Hard Choices (6 page)

Relationship. I like the sound of that.

I tip my chin up, meeting his gaze again, a hint of defiance that I suspect will cost me later. I hope. “That you fuck me. At least once a day.”

His eyes are a vivid grey, deep and stormy, and I wonder if maybe I’ve pushed my demands too far. Doms do like to set the pace, especially where sex is concerned.

“If I agree to your conditions, then I have a fourth one of my own.”

He pauses, and I gesture with my hand that he should continue, but I think I know what’s coming.

Sure enough, “When we get back to my house, you strip for me, then lay yourself across my knees and accept a spanking. I’ll take your injury into account, but it
will
hurt.”

He holds out his right hand.

“Do we have a deal, Miss Stone?”

“Why do I deserve a spanking? A hurting one, I mean.”

“Firstly, for messing about on that bloody chair mainly and breaking your wrist. And for being so demanding just now. And for keeping me awake the last three nights with a raging hard-on. Good enough?”

He had the last word in the end, but I’m happy with that. So we shake on it. My bum’s tingling already.

We call in on Dan’s precious lemurs again before we leave the zoo. He’s not around today, but I understand that he and Nick are close friends and it’s only a matter of time before I see him again. It’ll be fine, though, as far as I’m concerned. No hard feelings on my part. I’m not sure their friendship will survive intact, but we’ll see.

Back at Nick’s house, within two minutes of the front door closing behind us, I’m standing in the middle of his—our?—kitchen, wearing nothing but his chain. He pulls one of the solid oak chairs out from the table and takes a seat.

“I intend to fuck you straight after this, so that’s something to look forward to, for me at least. You may not feel so kindly disposed to me when I’ve finished spanking your delectable arse. Get over here. Now.”

He clearly means business, and I know better than to even think about using any delaying tactics. Even though he promised to go easy on me in view of my broken wrist—at least I think that’s what he said—the determined set of his jaw and distinctly harsh glint in his eyes suggest otherwise. I draw a deep breath, and step forward.

Nick is in no hurry. He allows me ample time to lean across him, resting my stomach on his knees and letting my upper body fall forward. I use my right hand to brace myself against the leg of his chair, but I’m not sure where to put my left wrist. I can’t quite reach the floor to lay my forearm flat, and anything else is painful. I wriggle and shift around, but I’m struggling to find the right position. Nick realises immediately what the problem is.

“This won’t do.” He reaches down and helps me to stand. “Go to the bedroom. Wait for me there.”

I nod and do exactly as I’m told.

A few moments later he’s following me into the bedroom, carrying the chair from the kitchen. He places it at right angles to the bed, and sits down on it.

“Right, over my knee again, but this time you can rest your body on the bed, and stretch out your arm. Let’s see if this is more comfortable. I intend to make your arse burn, but I promised to take your broken wrist into account. You can tell me afterwards if it worked.”

My mouth dry, despite my usual fondness for bare-bottom, bare-handed spanking, I assume the required position. This time I am able to rest my arm comfortably, and with a little more shifting and wriggling I’m soon as ready as I’m going to be. When I’m lying still, Nick asks me if it’s all right to continue, and I nod my agreement.

“Okay. We’ll start with a little massage, to bring the blood to the surface and increase the sting. You want this to be a memorable lesson, I’m sure, so you’ll appreciate my attention, I expect. Won’t you, Freya?”

He doesn’t touch me, though, and after a few moments I look over my shoulder, wondering what the delay is. He’s watching me carefully, clearly waiting for something. At last he clarifies.

“I asked you a question, sub. I expect an answer.”

Ah, right. The demanding, intransigent Dom, who’ll insist I thank him nicely for the discipline he’s about to deliver. I comply quickly, my nod telling him I do indeed appreciate his kindness in preparing me properly.

The next few minutes are blissful as he massages my buttocks firmly, his fingers digging into the fleshy curves, kneading the soft skin. I part my legs without any instruction from my Dom, and he slides his fingers between them to investigate my wet, warm folds.

“You’re very wet, little sub. Maybe you will enjoy being fucked after all. Or maybe not. We’ll see.”

And with that he brings his palm down hard on my bottom, first the left buttock, then the right, in quick succession. I jerk sharply—it hurts. This is most definitely a punishment spanking rather than one intended to arouse. His free hand is in the small of my back, holding me still, and he shifts his right leg to trap both of mine. Satisfied that I’m going nowhere, he starts again.

I count the slaps, and start to sob silently at ten. Any concession to my delicate state is most definitely restricted to the position of my arm, and he’s making no allowance at all as far as the severity of the spanking is concerned. By the time he’s delivered twenty blistering strokes I’m sure I’m close to my limit. He’ll stop if I use a safe signal, or at least he’ll give me a short respite. But he’ll insist on completing the punishment before he allows me to apologise and we can move on. Chewing on my bottom lip, I decide to try to get through it now rather than drag it out. But it’s hard. By twenty-five strokes my bottom feels to be on fire, and I’ve no idea how much more he has in store for me.

“Thirty. I’ll stop after thirty. Can you manage that?”

His intuitive Dom antennae again, he always seems to know what I’m thinking—can read my response like a book. And knowing the end is in sight I nod and allow my body to go limp, accepting the last few slaps stoically. Suddenly, it’s over. Nick stops at thirty, and I remember to breathe again.

I wince as something cool hits my abused, tender bottom, then I relax as soothing balm soaks into my skin. Nick gently massages the cream in, his free hand now lightly trailing up my side to tease the side of my breast. He gives me the few minutes I need to recover, to get myself under control again ready for the next instalment.

He was wrong in one respect, though. My enthusiasm for being fucked by him is undiminished by my ordeal.

He rolls me onto my back and helps me to ease farther onto the bed, then lies down alongside me. He takes me in his arms, and I go readily, clutching at his shirt with my good hand. I know I must be wetting his shirt as my tears are still flowing freely, but he doesn’t appear to mind. He strokes my hair, kisses the top of my head, and I feel absolutely cherished. After a few minutes I push myself up to kneel on the bed facing him. Sitting is still quite out of the question, and I suspect it will be for a while yet. He smiles at me wryly as he leans around to view my bottom.

“A truly spectacular shade of crimson, sweetheart. Quite beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I sign. Then, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to balance on a chair like that. And I was rude and disrespectful earlier, at the zoo.”

He looks at me, his expression amused rather than stern now. “You know, Freya, I’m not at all convinced you
are
sorry. Your accident was unfortunate but could have been worse, I suppose. But you’re headstrong and I have no doubt you’d do the same thing again if I wasn’t around to stop you. And although your attitude today might have lacked the submissive qualities I’m coming to expect from you and will definitely enforce from now on, I’m glad you outlined your terms. So, it’s done, and we’re here. Together. And I believe I still have to fulfil your third condition.”

He stands over me as he undresses, and I watch with undisguised interest. A few moments later he’s alongside me again. “Do you want to roll over? You might be more comfortable face down.”

How considerate. I roll onto my stomach and spread my thighs.

“Ah, now that
is
a submissive position. You’re redeeming yourself nicely, my sweet little sub. Lift your bum up a bit.”

Obediently I start to push myself up onto my knees but it’s not easy with just one good arm. Nick spots my difficulty.

“Hold it, let me help.” He grabs two pillows, then shoves his arm under my stomach to lift me. He pushes the pillows under my hips and sets me back down, now suitably supported and ready.

“Is that better? Comfortable?”

I turn to him and nod. Nick smiles at me as he trails his fingers lightly over my sore bottom, and I start to tingle deliciously.

“Ah, anticipation is everything. I think you’re looking forward to this after all. Am I right, Freya?” His tone is a low murmur now, warm and rich and incredibly sexy.

I nod, uncaring if he can detect my desperation. I just want him to get on with it. I wriggle my hips, my invitation clear. And I let my eyelids drop with sweet relief as he shifts into position behind me. Moments later my impatience is rewarded as he thrusts into me, deep and hard. I squeeze him, my inner muscles clamping around his cock in welcome. He holds still for a heartbeat or two then starts to pump his cock into me. His rhythm is fast, quickly picking up pace until he’s driving into me hard. I brace myself against the force of his thrusting and gyrate my hips to increase the delightful friction. His accuracy loses nothing to the strength of his strokes, and he hits my G-spot every time. He leans in, as I start to clench uncontrollably and for an awful moment I half expect him to forbid me to come.

Instead, “Go for it, girl.” And as if to make sure I do have the most intense orgasm he can deliver, he places his middle finger firmly across my clit and flicks it sharply from side to side. My climax rips through me, filling my body with a shuddering, pulsating whirlpool of sensation. I grasp the duvet in my fist and hang on as he continues to fuck me hard, relentless. His body is slamming into mine, my still sore bottom absorbing yet more punishment. But I’m loving it now as the waves of pleasure roll through me, and out through my fingertips. The sweet sting of his continuing assault on my buttocks adds to and enhances the sensation. I wonder, idly, as the warmth of his semen fills the condom, if it might just be possible to die from pleasure.

Maybe, but not on this occasion. Not quite.

At last we’re both still, lying exhausted on the bed. Nick pulls me into his arms.

“Welcome back, little sub.” He murmurs the words softly against my hair.

I drop a kiss onto his chest. It’s all the reply needed for now.

* * * *

Later, over dinner, Nick looks at me casually as he chews his steak. He’s enjoying his with thick-cut chips and salad, while I just settled for the salad. Still, it’s good. He may not understand the rudiments of egg boiling—though we are working on that—but he certainly knows his way around a griddle.

“So, fancy a trip out with me tomorrow?”

The suggestion takes me by surprise. I glance up, interested.

“I need to go to Manchester. I mentioned I’m buying a club there, didn’t I?” I nod obligingly. “Right. Well, I need to go down there and sign the papers. I intend to look the place over at the same time, and I wouldn’t mind having your view as well. You may spot issues I’d miss, from the sub’s perspective, I mean. So, you up for that?”

Wow! Am I?
I’m just so delighted that he seems to want to actually include me in his life, and not just in his dungeon or his bed. Whilst I’m no expert on running fetish clubs, I know how I think they should function from a sub’s point of view at least. Privately I take the view that how a club looks after the submissives who use it
is
the make or break factor. Doms are not so vulnerable, but subs can get hurt if people act like idiots or the supervision is sloppy. The Collar is my sort of club—that’s why I joined, and why I was so keen not to get thrown out.

I sign my reply, “Yes. I’d love to come.”

Nick just grins wickedly. “Yeah, babe, I know that. But what about tomorrow?”

Chapter Five

We set off after lunch in my car as Nick’s bike is still parked under my apartment. I doubt I could have ridden safely anyway. By unspoken consent, he drives. Our first stop is to be a solicitor’s office in Manchester city centre, then we’ll be dropping in at the club. The lawyers know we’re coming to their offices but I gather we’ll be arriving unannounced at the club. Clearly Nick appreciates the value of spot checks, and I suspect a lot of jobs are suddenly on the line.

We arrive at the solicitor’s offices and Nick parks in a space designated for visitors. Courteous as always, he comes around to open my car door for me, then laces his fingers through mine as we make our way across the acres of thickly carpeted foyer.

“What do you know about this club? And what if you decide you don’t like it after you’ve signed the papers?” I sign my questions as we wait in the solicitor’s reception area while the immaculately turned out front of house staff announce our presence. Well, Nick’s.

“I’ve checked the books carefully enough, and that’s the main thing. It turns a decent profit but I think I can improve on the figures. The location’s superb, right in the city centre. It needs some renovations to the building and maybe some new equipment. We need to keep these Mancunian subs on their toes—literally.”

That sounds ominous. I cast him a wary glance. “Do you have anything specific in mind?”

“I do, actually. I’m thinking of a St Andrews cross incorporating nipple clamps. Would you fancy that, do you think? Your hands tied behind you, and you could be suspended by your nipples with just your toes on the floor?” He lifts one eyebrow, his smile distinctly lascivious.

I fold my arms protectively across my breasts, and his grin broadens. “Thought so. You’ll love it. You have such sensitive nipples, Freya, I’m just surprised I didn’t think of suspending you by them before. Anyway, I’m thinking of importing one and you definitely get to be first to try my new toy, my sweet.”