Fire After Dark (26 page)

My stomach swoops as I feel it touch my skin and the power of its symbolism hits me. This is the sign of my submission. I surrender myself when I wear it. That feeling is, to my surprise, shiveringly erotic.

Maybe this is part of my innermost self after all,
I think. I press the stud so that the collar is on. It fits me snugly, prettily, like a black lace necklace.

I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s almost seven thirty. I remember my instructions. I’m dressed as I was told, so I go to the white fur rug at the front of the bed and kneel down. I feel self-conscious at first, even though I am alone. I spend the first long minutes wrapping strands of the fur rug around my finger and freezing whenever I think I hear the slightest sound. Seven thirty comes and I wait, still and anticipating, but nothing happens.

Is he late? Has he been delayed?

I don’t know whether to get up and text him to see if he’s all right, or whether I should stay where I am.

I can hear the clock ticking slowly, and I stay kneeling. Five minutes pass, then ten, and I can’t stand it any longer. I get up and go to the hallway where I’ve left my bag so that I can check my phone for any message from Dominic. No sooner have I walked on to the cool marble floor of the hall, then I hear the turn of a key in the lock. My heart thuds and a drenching feeling of fear races over me, making the palms of my hand prickle. I turn, spring back into the bedroom and am kneeling on the floor in no more than a second. I hear the front door open, and slow footsteps advance into the hall. There are long pauses, the sound of movement and footsteps but he does not come into the bedroom immediately. I am grateful for the pause, hoping that my heart rate will drop and my breathing steady before he comes in, but I can’t seem to control it. The guilt of disobedience is still flooding me, making my fingertips tremble.

What the hell is he doing? This wait is agonising!

Then the footsteps come to the bedroom door. He is standing in the doorway but I do not look up.

‘Good evening.’ His voice is deep, low and layered with power.

‘Good evening,’ I say, raising my glance only enough to see his legs. He’s wearing jeans. There’s a long pause and then I remember. ‘
Sir
.’

He walks towards me. ‘Have you obeyed my instructions?’

I nod. ‘Yes, sir.’ I still haven’t looked up into his face. I’m nervous of this new Dominic, a Dominic I’ve agreed to obey.

‘Have you?’ His voice is even softer now, but with unmistakeable steeliness inside the mellow tones. ‘Stand up.’

I raise myself up, aware of my naked breasts pushing up wantonly from the shallow cups of the bra, and the brazen invitation of my crotchless pants. But I also know I look beautiful and from the harsh breath that Dominic draws in, I can tell that he thinks so too. I lift my eyes to his face for the first time. He is different: still sublimely handsome, but those black eyes of his are hard and his lips have a set to them that could almost be called cruel if it weren’t for the fact that there is tenderness to them too.

‘Did you obey me?’ he says.

‘Yes sir,’ I say again, but colour floods my face. I’m lying. He must know I am. My heart is racing again, my fingertips trembling and my knees feel weak.

‘You have one more chance. Did you obey me?’

I pull in a long shaky breath. ‘No, sir. I went to the hall when you were late.’

‘Oh. I see.’ His eyes flicker with pleasure and his mouth twitches. ‘Disobedience, so early. Dear me. Well, you need to learn your lesson quickly, so we can nip this insubordination in the bud. Go to the cabinet and open the right-hand door.’

Trying to calm my breathing and the fluttering nervousness in my stomach, I go over to the polished cabinet and do as instructed. There is a wide variety of strange-looking things on the shelves.

‘Take the red rope.’

There is a coil of scarlet rope on the bottom shelf. I pick it up. It’s soft and silken in my hand, not rough as I’d imagined.

‘Bring it here.’

I take it over to Dominic. He looks strong and powerful in a black T-shirt and jeans, his hair slicked back. He doesn’t smile as he takes it from me.

‘Disobedience is very naughty, Beth,’ he breaths. He holds up one end of the rope which is sealed with scarlet wax and begins to trace it down over my body, circling each nipple with it and then running it over my belly.

Excitement clenches inside me and I feel my sex awakening and dampening.
Oh God, this is hot already.

Then he turns me around. ‘Kneel by the bed post.’

I walk a few steps the bed and kneel down, wondering if he is going to hit me with the rope.

‘Put your arms around it and clasp your hands together on the other side.’

When I’ve done this, he comes forward and in moment he has bound my wrists together with a few twirls of the rope and a skilful knot. Then he runs the rest of the rope to the floor.

‘Spread your legs,’ he orders.

I do it, knowing my white cheeks are exposed, my whole bottom open to him and the pouting lips below. I know they’re already wet. I’m sure he can see the glistening traces of my arousal and that makes me even hotter and wetter. I rest my hot face on my forearm, which is tightly pressed to the bedpost, my bonds making it impossible to move.

I feel something against my sex. For a moment, I think it’s Dominic’s finger but it’s too big and thick, and it’s not hard or hot enough to be his cock. Then I realise he’s trailing the waxen end of the rope across me, letting it play in the slipperiness. The feeling is delicious.

‘Oh,’ I murmur.

‘Quiet. No noise. And no movement.’

I feel a light whip across my buttocks. It’s the silken part of the rope. It doesn’t hurt but it’s a definite expression of intent. I try to keep still.

‘Now. A little something to begin your punishment.’

He walks away from me and from the corner of my vision I see him go the cabinet. He takes something out and puts it on the bed where I can see it. It’s a large and rather beautiful glass object, smooth and slightly bent, about five inches long. When he knows that I’ve seen it, he lifts it up and comes around behind me. Suddenly, he’s kneeling close to me, I can feel the heat of his body on my back. He put his face close to my neck and runs his finger over my collar.

‘I like this,’ he whispers. ‘This is lovely. It suits you very much.’ He drops his face and kisses my neck, nipping lightly at the skin with his teeth. I want to sigh with pleasure but I remember my instructions and keep as still as I can.

Now something new is playing at my entrance, something cold and very smooth. I know it’s the glass object.

‘This is a dildo, Beth,’ he says. ‘I’m going to press it inside you. I want you to keep it there for me. Don’t let it come out.’

As he speaks, I feel the cold thing push up inside me. The sensation of being filled is delicious, the cold bringing an extra dimension to the stimulation. But it’s slippery smooth and I’m very wet. Dominic pushes it deep, holds it there and then removes his fingers and instantly I feel a drag as the dildo begins to slip back out.

‘You naughty girl,’ he scolds as he sees it begin to emerge. ‘What did I say?’

He pushes it back up again with a firm thrust that makes me want to sigh out loud again. I clench around it, tightening my pelvic muscles, willing myself to hold it.

‘Very good. You are trying hard,’ he murmurs. ‘Now. Your arse is begging me for attention.’

His palm smoothes over my bottom, caressing the smooth surface, revelling in the transition from the silken mesh of the knickers to the soft flesh. Then suddenly he smacks down on me, not hard but with a sting. I jump and the glass dildo jumps inside me, giving me a delicious sensation of inward thrusting. Dominic rubs my cheeks again, then delivers another smack that judders through me. It doesn’t hurt so much as cause an internal shudder, and again the dildo presses upwards inside me.

Oh God.

‘Your bottom is so beautiful,’ he says in an uneven voice. He smacks me again.
Oh God, I can feel it building.

I rest my face against the bedpost, my bound hands just below me. The sight of the scarlet rope around them is exciting. My breasts, eager and sensitive, press again the cold metal of the bedpost, the nipples rasping it. Below, the dildo, warm now, threatens to slide out. I pull all my muscles to stop it, and again the delicious heat throbs in my belly.

‘Oh dear, you can’t hold it for me, Beth,’ he says in a voice of playful menace. ‘I didn’t think that was so much to ask. Well, for that . . .’

He delivers three hard slaps in quick succession that send a hot glow racing from my buttocks to cover my whole body. Then he begins to run the dildo in and out of me hard. It’s a startling but delicious feeling, as I kneel before him, open, letting him fuck me with the glass toy. His other hand comes round to where my clitoris is buzzing so hard I’m wondering if I will actually come without any other stimulation, but as he begins to thrum it with his fingers, running down into my slippery depths and returning to it, hard and strong, it responds by washing strong euphoric waves of pleasure over my entire body. My legs are losing strength, I would be sliding down the post if I weren’t lashed to it, and I’m shuddering all over with the force of my building climax.

‘As you’re a beginner,’ he whispers harshly in my ear, ‘I’m going to let you come, but only if you come as hard as you can. Come on, give yourself up to me.’

It’s all I need. I cry out as the climax seizes me and releases me in a huge, rocking, all-encompassing orgasm.

‘Oh yes,’ he says. ‘That was what I wanted to see. Now. We’re not finished quite yet.’ He pulls the dildo from me. It slides out easily and he drags it up behind me, so that it runs between my cheeks. He holds the oiled tip at my other entrance, pressing it gently for a moment, and just as I am wondering if he is going to try and penetrate there, half worried and half curious, he takes it away.

A moment later he is untying my wrists, but if I think it is all over, I’m mistaken.

‘Lie on the floor,’ he orders. ‘Put your bottom high in the air, rest your head on your arms.’

I crawl onto the rug and obey, feeling utterly shameless as I thrust my bottom as high as I can, knowing what I’m displaying to him: my swollen lips, wet and glistening with the spending of my climax. I feel his fingertip trace around it, running over the hair there and smoothing over the slippery skin.

‘What a delightful sight,’ he says, his voice thick with desire. ‘And all mine.’

I hear him unbutton his trousers but he doesn’t take them off. Instead he kneels behind me, grips his hard erection and presses it to my entrance. ‘I’m going to fuck you very hard now,’ he says. ‘You may make a noise if you wish.’

I’m glad he says that because as he slams into me, he seems to penetrate my very core, and the cry is forced from me. I couldn’t keep it in if I wanted to. His cock thrusts hard, over and over, each time reaching that spot where the pleasure is teetering on the brink of pain, but I want more of the sweet agony. I want him to feel the kind of intense pleasure he’s given me, I want to offer myself up to him, every bit.

I feel the roughness of his trousers against my bottom as he presses against me, and that in itself feels hot. He holds my hip with one hand, seizes my breast with the other, squeezing and fondling the nipple, his breathing racing hard. In, and in again, and in, his shaft swelling further, filling me up, and then I feel the stiffness of his body as his climax begins boiling up before, and with a final thrust he explodes inside me.

We are both panting now as the effects of our activities begin to wear off. Slowly, he pulls out of me. He gets up and goes over to the bedside table where he gets a tissue and wipes himself. Once he is out of me, I fall down on the rug, still breathing fast, my heart rate slowing and the juices of our climaxes trickling down my thigh, warm and wet.

‘Dominic,’ I say, ‘that was amazing, really.’ I smile at him. I feel so close to him, and I yearn to hold him, inhale his beautiful scent and kiss his mouth tenderly.

He turns and gazes at me, almost impassively. Then he returns the smile and says, ‘Thank you, Beth. I enjoyed administering your first punishment. You took it bravely but it was just the beginning.’

I watch, surprised, as he walks over, buttoning up his jeans.

Is it because I’m still wearing the collar?
I wonder, and I reach up to unbutton it.

He kneels down beside me and lifts my hand to his mouth. He kisses it. ‘Thank you,’ he says again. ‘I’m anticipating our next encounter with great pleasure.’

Then he gets up and walks out, leaving me lying there on the floor, with his semen still gushing out of me, quite alone.

I lie there astonished and hurt.
Is this how it’s supposed to be
? I think, horrified. I want to hold him and be held, to kiss and be tender with him.

But I promised to obey him. This is just the first night. I have to wait and see where he plans to take me. Dominic knows what he’s doing. I have to trust him.

Friday

I wake very early in Celia’s bed. It is just after four o’clock in the morning. I don’t know why I’ve sprung awake like this, I ought to be exhausted after what happened last night. It was emotionally draining as well as physically demanding. De Havilland is asleep on the bed beside me. I don’t know if Celia permits him to sleep in the bedroom but I find his nearness a comfort. I reach out and put my fingers in that soft warm fur and after a minute, he responds, his little engine running with its rolling purr.

‘You need me, don’t you,’ I whisper to him. ‘I make you happy, don’t I, pusskins, just by stroking you.’

Why is love so complicated? Why, of all the men in the world, did I have to fall for this one, the one with the tender outside and the steely core? Because I am falling in love, I know that. Only love could make me feel this desperate and confused, full of yearning and in that sweet does-he-doesn’t-he agony. I know he desires me. I know he thinks I’m beautiful and fuckable, and that I give him pleasure – so much that he’s willing to take on another flat and furnish it just for me.