Folly (30 page)

I just prayed he could remember where he'd put the keys.

Then I tensed again as I felt his hand on my bum. His palm was cool, almost cold.

‘Such a pretty backside,' he said. ‘So round and firm and feminine. I'm sorry I'm going to have to leave red marks all over your lovely pale skin, but as you won't tell me what I need to know, I'm going to have to punish you for it.'

He leaned forward and whispered in my ear, ‘It's going to hurt. But remember, it'll hurt me almost as much as it hurts you.'

And the next moment, I let out a yelp of pain and surprise, thankfully muffled by the duvet, as his palm slapped down across my buttocks with cauterising force.

He didn't ask me to count the blows – there were too many and they came too fast. Smack after stinging smack landed on my exposed behind. I cried out in protest and pain. ‘Stop!' I pleaded, but he only responded, ‘Every time you ask me to stop, you earn yourself another twenty. That's how it goes, remember?'

Instinctively, I tried to lower my hands to protect my bum, but since my wrists were handcuffed together, that effort was stopped as soon as it was started. Then I tried to wriggle from side to side to escape the blows, which was also pointless since my backside was bigger than his hand, and he had the advantage of being able to see what he was doing.

Eventually I just submitted and lay there, biting my lip against the onslaught of the blows, feeling my skin first sting and then burn as involuntary tears prickled my eyes. I did my best to ride out the punishment. I was determined I was not going to give in, nor beg him to stop again. He was not going to break my resolve.

And then he stopped, leaving my buttocks fiery hot and throbbing. Adrenaline-laced blood was raging through my veins. I kept quiet. Didn't move. Just tried to muffle my rapid breaths and wait, apprehensively, for whatever else he had planned.

He was breathing hard too, and he was leaning close now. I could smell his skin, and the subtle fragrance of the shower gel he'd recently used.

Gently he placed a hand on the skin of my rear, which I knew must be crimson.

‘You deserved that, didn't you?'

‘Yes,' I said into the coverlet. ‘I deserved it.'

The worst thing was that I really did, and that I couldn't tell him why.

Even so, saying the words out loud filled me with a powerful sense of shame. Admitting I'd deserved such childish correction was, indeed, humiliating.

‘Say thank you for the punishment,' he ordered.

‘Thank you for the punishment,' I whispered. I wasn't going to try to defy him. I genuinely didn't want another spanking.

‘You took your treatment like a good girl. So now you have a reward.'

There was a chinking noise and the next moment I inhaled sharply from the shock of the icy touch that soothed my burning skin.

He was holding ice cubes. Two of them, one in each hand, and he was massaging my buttocks with them, slowly and sensually, bringing me welcome, freezing relief. The sensation of the cold was incredible. The throbbing abated as my skin cooled. Droplets of melting water dripped over my thighs, pooled in the small of my back, trickled between my legs.

Then he moved his icy hands away.

‘Kneel on the floor,' he said. ‘And remember, one word of protest from you about anything we do from here on, and you'll get another beating.'

My head whirling, I slid off the bed and onto the Persian carpet at its foot, holding my cuffed hands in front of me. I would do whatever it took to avoid another spanking. His punishment had indeed forced me into submission.

He sat on the edge of the bed, still holding the ice cubes. He leant over me, his fringe falling forward, his expression intent. I looked down, scared to see the expression in his eyes. I could hear his breathing, which was still fast. That was ok, since my own was coming in shallow gasps.

He circled the ice around my breast, taking his time over it, spiralling inwards until I felt its freezing touch on my nipple. I glanced down to see the skin had pulled tight and hard and erect. Smiling slightly, he moved the ice over to my other breast and repeated the action.

‘Beautiful nipples,' he said. ‘Just begging to have two nice, tight clamps attached to them, to keep them so stiff and sensitive.' My eyes widened at that, and I froze in place. Would he really? Was he going to?

‘But since I don't have any clamps …'

I let out a long, shuddering breath. Small mercies, I supposed.

And then the sadistic bastard patted his trouser pocket. ‘Oh, wait a minute. Isn't that lucky? I appear to have a couple in here.'

Now my breasts were rising and falling faster, in time with my panicked breathing. He was actually going to use them on me. What would they feel like? Would they hurt?

He produced a small silvery clamp which, I noted, had slim crocodile teeth.

‘I think you'll enjoy this.'

Well, at least one of us thought so.

‘You should be grateful for it.'

He opened the clamp's long, narrow jaws and moved it closer to my breast. I couldn't help but stare down, watching him as he closed it carefully around the tip of my left nipple.

I could feel its grip, and some discomfort, but to my relief the pain was not unbearable. In a few seconds, he'd fastened the other one in place and my nipples were trapped, tight and hard, within their steely grasp. Seeing the little silver devices attached to my body looked both weird and kinky.

‘You don't believe that I'm doing you a favour by forcing you to wear them, but I am. I'll show you why.'

He moved his fingers onto the engorged tips of my nipples, stroking and rubbing them, and I caught my breath at the rush of sensation. The clamps had made them far more sensitive. Humiliated I might be, but his actions were causing my body to yearn for his touch, to beg for more, offering a pleasure response so intense I was practically sobbing. A coil of desire was smouldering inside me. I arched my back, forcing my breasts into his hands, squeezing my thighs together as I felt a pulse start to throb, deeply and insistently, in the pit of my belly.

‘Oh, dear,' he said, moving away and standing up. ‘You really shouldn't have done that, Emma,' he said.

Done what? What choice did I have? My eyes must have reflected my confusion because he carried on. ‘You've gone and got me all turned on again, just as I was about to perform a body cavity search. And that means we'll be forced to start with the oral search, won't we? I'm sure you know what you have to do in order to please me.'

As he spoke, he unbelted and unzipped his pants to free his cock, which jutted up, erect and engorged. ‘You know where you have to take it,' he whispered, leaning into me and twining his fingers through my hair as I closed my lips around the hot, swollen head and sucked, deep and hard and sensuously.

It wasn't long before he guided my head away.

‘Wicked woman,' he breathed, his voice hoarse. ‘I am going to have to stop you now. In fact, I think I must restrain you properly, because you are becoming dangerous.'

He grasped me under my elbows and guided me to my feet, then pushed me gently down on my back on the bed before lifting my arms up, and then behind my head. And the next thing I heard was a loud click – I realised he'd fastened the cuffs to the bed frame with a large steel carabiner.

‘I can't describe how erotic a sight you are,' he whispered. ‘It's turning me on so badly seeing you clamped and cuffed, naked and compliant. But I am a man of my word. I promised to do a thorough cavity search on you, and that will be done.'

Fastened to the bed, I craned my neck to see what he was doing. He was smoothing something over his fingers. Lubricant, I guessed. Great. I was going to get the full treatment, that was for sure, and once again I felt a shiver of apprehension.

He turned back to me.

‘Part your legs for me,' he demanded, leaning in close. ‘This procedure is going to be extremely thorough,' he whispered. ‘There's no telling where you may be hiding something. I strongly suggest you make an effort to be both willing and relaxed. If you resist me in any way, then I will be forced to use more severe measures, and those will be painful.'

Great. I'd never heard the command ‘Lie still' worded quite so persuasively. The problem was that I didn't know if I could control my response to him. I felt like there was an electric current zipping through every cell of my body. I felt incredibly aroused, but absolutely disempowered. Longing for his touch, but dreading it, too.

He slipped two fingers between my legs, stroked my outer lips, then pushed them inside.

‘Emma,' he said sternly and I jumped in response to his tone. ‘Open your eyes. You will keep looking at me.'

And he stared into my eyes as his fingers slid into me, the sensation cool at first from the lubricant but then warm and sure, stretching me open, filling me up, pressing against all my most responsive pleasure points so that my breathing quickened.

‘And I can't ignore this cavity,' he murmured, and my eyes widened as I felt another lubricated finger touching the sensitive entrance to my anus, then probing gently inside, thrusting deeper. The sensation was at once embarrassing and intensely arousing, and all the more so because I was trapped in the laser beam of his gaze.

‘So tight,' he whispered. ‘I'm going to have to do some training with you if I'm going to enjoy you to my satisfaction in the future.'

I had to force myself not to squirm at the thought of what that training, and that satisfaction, might involve. But I remained still. I didn't speak, just stared into his eyes, first obeying his instructions by trying to relax, and soon gasping as his fingers moved rhythmically in and out, the friction growing ever more delicious as he worked his magic inside me. The doubly erotic stimulation was becoming almost unbearably pleasurable … I couldn't take much more of this … I was going to come …

And then he stopped. That divine build-up ceased as he removed his fingers, leaving me swollen and needy; teetering on the brink but unable to reach it. Arching my hips towards him I pulled against the handcuffs, wishing for release, feeling the steel dig painfully into my wrists. He'd left me in purgatory and I could have screamed in frustration at the denial of my pleasure.

He leaned forward and stared down into my eyes, his rapid breathing matching my own.

‘I think the search must be called off now. After all, I've found nothing. Or am I wrong? Are you still hiding something?'

Only the secrets I can never tell you …

‘Yes,' I whispered. ‘I am hiding something. Please carry on.'

His eyes burned into mine. ‘If you want something, you're going to have to beg for it. You understand the rules, don't you?'

I blinked. How to beg? And what did I dare to ask for?

‘Please keep fingering me,' I muttered, feeling my face grow hot.

‘How badly do you want it?'Teasingly, his touch circled my flesh, slick with lubrication.

‘Very badly. I need it. Please.'

He probed me again, sliding just his fingertips inside so that my muscles tensed around them. I gasped with the anticipation of pleasure.

‘Push deeper, please. God, I'm imploring you.' My voice sounded ragged, broken. If he didn't let me orgasm soon there was a strong possibility I was going to spontaneously combust. Couldn't he see there was only so much denial I could take?

But, seemingly immune to my pleas, he slipped his fingers out again.

‘Well, despite your begging – which, I might add, needs some work – I don't think you've done enough. I think you deserve some time alone, to reflect on your misdoings, before I see to any more of your needs.' He stood up and turned away.

He was going? No way. He couldn't leave me now, empty and unsatisfied, handcuffed and unable to reach fulfilment for an indefinite period of time. And it wasn't only the physical frustration I found myself dreading. By punishing me with this time alone, he would also be playing on one of my deepest emotional fears – that he would, indeed, walk out of my life one day and never come back.

Suddenly, it came to me.

Begging had not worked, and clearly would not … but seduction might.

He wouldn't be expecting it; not now. And, certainly, this was one area where I had the necessary experience. I knew what my words could do …and they were the only weapon I had left.

‘I'm thinking of your needs,' I said aloud, and saw him turn back, frowning at the change he could hear in my tone, my voice now husky rather than hoarse.

‘I can only imagine how you're feeling,' I continued, and now it was my gaze that held his. ‘How hard you are; how painfully your cock must be throbbing. Why deny yourself when you could take your pleasure with me, Simon, and have me any way you want? I'm wet for you. Opened for you.'

I saw his expression flicker.

‘Think about fucking me. That voluptuous moment when you slide your cock all the way inside me, knowing you've made me yours … How you'll take exactly what you want from my willing body, using me to satisfy all your desires while I writhe underneath you, begging you for more.'

I moistened my lips with my tongue, making sure he saw. He took a step towards me, tension evident in every line of his body. I spoke again, my voice honeyed, seductive.

‘Imagine how good it will feel to let yourself come. To come deep inside me, pumping it in, knowing how much you need it. How you crave it.'

Simon yanked open his bedside drawer. He scrabbled inside before taking out a condom, tearing the wrapper off, and with unsteady hands and a fair degree of haste, rolling it on.

‘Simon,' I whispered to him as he practically ripped off his smart black shirt, ‘I want you to fuck me now.'

In one swift movement he lowered himself onto me, his hands bruising my thighs as he thrust into my sodden depths, filling me completely as I wrapped my legs around his thighs, pulling him deep within me.