Divertissement (3 page)

It was
really quite simple—a stool with a wide, padded seat. But most people’s kitchen
stools didn’t have dangling leather straps with clips and buckles.

“Ready, my dear?”
John asked, turning to face her as he lifted a cane off the
table. A slender, very flexible cane, as he demonstrated with a couple of
swishes in the air.

At the
sound, goose bumps skittered up and down her spine and her pussy clenched. “You
can safe word out, you know.” he said. “What is your safe word?”

“Ellen Forsythe.”

“Want to
use it? You may by all means. Safe word out and we’ll go to bed and cuddle.”

They
wouldn’t just cuddle. But somehow vanilla sex didn’t appeal right now. “I don’t
want to use it.”

“Brilliant!”
He beckoned her. “Come here and put yourself over the stool.”

It was
three steps away and at every one her stomach clenched. He added to the effect
by holding the cane at both ends and bending it as he watched her.

She
dropped her eyes and fixed her attention on the purple leather seat. It was
bigger than most seats, to support her body no doubt. She stepped closer. The
leather brushed her belly as she leaned over and settled herself across a very
well-padded seat.

“Comfy?”
John asked, coming closer so the fabric of his trousers brushed her face. She
nodded. “Better get you fixed then.” He reached over for one of the leather
straps and in a matter of seconds had both clipped onto her belt. After a few
adjustments, she was held firmly in place, her belly comfortably against the
padded leather.

“Hold on a
minute,” he said, stroking her rump with his hand. “Quite lovely, but I do
think you’ll need a little more restraint to keep you still.” As he spoke, he
leaned over and, in one deft movement, fastened her right arm to the leg of the
stool. Velcro was such a handy thing. Seconds later, both arms were secure and
he stood back, as if to admire the prospect.

“I think,”
he said, “I’d better see to your legs too. It’s quite hard to keep completely
still during a caning.”

She
already knew that! And why in the name of creation had she agreed? Hell, it was
bound to hurt, but how much?
Worse than his belt?
That
all depended on how hard he swung it. Her cunt was running. Why, oh why did
this arouse her so? “Tie them down,” she said. “Please.”

“You
really want that?”

“Yes.”
Just the thought of total immobility sent a wild thrill right to her clit. She
didn’t care how much it hurt, just wanted to be his utterly, to submit and to
please him.

“
Okey-dokey
.”

She almost
laughed at his totally atypical reply, but the touch of padded leather straps
around her thighs and ankles brought her right back to the here and now.

This was
no laughing matter.

His hand
was back on her
arse
, but this time gently patting
her, warming her up before he started in with the cane. She relaxed against the
leather, let her limbs go loose and shut her eyes as her mind and body absorbed
the slowly growing warmth in her skin.

She let
out several slow breaths as the tempo increased and the sensation built. She
wasn’t hurting but was very much aware of a growing throb all over her rear.

John
stopped.

She gasped
at the sudden change and awareness of how much her
arse
now hurt.

“How’s it
feel?” he asked.

“Not too
bad.”

“I’ll soon
take care of that.” He moved, to pick up the cane she realized as he swished it
through the air a couple of times. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Sure you
don’t want to safe word out?” The flat of his hand pressed into the small of
her back as if to hold her still.
Utterly unnecessary.
Fingers and toes were about all she could move.

“No, I
don’t,” For a moment of perfect peace, she understood completely. She was here
for him, and he was here to give her…

The swish
cut into her thoughts a second or so before the thin cane struck her flesh. It
hurt, yes, but nowhere near as much as she expected. Neither did the next two.

He was
going gently, taking his time and pausing between strokes to let the sensation
build. It wasn’t pain yet. Not really. But was heading that way, and she’d had
how many?
Three?
“Are you really giving me nine?”

 
“Yes,” he replied, and brought it down again.
That one stung. So did the next three or four. She wasn’t counting.
Didn’t want to.
Just relaxed—as best she
could anyway—as her body jerked against the restraints.
Still, it wasn’t
as bad as she’d feared. Of course it wasn’t half over yet, or was it?

He’d
paused. Probably to make her aware of how much she hurt.
Especially
when he ran his hand over her
arse
.
“You mark
up nicely, Ellen, my love. We must do this more often.”

She let
that go. No point in saying “never” or she’d “had enough” when he had her
helpless and vulnerable.
“Three more, my dear.
Let’s
make them count.”

The cane
swished down and cut into her so hard she cried out. The other two followed
fast and had her screaming. It was over. He flung the cane across the room and
was kissing her down the curve of her spine. “Incredible, beautiful,
wonderful,” he muttered against her skin as he reached over and released her
arms, legs and finally her waist and helped her stand.

She needed
the help. She was shaking and tears ran down her cheeks, He kissed them away.
“All over now
except
the fucking.”

“I’m not
sure I can.”

“I am.”
His hand came between her legs and came away wet. “Don’t tell me you don’t want
my cock up your cunt.”

She leaned
into him. “I’m not saying I don’t want to, I’m saying I don’t think I can.”

He laughed
and swept her up in his arms and carried her through the doorway into his
bedroom. The sheets were already pulled back and he very gently put her down,
rolling her onto her front. “We’ll do it doggy style. Don’t think the
missionary position is for you tonight.”

Had they ever actually done it missionary style?
John was far too inventive. She
smiled and eased up on her knees and let out a sigh of need. “Fuck me, John.
Please! Fuck me hard.”

 
“With pleasure, my love.”

She looked
over her shoulder at him and saw the promise in his eyes and the sexy smile
that was halfway to a grin as he unbuckled his belt and stepped out of his
trousers, kicking off his shoes on the way and tossing aside socks. Seconds
later, his shirt and underwear were on the floor and he was on the bed behind
her, his hands on her waist, his thighs brushing hers.

“Sure
you’re not too tender here?” he asked. “You’ve got marks.”

That
wasn’t hard to believe. It was also irrelevant. “
John,
now is not a good time to make me wait. I’m in need!”

“Yes,” he
said,
a trace of a chuckle in his voice, “I can see that.
You certainly responded beautifully to the cane. I must remember that.”

Ellen was
on the verge of saying something about that, but with a shift of his hips, he
was inside her and all conversation became utterly irrelevant. She threw back
her head and let out a great cry, leaning back against him to bring his cock
even deeper. Was it her imagination or was he even harder than usual? Why not?
She had never been this ready.

“I can’t
hold it back!” she almost shouted as he began to stroke in and out with steady
rhythm, coming in deep and hard, almost withdrawing before plunging back. He
moved slowly, stroking every nerve ending and stimulating her clit. Her arousal
built and peaked.
Driven fast and strong by his cock, his
presence and the roaring arousal from the caning.

“John!”
she shouted, “I’m so, so close…”

“Then
come, Ellen, come for me.”

She didn’t
need a second bidding. Her climax burst in a wild roar of pleasure, sending
waves of satisfaction to every cell in her body.

Lost in a
great fog of satiation, she was only half aware she was screaming, shouting his
name, yelling she loved him and he was the best fuck in the world. Her legs,
breath and mind gave out and she sagged against him as he wrapped his arms
around her and held her close.

She cried
out as he slipped from her. Missing his cock and his strength and force but too
spent to do more than moan as he laid her down and slipped a pillow under her
head.

“You’re
staying here tonight,” he said as he slipped in beside her and pulled the
bedclothes over them.

She was in
no mental condition to argue.
Even if she’d wanted to.

John
listened to her breathing as she lay in his arms. Had her profession of love
been the wild enthusiasm of her climax? Or had it come from her heart? One more
thing to worry about!
But what the hell?
He loved her.
That was enough for now. He was too far-gone himself to lie awake and wonder if
she loved him back.

* * * * *

Ellen woke
first and leaned up on her elbow, watching John sleep. Sometimes this all
seemed too good to be true and certainly too marvelous to last. But hell, it
was gorgeous while it lasted and so was John. Trouble was
,
she wasn’t that comfortable enough with him to ask where they were going. If
all he had in mind was a fling, she didn’t want to know right now. Not while
she was totally poleaxed by his presence, his personality, his incredible body
and his dominance. Best wait until she cooled off a bit. Maybe ending it then
wouldn’t be so bad. Hell, perhaps they could stay play partners. Or was that
what they were right now?

Damn and
double damn. She’d always been far better at the wild sex when one’s married
sort than the “have fun with a Mr. Right Now” variety.

She was
analyzing far too much. Her body still thrummed from the sex, her
arse
still tingled from the cane and she could still feel,
deep inside, where his cock had pounded her to climax. Best enjoy what she had.

And right
now, what she had was an urgent need to pee.

She took
care of that, paused to wash her face and studied herself in the metal-framed
mirror. Not too bad-looking for her age.

“What I
see there is a contented and well-fucked woman.”

She jumped
at his voice but smiled back at him. “You look pretty satisfied yourself.”

“I am
indeed,” he replied, stepping through the doorway to wrap his arms around her
and kiss her forehead. “How are you?
Arse
not too
sore, I hope.”

“It’s
still tender but I’ll survive.”

“To take
more in the future, I hope. Turn around, let me have a look.” She obliged as he
gently ran his hand over her rump and thighs, his touch so light it didn’t
really hurt. “Nice,” he said, and kissed each
arse
cheek. “I like to see you marked, Ellen. Makes you look so sexy and so
delightfully submissive. Have you tried sitting down yet?”

“Only on the loo.”

“Did you
hurt?”

“Not hurt,
not really, but it is very tender.”

“I should
hope so. I wouldn’t want you to forget it too soon but I’ll give you a cushion
to sit on in the car. We’ve a long drive ahead of us.”

“Where to?”

“That’s my
surprise. You’ll like it, I promise.”

* * * * *

He
wouldn’t give the slightest hint.
Just told her to pack for
the seaside and a couple of country walks, and to go easy on the knickers as he
wanted her naked underneath and readily available.
As if that
were
news to her! “I’ll be back in two hours,” he told her
as he dropped her at her flat in Putney and wheeled her suitcase inside her
front door. “Be ready for me.”

She was.

She’d
repacked fast, tossing in a couple of swimsuits, shorts and a few tops and one
dress—in case they actually went out somewhere that required clothes. For the
drive down—wherever they were going—she put on a crinkle-cotton skirt that was
lined and full enough to hide the fact she wasn’t wearing knickers, and a loose
white peasant blouse. All very comfy and easy to slip off if the whim took him.

Toothbrush
and makeup she just pulled out of her old bag and shoved into the new one. She
probably should have unpacked and sorted out, but once ready, she sat down,
propped up her feet and closed her eyes.

Might as well relax while she had the chance.
Time spent with John tended to be
tumultuous.

And totally wonderful.

Did he see
things the same way? Hell, he had to be happy with the sex and their play
scenes.
But…