Trust Me to Know You (20 page)

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Authors: Jaye Peaches

BOOK: Trust Me to Know You
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He grabbed my arm and pulled me up. “Go stand in the corner away from me.”

I staggered over to the corner of the room and stay there facing the wall. The pain throbbed on and I leant on the cool wall for a while. I kept my head down as silent tears continued to drip down my face. Many minutes went by and I could hear him typing on his keyboard. He was back to work while I stewed in my self-pity: neglected and overlooked. To be ignored hurt as much as the spanking.

Footsteps approached and he quickly undid the tie around my wrists. His face was next to the back of my head.

“What is the purpose of punishing you, Gemma?”

“To make me atone for my wrong doings, sir.” I could help the sniffles as I tried not let my snot run out of my nose. He gave me his handkerchief. “Thank you, sir.” I clutched it in my hands.

“You will think twice now about engaging in gossip won’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What else,
Gemma? What
did this punishment do to you?” his voice remained strangely soft yet full of those dominant characteristics.

My internal erotic pulse could not help ticking over. I was not sure what he meant. “I don’t understand the question, sir.”

“Are you angry with me for carrying it out?”

“Oh no, sir.”

“You didn’t subspace why? You can subspace?”

I had not fully drifted off with him so far and he was evidently aware of it from observing me. “I have in the past, sir. During sensual spankings or floggings. Never for punishments. Did you want me too?”

“No. You must not subspace during punishments. You should feel the pain, not run from it. So what kept you from subspacing?”

“I was unhappy that you were disappointed in me. I shared that disappointment with you, sir. Negative feelings,” I confessed.

He had not touch me at all, just stood there, my back to him and his voice by my ear. “Let the punishment work those feelings out of you. Release them. Then we will both be able to move on. I am satisfied. You have been contrite, understood what you did wrong and took your punishment with courage. What do you want now?” he lured me with his seductive voice.

“You inside me.” I shut my eyes, trembling at his close proximity and the temerity of my statement.

“Hungry for me are you?” he asked quietly.

“Very, sir. Hungry to make you happy.”

Oh to be fucked now, would be such a delight. Please,
please
, my insides begged for relief.

“Do you know why you were aroused, so wet?”

I was about to say to please him, but he had not
asked me to become aroused. It was a punishment spanking
and not an erotic experience like the first spanking he gave me in the lair. The realisation of my response to his painful spanking hit me hard.

“Pain. That isn’t right.... I’ve never....” I floundered for words. I
could not face the idea that I liked pain to the point of launching an orgasm. That I was a masochist, not after what
he
did to me in his garage.

“Sssh,” said Jason reaching out with his arms, he wrapped his hands around me. “Don’t be afraid of pain. We’ll deal with the issue another day.”

My anxiety must have leaked out of me, showed itself, even though he could not see my face. Leading me back to his desk, he threw his shirt tie toward his desk chair. He pushed me over to the meeting table.

“Bend over, hungry one, flat to the table. Hands grip the edge. You don’t move. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Cautiously I bent over on to the table. My blouse was still on and he pulled it up away from my red bottom cheeks. My hands clasped the table edge, I could just reach if I stretched myself wide. I rested my cheek on the hard table surface and shut my eyes. The situation was unreal, like a dream coming alive. One of my fantasies was coming true. I really was about to be fucked by my boss in his powerbase.

He used his feet to push mine apart further, wider. I knew he was going to fuck me and did not think he had my pleasure in mind. A finger touched my anus, I winced and flinched away, his finger went south and plunged into me, he used it to probe, in and out quickly. Finger gone and I heard his zip coming down, he was breathing fast, keen to be about his business. His hard shaft pressed against my entrance.

“I’m going to fuck you now.” Not quite a question.

I could not
talk but I nodded my head. My ponytail was grasped and held tightly, pulling my head and shoulders off the table.

“Hold tight,” he instructed. “Nobody can hear us,” he hissed down at me.

I exhaled a loud cry when he rammed into me, he did not go deep but hovered for a minute. Holding my waist and hair as I took him in me. Then he started to move in and out rapidly, audible grunts as he exerted himself. I was uncomfortable but not in pain, deep down the sex
was what I wanted. The submissive bent over for her master, servicing his pleasure. The thought of this, not the reason why I was here, but just the idea that I was being fucked aroused me intensely. He leant over me and started to rest his weight on his elbows, dropping my ponytail. My bum was being painfully chaffed by his trouser button, his weight was starting to crush
me and panic was setting in. It was t
oo much and he was suffocating me
. I
could not breathe and my
arousal was lessening. My natural survival instinct kicked in and I was writhing and making distressing noises. I was going to safe-word. Before the word came out, he pull
ed up as if he had read my mind.

“Are you alright?” Jason’s voice sounded mildly concerned.

“Couldn’t breathe, OK now,” I panted back.

He was still inside me, he began to move again with urgency but he stayed upright. He gripped my hips tightly and filled me. His ejaculation was accompanied by his forceful exclamation of pleasure. “Fuck,
oh Fuck
,” he exclaimed as he leant forward on his hands.

One hand reached down between my legs and found my tender spot and he rubbed it hard. I gasped and pushed back against his hand, I was so ready to come. Then he stopped and removed both his hand and the remnants of his erection from inside me.

No
! I was left incomplete and extremely frustrated, my personal hunger unfulfilled. I heard his zipper going back up and he walked across to the other side of the room and opened a door. A tap running in another room, he was washing his hands. Then his footsteps returned and I sensed him nearby.

“Get up. Use the bathroom to tidy yourself up.”

I gingerly rose and scooped up my clothes. I could barely walk. Even though my shoe heels were low, I tottered across the room. I washed myself with a handful of tissues and put my clothes back on. Rinsing the tears off my face, I looked in the mirror. My eyes were red and puffy and my hair was a mess. I quickly tidied it with my fingers.

When I came out, Jason was back at his desk sat down, necktie back on and he looked very unflustered like nothing had happened. I stood in front of the desk, like a naughty schoolgirl. My legs were very wobbly.

“I’d suggest you sit down, but somehow I don’t think you want to,” he looked up at me from his computer screen with an unsuppressed smirk.

“No,” I whispered.

“Go home, stick your fiery arse in an ice bath, use arnica cream every few hours and take two paracetamols.”

“Yes, sir,” I could barely utter words.

“I’ve arranged someone to drive you home. You can wriggle on the back seat of the car, save you the embarrassment of trying to use public transport.” Jason leant back in his chair, hands resting on the back of this head. He looked me up and down.

“God, you’re a sight.”

He got up, walked round to my side of the desk and perching on the edge. He took my hands in his and rubbed his thumb along on my knuckles. A tear trickled down my cheek.

“What?” he snapped impatiently at me.

“Tomorrow evening...” I trailed off.

“Martinson will pick you up at seven, as usual,” he smiled as he watched me dissolve into uncontrollable sobs. He pulled me towards him and held me against his shoulder.

“Gem, what’s wrong? Did I really hurt you bad? You didn’t safe-word me. I’m right?” He genuinely looked concerned.

“No, I thought you wouldn’t want me this weekend.”

I wiped my back of hand against my nose like an unruly child. He reached into a pocket then remembered I had his handkerchief already. I fished it out of my sleeve.

“Silly girl. Why wouldn’t I. Punishment over, I’m satisfied, we’re moving on. OK?” he tipped my chin up and looked in my eyes. He sensed my continuing anxieties. “What?”

“I was afraid, at first, of your anger. Men have such quick tempers. I can cope if I know you can control it.”
I looked directly into his eyes. His self-control was important to me, to our mutual trust.

“I see,” Jason placed his hands on my waist, squeezing me slightly.
“Gemma, while I’ve been a dominant, I have never knowingly physically hurt any of my subs beyond what they can tolerate. I can control myself when I punish, trust me. I will stay within the parameters of your limits and your marks will only ever be temporary. Emotional pain. Well that’s not so easy to deny or judge.
People are very different in their
limits. My verbal lashings are notorious, even in the work place. As long as we keep communicat
ing, that is what is important.”

The relief flooded through me and he grasped my face and planted a kiss on my lips. I parted my lips, let his tongue in and for a few minutes we were lost like this. Suddenly he pulled back.

“Come on, Martinson is waiting in the basement car park. Save you the embarrassment of staggering out past security in the foyer. See I can be a kind dom,” he smiled, melting my worries away.

“See you tomorrow, Jason.”

I felt much better. I walked carefully to the door and unlocked it. My backside was still flaming and I was now very desperate to follow his advice and soothe it in some way. I looked back as I opened the door and he was still perched on the desk watching me with those intense blue eyes.

He smiled a warming desirous smile. “Tomorrow, Gem, looking forward to it. I’ll ring you and check you’re looking after yourself.”

I was very glad I was in a private car. Lying on my side on the back seat, clutching my handbag, I tried to make sense of what just happened. However,
I was too tired to think rationally. Jas
on was incredibly cross with me -
he had spanked me, fucked me and then went all nice on me. He knew how to reassure my frail nerves.

What the hell had I got myself into?

The spanking hurt as he intended it to, but he was in total control, he sensed when I had had enough and then eased up when he was fucking me too hard. I did not have to safe-word,
he could read my thoughts through my body. I was desperate not to let down him
and the relief at not safe-wording was pervasive. I began to appreciate that I have found a very special master. I did not
want to lose Jason. Would he keep me and make it a permanent relationship? I had
a strange stirring in my heart. My emotions were mixed and confused.

Was I falling in love with Jason Lucas?

 

***

 

Friday evening came by quickly. The previous evening I had sat cautiously in cold bath water with ice cubes added for extra affect.
I had applied cream very liberally to my very red bottom. From what I could see in the mirror, small parts of it were definitely going to go black and blue. I had
winced.
I had been spanked before and harshly too. Jason had patently done it many
times before too, his expertise was apparent to me. Spanking was pretty
much a routine part of many of those in a Dominant / submissive relationship, I knew I needed to get back into the swing of it. I slept quite well considering, the paracetamol had helped.

Jason had rung before I left for work in the morning, a brief business like call as he had
asked me if I had been applying the cream and sitting in my icy bath. I
had reassured him that I was recovering from my punishment.

“Good, wouldn’t want you to be off work,” he had teased me as he put the phone down.

I spent the day gingerly sat on my bum at work. Every opportunity I had to run an errand away from my desk was quickly pounced upon.

Just after seven o’clock, his Jaguar pulled up outside, I was watching from the window. Grabbing my overnight bag and switching the lights off, I shut my front door behind me and stepped out into the evening light. Martinson was out of the front driver’s seat and opened the door for me, relieving me of my bag. I peered inside the car, Jason was in there waiting for me.

“Lie down if you want, you can rest your head on my legs if you wish.”

I smiled, grateful for his consideration. We set off and I was quite happy, snuggled up in the back of his car, the warmth of his thighs under my face. He rested a hand on my head and absentmindedly stroked my loose hair strands.

The car door woke me with a jerk. I must have dozed off for a while.

“We’re here. Come on, babe, time to eat.”

Jason helped me up and out of the car and I followed him into the house, holding his hand.

I cooked a quick dish of omelettes and a tossed salad dressed in one of my favourite homemade dressings. He sat on a breakfast bar stool watching me.

“Jason, if I need particular ingredients in, to cook for you, um, how can I get them here?” I asked.

His kitchen was well stocked, probably by his mysterious housekeeper. There were a few things missing that I would prefer to be present.

“There’s a notepad in the top drawer, just write what you need and Mrs Harris will stock up for you.” He pointed at one of the units.

“Oh, right.”

I checked the contents of the drawer and easily found the small note pad. The imprint of his handwriting left on the blank sheet.

“Mrs
Harris. Has she been your housekeeper for long?” Curiosity was getting the better of me, but he seemed forthcoming tonight.

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