Rich Pickings (6 page)

“Morning, beautiful. I wondered where you’d got to.”

“I needed the loo. And some coffee. I was just about to go out for some milk.”

“No need. It’ll have been delivered by now. Did you check in the lobby?” He drops a kiss on the top of my head as he strolls past to grab a mug from the cupboard.

“The lobby? No. Should I?”

“Yup. I phoned ahead yesterday, asked security to leave us a few essentials. They should have been brought up overnight. The key card’s on the table by the door. Would you mind checking?”

I pad over there and open the door. Sure enough, in a neat cardboard box outside the door, are a collection of groceries, plus a copy of yesterday’s Horse Racing News. I heft the box up and bring it back inside with me. I dump it on the kitchen worktop, and pull out the newspaper.

“Yours?”

He takes it from my outstretched hand. “Yes. Thanks. I never had time to get a copy yesterday. Meant to nip out first thing, before the wedding, but I was waylaid.” He grins at me in a manner I could only describe as lecherous, and my pussy starts its habitual clenching and moistening at the mere mention of yesterday’s fun and games. Ho hum.

“Are you keen on racing then?” I’m thinking he and Freya might have a lot in common, what with her newly discovered fondness for matters of the turf. And buying racehorses.

“More of a professional interest, though I do enjoy an occasional flutter.” He puts his mug down to open the paper, spreading it out on the worktop. You already know I’m a vet, specializing in exotics and large animals. The zoo, obviously, that’s one of my jobs, and I do some work with farm animals though not a great deal. I’m also one of the course vets at Cartmel, hence…” He gestures to the racing journal.

“Oh. Right. I see. Racing and zoos? Sounds fascinating.”

“Hmm, sometimes. It has its glamorous side I suppose but I spend most of my time on a race day doing random blood tests and peering at hooves. There’s the occasional drama, but that’s not usually of a pleasant nature.”

“Oh, right. I suppose not. Do you prefer the zoo then?”

“It’s just different. Lots more variety, obviously. I get to deal with rhino diarrhea and giraffe laryngitis…”

“That’d be a tall order…”

“Ha ha. Good one. I’ll write it down. Is there any milk in that box?

I hand him the carton. “So you don’t do cats and dogs then?”

“Not as a rule. Some wildlife occasionally. Members of the public quite often bring injured hedgehogs and such things to the park. The occasional badger…” He flashes me a wry grin. “If I’m around I do some patching up before handing them on to the RSPCA.”

I regard him with renewed respect. I’d been so glad of his help the night I ran over Bryan the badger, but I didn’t appreciate that he regularly did such freebies for animals that had no one else to help them. This is a humanitarian side to Dan Riche I hadn’t really suspected. He catches my astonished expression.

“Why look so surprised. Just because I gave you a hard time doesn’t mean I’m not nice to little furry creatures. Is there anything to eat in that box?”

“Cereals. A few of those little individual packets. And some bread. We could make toast. And, you didn’t give me a hard time. Not really.”

“No? I’m slacking then. What about eggs? Bacon?”

I double check, but I’m not optimistic. “No. Nothing like that. I saw a Tesco down by the dock. I could go down there?”

“No, it’s alright. Toast will be fine. Do we have butter?”

I slap the small carton on the worktop. “Can I ask you something? Something that’s been puzzling me for a long time?” Dan’s reference to Bryan has reminded me of that day, our very first meeting.

Dan lifts one eyebrow as he pulls the lid off the plastic container. “Go ahead.”

“The day I brought the badger to the zoo, you said you wanted to spank me. Do you always say things like that to perfect strangers?”

Dan puts the butter down and fixes his undivided attention on me. “As I recall, I offered to spank you, I agree the difference is subtle, but it’s there even so.”

“Why? Why did you say that? How did you know?”

“Know what? That you were a submissive and would respond to it?”

“I suppose so. Because I wasn’t, not then. I mean, if I was, I didn’t know.”

“I knew. The clues were there. You called me sir without thinking, you kept lowering your eyes every time I looked directly at you or asked you a question. Your whole demeanor screamed submissive. It was instinctive, and so was my reaction. Your response to my offer clinched it.”

“I turned you down flat!”

“So you did. But you still let me kiss you at the gate.”

“I didn’t let you. You just—did it.”

Dan’s grin is nothing short of lecherous. “You could have stopped me. You
did
stop me—eventually.”

I nod. “Then you apologized. And you asked me to dinner.”

“And again, you turned me down flat.”

“I wish I hadn’t.”

“Oh? You weren’t entirely repulsed by my suggestions then? The spanking I mean, not dinner.”

I shake my head. “I was shocked. Stunned. As for the dinner invitation, when I thought about it afterwards, I wasn’t sure you were even serious. I mean, you could have had dinner with anyone you wanted.” I didn’t intend to tell him that, but somehow the words just slipped out. It’s true though. Over the years since I’d often wondered what might have happened if I’d been able to find the courage to accept an invitation from a handsome vet. To take a risk. I never forgot him, though, my road not taken.

“I wanted you.”

“You wanted to spank me. That terrified me back then.”

“Not now?”

“No.” I hesitate for a moment, then, “For ages after, I wished I’d gone to dinner with you.”

He smiles at me, lifts his hand to cup my cheek. “Me too. But it’s turned out okay. Dinner would have been nice, but if I had to choose, I’m even more pleased we’re having breakfast together.”

Dan winks at me. “And speaking of which, will cereals and toast suit you? Then a long soak in my brother’s bubble bath. You’ll like that. And if you’re still stiff after the Jacuzzi you get one of my patented massages. Never fails to loosen up aching submissives.”

The massage does sound rather nice. The Jacuzzi too. But how does he know I’m feeling the effects of yesterday? I thought I was hiding it quite well. I’m keen not to appear soft or feeble, though I’m not entirely sure why. I suppose because somewhere deep in my subconscious—where in my experience the most damage gets done—I have the notion that a fragile sub is not a lot of use to a tough Dom who enjoys his sport. A Dom like Daniel Riche. And I want to be of use, ergo, play down the aches and pains.

Dan’s not fooled for a moment. He finishes his coffee and sticks a couple of slices of bread in the toaster. “Cornflakes or shredded wheat? I think my dear, health conscious brother might have some muesli in here somewhere…” He produces a bag of something strongly resembling birdseed from one of the cupboards, waggles it at me. I decline politely and select the cornflakes.

A bowl of cereals each, several slices of toast and two coffee refills later Dan heads off into the bathroom to fill the tub. I help myself to his racing paper and go to sit out on the rooftop decking beyond the picture windows. It’s October, and getting chilly, but still pleasant enough to sit outside for a few minutes. I’m astonished to find two life-size models of sheep out there, grazing peacefully on Nathan Darke’s fake grass. Quirky or what?

I leaf through the paper, not really that interested in racing statistics and form if I’m honest. I’m more taken with the view of Clarence Dock and the surrounding Leeds cityscape. Miles and miles of close packed rooftops, a lot of high rise buildings poking their heads up against the skyline, some open space, and as I raise my gaze to the farther horizons I can see the misty hills in the distance. Even here, the moors are in sight. I stay there, leaning on the parapet, wishing I had some binoculars and a map to pick out landmarks. Maybe another time…

I begin to shiver in the cool autumn morning so I head back inside. Dan is just emerging from the bathroom.

“There you are. Your bath’s ready, madam.”

“Why, thank you, Sir.” I smile as I pass him, then gasp as I see the massive indoor swimming pool that passes for a bath in Nathan’s apartment. It’s made of wood, very dark wood, and looks deep enough to drown in. There are steps leading up the side. Open-mouthed, I go to peer over the rim. There’s about three feet of steaming, scented water in there, coated with an enticing froth of bubbles. Seating is built in to the structure at various heights. It’s quite wonderful. I turn to Dan, who is leaning in the doorway watching me explore. He’s clearly amused.

“Anyone would think you’d never seen a bath before.”

“I’ve never seen one like that. What’s it made of?”

“I think Nathan said it was teak. Very warm. Drop the robe, Summer. Time to get in.”

“Are you joining me?”

“Of course.” He drops his sweatpants and, totally naked, strolls nonchalantly past me to bop up the steps and into the tub. He sinks into it, and lifts a hand to beckon me to join him.

It’s just a gesture, not threatening exactly, but I feel a definite compulsion to obey and to do it fast. Not that I’m in the least reluctant—that water looks heavenly.

Moments later my robe is on the shiny black tiled floor along with Dan’s pants, and I’m lowering myself into the bubbles. Dan stretches out an arm to help me negotiate the steps, then reaches out to flick the switch which activates the Jacuzzi jets. I lie back, my shoulders against Dan’s chest and allow my feet to drift to the surface.

“This is lovely. Even better than at the club.” I turn my head to smile up at him.

“Mmm, maybe you’re just less tense. Less scared now?”

“Yes. I suppose.” I think back to that night, my initiation into the world of kink. I
was
scared. I didn’t trust Dan, or myself. I recognize now that I was looking for something different, some new way of being that was comfortable and safe and normal. At the same time I was terrified of change. I could feel the sands shifting under me that night, all my pre-conceived certainties wobbling perilously. I may have felt that my life was utter shite a lot of the time, but there’s a lot to be said for the devil you know. The Summer Jones who ran scared from the Collared and Tied club and fled to Bristol would never have left a used condom on the bedroom floor all night.

I like today’s Summer more, or I could get to like her. And I have Dan to thank for releasing her from wherever she was hiding. Was that all it took to beat the compulsions out of me? Six strokes with a belt and a butt plug up my arse?

Not quite that simple, I do realize. But I’m more relaxed, more confident in this moment than I remember feeling for a long, long time. Maybe forever.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Dan’s voice is quiet, little more than a soft murmur. He runs his hands up and down my arms, holding me safely so I have no need to worry about sinking. I trust him absolutely. But that doesn’t mean I have ready answers for him. I don’t fully understand myself so I can’t explain to him what’s different. Especially as he never really knew me before.

“No burning urge to fold up the towels or arrange the soap in color order.”

Or didn’t he?

“What do you mean?” I stiffen in his arms.

He hauls me back against his chest and this time lays his hands over my breasts, massaging the small mounds slowly. It’s sensual, but oddly, not overtly sexual. More a caring, soothing gesture than one intended to arouse. Nevertheless, my pussy clenches. Dan’s gentle, undemanding caress has the desired effect, though, and I’m soon drifting lazily, my body and mind now floating on the scented, swirling water.

“I noticed you lining up the coasters, that first night, in the bar. You were so uptight, like a spring about to snap. I think a spanking was just what you needed. You responded well to it.”

“Yes.” He’s right. No point denying it. Or overanalyzing.

“And again yesterday. You tidied my bathroom cabinet. And that bag of yours—talk about military precision.”

Ah, he did notice the bathroom then.

“If you hadn’t been so obliging and earned those six strokes with my belt, I’d have had to spank you again any way. To loosen you up. So, was that good?”

I consider for a moment, then, “It was, Sir. Very good. I’d never imagined…” My voice trails away. I’m not sure what I’m trying to say. For once, Dan doesn’t prompt me. He waits, patient. At last I find the words.

“I’d never imagined that hurting could feel good. Especially afterwards, but not just then. The pain was sort of, sort of cleansing, driving the shame away and making me into a clean sheet. And the things you said later, about moving on. I could. I really could. I did.”

“I’m pleased. And can I say, sweet Summer Jones, while we’re being so honest with each other that your submission last night totally blew me away. You were superb, a natural. My cock’s twitching now just thinking about your gorgeous wet pussy after you’d accepted my belt, and you were even more wet and hot when the plug went in. I know you hated that, well at first you did anyway, maybe not so much by the time we’d finished. But you let me do it, my fingers first, then the plug. You just totally surrendered and let me do anything I wanted to you.” He pauses, then, “Will you let me fuck your arse, Summer?”

No hesitation this time, my answer is instant, “Yes, Sir. Of course. I’d like that.”

“Okay. So, we need to be back at Black Combe tomorrow, by one o’clock for the board meeting. Or I do. I assume you’re not going back to Cumbria just yet?” He pauses.

I shake my head.

“Good. No other pressing engagements?”

Again I shake my head.

“No, Sir. None.”

“That gives us the next twenty-four hours to enjoy each other, to explore your limits a bit more, maybe push them back further? Would you like that do you think? Would you stay here with me for the next twenty-four hours and turn your body over to me?”

“Will it hurt?”
Silly question.

He chuckles. He obviously thinks it’s a silly question too, but he answers anyway, “Oh yes. Some of the time. A lot of the time. But in a good way, like before. I intend to make you squeal. Will you squeal for me, little Summer of the three swallows?”