Accidental Slave (27 page)

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Authors: Claire Thompson

Tags: #m/f bdsm

BOOK: Accidental Slave
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I still don’t really get that.”

“Pain is a subjective thing, really. I prefer to think of it as heightened sensation. Pleasure and pain aren’t really at opposite ends of some kind of linear spectrum. I think of them more as a circle—sensations that fuse and blend when you’re in the right headspace. That heightened sensation has powerful effects on the mind. It focuses attention here and now. You forget about being a home-owner, a decision-maker, a high-powered business executive. During a whipping, for example, you become just a body. You lose all the ego and get a unique chance to redefine yourself as you work through it.

“What could be more liberating than that? You’re literally freed from your own identity. I think the exhilaration you experience is produced partly by this removal of who you are. All your normal roles, ways of acting, your ideas of who you are, the games you normally play with people—all these abruptly stop. All you are is your body.”

Elizabeth shook her head with admiration. “You should write a paper or something on the subject. I’m curious, though. You seem to get it, to be so in tune with the mindset of a sub. How can you have such an intuitive understanding when you’re the one doing it, rather than being done to?”

“I listen. I pay attention. And as I’ve mentioned, I’m the other side of the coin. My mindset is different, but the experience is no less intense for me. Where you crave liberation, I get my thrill from the control—the power you give to me over your body and your reactions. When you react to something I do to you, it’s like we’re connected. I feel your excitement, your pleasure, your letting go. It’s like you’re a kite caught in a strong wind and I’m the one holding the strings, keeping you in check, controlling your flight, keeping you tethered to me. It’s a powerful experience. You throw sex in there and it can just about blow your mind. You add love,” his voice dipped and he reached for her hand, “and it’s like nothing on this earth.”

Elizabeth’s heart surged, though those three simple words still didn’t manage to slip past her lips. Cole only smiled. “Enough time on the soapbox.” He laughed. “Time for your next lesson.”

Chapter Nineteen

Elizabeth dipped her toe into the hot, frothing water, wondering what sort of lesson could take place in a hot tub. She settled herself in the steamy water, Cole beside her. She leaned back with a sigh of pleasure as the water jets sprayed hard against her shoulders and lower back.

Cole put his arm loosely around her shoulders. “Ready for your next lesson?”

“In here?”

“Yep. Another lesson in self-control. Ever made yourself come with a stream of water?”

“Oh…”

“Answer the question.”

“Yes.” This man had a knack for asking her the most embarrassing things.

“When? When did you first do it, and how? Were you alone?”

“Yeah. I was thirteen. I’d only recently discovered masturbation. I was adding more hot water to a long soak and for some reason I scooted up and let the water fall between my legs. It felt good, so I stayed in position. It was just a kind of bubbly tickle at first, but after a while my body started trembling and then all at once it welled up into an orgasm.”

“I bet you were really clean that year.” Cole laughed.

“Yeah. I was constantly in the bathtub.” Elizabeth grinned. Then she realized what the lesson was going to be. “You don’t want…I mean, not in front of you…”

“But of course. My body, remember? Lift your ass so the water stream is on your cunt. Go on. Don’t make me ask twice.”

Elizabeth didn’t dare disobey. At least the pink in her cheeks could be attributed to the steamy water. She lifted her body until the hot, steady spray was concentrated at her sex. She couldn’t deny it—it felt good. Very good.

She closed her eyes and wriggled her hips a little to get a better angle. She was aware of Cole watching her. At least the roiling water obscured exactly what was going on beneath it. She let her eyes close as the jet pummeled her sex, the stimulation almost too direct to be pleasurable.

She shifted again to ease the pressure and let out a long breath as the water hit her just the right way.

“That’s it,” Cole urged. “Let go. Feel it.” She let her head fall forward and concentrated on the sensations. The water force was so powerful it not only stimulated her clit, but forced its way inside her as well, a liquid dildo.

“Oh,” she moaned, as her climax began to mount with inexorable relentlessness beneath the steady pulse of water. Remembering in time, she managed, “Please, Sir. May I come?”

“No.”

What the fuck
? She sat down abruptly, her pussy still tingling from the frenzied water.

Maybe she’d misheard him over the tumult of the spray. “What?”

“I said no. Not yet. You obviously heard me because you sat down. Are you questioning me again?” His dark eyes held hers. Slowly she shook her head, feeling at once submissive and defiant, not sure how to reconcile the conflicting feelings.

“Good.” He climbed out of the tub and began to dry himself. “Next lesson will be about service. Part of your duties as my submissive is to make sure my needs are met at all times, sexually speaking. If I wake you up at three a.m. and tell you to suck my cock, you do it. Right now my cock could use some attention and you could use some practice in pleasing me the way I like it.”

He set the towel aside and pointed imperiously to the ground. “On your knees. Hands behind your back, mouth open.” Elizabeth stepped out of the tub, reaching for a large towel from the rack. “I didn’t say to dry yourself. It’s plenty warm in here. Kneel down just as you are, wet and dripping at my feet.”

Elizabeth knelt, water from the tips of her hair dripping in rivulets down her wet body. Her pussy was on fire and she ached for his cock. She admired his thick, erect member, bobbing so close the crown brushed her parted lips. Putting her hands behind her back, she grabbed one wrist with the other and leaned forward to receive him.

Cole reached for the back of her head, grabbing a thick handful of hair and pulling it into a bunch in his strong hand. He jerked her back by the hair, forcing her to look up at him. “Who do you belong to?”

Without thinking, she answered, “You, Sir.”

He nodded, his eyes blazing beneath hooded lids. He let go his tight grip on her hair, though his fingers remained entwined in it. Moving his hips forward, he guided himself into her mouth.

She licked around the head and shaft as best she could, sucking along the length, her hands itching to help out. He let her service him for a few minutes, murmuring his appreciation of her skills. When he pulled back, instinctively she moved forward, wanting to keep his hard, silky shaft under her control.

“Stay still,” he ordered. “Keep your mouth open and don’t move. I’m going to come down your throat. Make sure you swallow it all.”

Elizabeth tensed, anxious she might choke if she wasn’t allowed to move.
Trust him.
The words slipped into her mind and she slowly relaxed. Yes. This was Cole. Cole, who loved her, who wanted to help her reach that place inside where she could finally and truly let go of her chokehold on life.

“That’s it. Take it. Good.” He slid deeper until his cock was lodged at the back of her throat.

She hadn't gagged and now couldn’t even if she’d wanted to. She couldn’t breathe and began to pull back. His hand on the back of her head held her firmly in place. “You’re fine,” he told her.

“Stay still. Trust me.”

Yes. She would trust him. She did trust him. The seconds passed. Pressure was building up in her head and knew if he didn’t release her soon, she’d be forced to struggle away to get her breath. But she didn’t want to. She wanted to obey him, to prove she could do this, to prove she trusted him, even with her very life’s breath.

A curious peace began to descend over her and all thoughts ebbed from her mind. She was on her knees, just where she should be, serving the man she loved. She would tell him. Yes, as soon as she could speak, she would tell him….

Elizabeth blinked, trying to focus. “What happened?”

“You started to pass out. I’m sorry. I held you in position too long. It won’t happen again.”

Elizabeth was lying on the bathroom floor, her head resting on a towel in Cole’s lap. “You surprised but pleased me, Elizabeth. You didn’t struggle at all. I wasn’t expecting that. I was expecting more of a cue from you, since you’re still untrained in the art of breath control. I’m impressed and touched by the level of trust you exhibited by staying still like that.”

A happy warmth suffused her. She was delighted to have pleased him. She smiled broadly.

“I’m glad I pleased you, Sir.” The sir just came out—not planned or rehearsed.

He nodded. “You did. I think you need a little rest. Why don’t you take a nap? I’ve got some work I have to attend to. It’ll only take an hour or two at the most.” He shifted, helping her to a sitting position. Tenderly he wrapped a towel around her and took her hand, leading her out of the bathroom.

He helped her up onto the big bed as if she were made of china. “Hey, I’m okay,” she asserted. “Really, I’m fine.” He pressed her gently back against a mound of pillows and drew the soft sheets up around her. All at once she was assailed with a sense of nearly overwhelming fatigue. Maybe a little nap would be a good thing….

Cole kissed her lips. “I’ll see you later, sweetest girl. Sleep well.”

Elizabeth awoke slowly, luxuriating in the comfortable, huge bed. Before she even remembered where she was, she became aware of a delicious smell permeating the air.

Something with tomato sauce and melted cheese and plenty of garlic. Her stomach rumbled and she sat up, shaking back her tousled hair.

The room was nearly dark—how long had she slept? She climbed out of the bed and moved toward a window. The sun was setting, the sky a rich, pale purple, the skyscrapers tinged with luminous gold. She went into the bathroom, used the toilet, washed her face and looked at herself in the mirror.

The woman who smiled back at her looked—happy. She grinned, pleased with herself, eager to find Cole, ready for more training. She returned to the bedroom and found the sundress he’d permitted her to wear at the last meal, and left the room, following her nose.

~*~

Cole looked up as Elizabeth entered the kitchen. “Hey there. I was wondering when you’d return to the land of the living. You went out like a light. I checked in on you about an hour ago and you hadn't moved.”

Elizabeth stretched like a cat, her voluptuous breasts rising and falling beneath the skimpy dress as she moved. “I feel great,” she announced, her smile tugging directly at his heart.

“Hungry? My housekeeper makes great lasagna. She freezes it for me. It’s just about ready.

I made garlic bread too and I have a nice Australian Shiraz that should go well. Would you like a glass while you wait? I’ll get it for you.”

“Sure. Sounds great. I’m starving. I can’t remember being this hungry in ages.” Elizabeth moved toward the table to sit, as he had expected she would.

“Uh unh,” Cole stepped between her and the table. “Tonight you won’t be using the furniture. I put a cushion on the floor, there by my seat. That’s for you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ll be sitting on the floor at my feet during dinner. Do you have a problem with that, sub girl?”

He watched her, almost hearing the internal argument as she talked herself into obeying. It wasn’t yet natural for her, but that would come in time, if she gave it the chance he hoped she would.

“No, Sir,” she whispered, sinking gracefully onto the cushion. He retrieved the wine bottle from the counter and poured her a glass. She took it and sipped. He scrutinized her until she looked up at him.

“What have you done wrong?”

“Me?” She looked flustered. “Um, nothing, I don’t think…”

He could see she didn’t know. “Lift your dress. Ass directly on the cushion, same as in a chair.

“Oh.” She blushed becomingly while she shifted and pulled at her dress.

Cole turned away to hide his grin. He’d already set the table—one plate and set of silverware. He took the lasagna and garlic bread from the oven and put them on the waiting trivets. He brought his own glass and the bottle of wine to the table. Lastly he retrieved a set of metal handcuffs from a drawer.

“Drink up and give me your glass,” he instructed her. Elizabeth drained the remainder of her wine and held out the empty glass, her eyes trained on the cuffs. “Kneel up and put your hands behind your back. I’m going to cuff you. This is just to help you remember not to use your hands. I don’t like to use metal cuffs during a session but they’re good as a reminder.”

He waited while she knelt into position. He’d considered making her remove the sundress but decided, since she’d opted to put it on, he’d let her keep it a while longer. As he cuffed her, he felt the slight tremble in her arms.

He kissed her head and stroked her cheek. “Relax. Close your eyes and calm yourself. Use your breathing. Nothing’s going to happen to you. I’m just going to feed you some dinner and then maybe we’ll snuggle up and watch a movie. You’ve done great so far for your first day. I’m incredibly proud of you.”

Elizabeth smiled, her shoulders easing. “That’s better.” Cole smiled back. He helped himself to a large serving of the lasagna. He cut a small piece, blew on it and held it close to Elizabeth’s mouth. Flushing, she accepted the offered bite.

“That’s delicious.”

“Martha’s a good cook,” Cole agreed, cutting and eating the second bite himself. He tore off some of the hot, buttery bread and offered it to her. She accepted it as eagerly as a baby bird.

He fed her slowly, his cock hardening each time she accepted the food from his fork—his perfect slave girl, kneeling and docile, her nipples jutting provocatively beneath her dress, her hands secured behind her back. In between bites, he held the wine glass to her lips, letting her drink.

Elizabeth turned her face away. “I’m stuffed.” Cole wiped a bit of garlic butter from her cheek with his napkin.

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