d managed to narrow it down to two.

The first was a rubber version of a military uniform with epaulettes and flapped pockets and a belted jacket. Sam had given the figure in the drawing a swept-up forties hairdo.

The second echoed the New Look; the post-war reaction to the austerity of the war years. Sam had designed a long skirt supported by dozens of petticoats and a fitted jacket with shoulder pads. Underneath there was a waist-nipping corset to give the right silhouette and there was a small hat to finish off the outfit. It was designed to be made out of supple calf leather and the overall effect combined retro elegance with extreme fetish.

‘They’re both gorgeous. I can’t make up my mind. What do you think?’ Jo pored over the drawings.

‘Well, I think you’d look gorgeous in either but, if I were choosing, I’d opt for the more practical option. The uniform’s rubber and you’ll get pretty sweaty and uncomfortable in that after a couple of hours in a hot nightclub. The other one’s leather and you can wear something cotton under the jacket. It’ll be cooler and more comfortable and you’ll still look absolutely fantastic.’

‘Yes, you’re right. OK then. I’ll go for the New Look outfit. Now all we have to decide is the colour. Black’s always good.’

‘True, but I was thinking of something more eye-catching. Half the people there will be in black. How about –’ Sam got up and rummaged through a pile of fabric samples before handing Jo a swatch of bright-red leather ‘– this.’

‘It’s wonderful. So soft and fluid. And the colour . . . I think I have a lipstick in exactly this shade.’ She handled the square of leather.

‘And it will really suit your pale colouring. We should be ready for a first fitting in a month or so.’

‘Thanks, Sam. I’m really looking forward to it. You spoil me.’

Sam waved the compliment away with the back of her hand. ‘You’re welcome, but I’m going to have to chuck you out I’m afraid. I’ve got a buyer coming in half an hour and I need to prepare.’

‘No problem. I’ve got to get going anyway but I promised to go back and see how Dan’s getting on first.’

Sam raised an eyebrow. ‘You seem very interested in Dan . . .’

‘Do I? Well, he’s an interesting man.’

‘So it appears. Are you going to do his film?’

‘I haven’t decided but I’m definitely coming round to the idea.’

Back in the shop Jade and Peter were strutting around in front of the mirrors, modelling matching rubber nun’s habits. Dan was standing beside the counter with Victor looking down at something spread out on the surface.

‘Hi. Did you sort something out?’ She walked over to the counter.