Tell Me (22 page)

The tender moment was over as quickly as it began. Tony was all business again, his stern Dom persona back, he exuded authority. “Kneel on the chair.” Tony tilted his chin at the seat he vacated earlier. “Face the back, fold your arms along the top and lean forward, your bottom lifted up as high as you can.”

Thea got to her feet as gracefully as she was able given that her knees had turned to jelly. She climbed onto the chair, and adopted the position he required. She arched her back, lifting her buttocks for punishment.

“Do you have near neighbours who might be alarmed by the noise you’re about to make?”

Thea nodded. “Yes, possibly. There’s another flat on this floor, and I have neighbours above and below me.”

“I thought so. A gag then.” He stepped forward, pulling a pair of her sexiest stockings from his pocket. She last saw them in her bedroom drawer. “Open your mouth.”

Thea obeyed, and Tony rolled one of the stockings into a ball and stuffed it in her mouth. He used the other to secure it in place, wrapping the length around her face and tying it at the back of her head.

“I don’t intend to tie you up because you’ll remain still. Won’t you?”

Thea nodded, determined to accept what was coming without protest. She had earned this, and deserved whatever he might mete out.

“Your safe signal will be two sharp slaps on the back of the chair. If you use it, I’ll stop. Your punishment will not be concluded though, and we’ll return to it at a later time and continue until I’m satisfied you’ve learnt your lesson thoroughly. So, a hand spanking first then…” He moved to stand behind her. “Ready?”

Another nod, then Thea flinched as the first slap cracked across her right buttock. Tony was not going easy on her, even if this was only meant as a warm up. In seconds her backside was aflame, the rapid fire spanking covering every inch of her bottom and thighs. He continued to rain the sharp strokes across her tender skin until she was sobbing behind the gag, tears streaming unchecked down her face.

Tony didn’t speak to her. He administered the punishment with ruthless, determined skill, heating her skin until she felt sure her backside must be glowing.

At last, he stopped. He rested his palm against her bottom, stroking to massage the pain away. Or drive it deeper. His other hand in the small of her back offered comfort, reassurance that this was done with love and caring, and that she would be safe.

He didn’t hang about. Moments after he stopped spanking her with his hand he reached for the fish slice and the burning strokes started again. The implement made an ominous whooshing sound as he swung it, and with each whistling swipe through the air Thea clenched her bottom. She knew she should try not to, but couldn’t help it.

“Surrender, and this will be over more quickly.” His voice was cold, almost arctic.

Thea knew what he wanted, and that he would continue to punish her poor throbbing bottom until he was satisfied all resistance had gone. She concentrated on not tightening her muscles, working to accept all that he offered.

The blows all melted into one. Her bottom was on fire, her thighs too as he dropped stroke after sizzling stroke on her unprotected skin. She would inspect later, but knew her backside must be bright crimson. The pain was relentless, building, growing, spreading, consuming her. Thea sobbed, and screamed behind the gag, and was perversely comforted by its presence. She could let rip, scream her throat hoarse, with no danger of them being disturbed.

After what seemed an eternity Tony slowed the strokes, then stopped. He tossed the fish slice onto the seat beside her, and once again trailed his fingers over her abused buttocks.

Thea hissed, though she knew he wouldn’t hear. He would know though, just as he always did.

“Your bottom’s scorching. I think we’re getting there. Just a little more, I think. To drive the message home.”

Thea groaned to herself, but never contemplated slapping the back of the chair. Tony would decide when the punishment was finished, when she’d had enough, and only then would this be over. She would have gritted her teeth if the gag allowed that, but instead had to settle for biting down on the nylon stuffing her mouth.

She thought though that she might faint when he landed the first stroke with the heavy wood, and made a mental note to dump the vile cheeseboard in her bin first chance she got. It felt like the paddle be bought, but more. Much, much more. It was solid, weighty, each stroke catching the whole of her buttock. Tony put enough force behind the blows to send her jolting forward each time. She was beyond sobbing now, reduced to just grunting as each thunderous blow landed on her flaming backside. He had never hurt her like this before. His discipline had never been so sustained, nor so relentless. She knew he wasn’t angry, not even a little, but he clearly meant to make this an experience she would never, ever forget.

He had succeeded. Thea’s throat was hoarse, her screams now reduced to feeble whimpers. She lacked any strength to clench her bottom, nor even to hold her own weight any more. As she sagged and would have slumped onto the seat Tony slipped his arm under her stomach and held her up to receive the remaining strokes. Thea offered no resistance. She lay across his supporting arm like a rag doll as he continued to spank her.

“We’re done.” Thea was aware, dimly, of the thud as the makeshift paddle landed beside her knees on the seat. Her eyes were closed, she had no inclination to open them. She started to sink as Tony removed his arm.

“No, remain there. Don’t move, and don’t rub. You will stay in place, thinking about what just happened and why.” His tone was implacable. Thea groaned, fearing that even now he might decide more punishment was required.

She dipped her head in silent acknowledgement of his command, and struggled to convince her muscles to cooperate. Her bottom and thighs were in agony, the pain excruciating but oddly cleansing too. Therapeutic. She had paid dearly for her error, but now the slate was clean.

Tony’s footsteps crossed the room, and she heard the door click shut. She was bereft, wishing he hadn’t left her on her own. She hated to be alone after a scene, even more so after a punishment. She needed to know he loved her, that they were all right. She wanted him to hold her, comfort her, make this go away.

Not the pain, she loved that, revelled in it, savoured the vicious burn as it caressed her heated skin, proof of her atonement. Physically she was fine, grounded. But her head was all over the place. Until her Master confirmed that she was still his, she was nothing. Nowhere.

“Tell me, Thea.” His voice was low, and came from close by.

Not gone then? He hadn’t left her alone. She should have known. Gentle hands were in her hair, untangling and untying the stocking which held her gag in place. It was gone, and the nylon in her mouth too. Her tongue was dry, but he held a bottle of water to her lips. She sucked, accepting his comfort, soaking it into her dry mouth as she absorbed his care into her needy, parched soul.

“What are you thinking? Right now, in this moment? Tell me.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, sweet sub of mine.”

“Yours. Yes. Please Sir, I need…”

“This?” He lifted her from the seat and slipped under her. He lowered her body on top of his, but turned her too so she was curled up in his lap.

“Yes Sir. This.” Thea snuggled up, gripping the front of his shirt as he wrapped his arms around her. Then something else. Her duvet. He must have brought that when he went to find the stockings. Always planning ahead, knowing what she would need. Always taking care of her. Suddenly she was sobbing again. “I’m sorry, so sorry.”

“Sssh, I know. It’s over. Done with. Cry if you need to, but stay still now. When you’re ready to move I’ll take you to bed. We’ll talk more tomorrow, if you want to.”

Bed?
“Sir, will you fuck me?” She might enjoy that, though her arse was so sore she seriously wondered.

“No, not tonight though you do make one delectable little package with your bottom so gloriously punished. But I’m not going to fuck you, for two reasons. First, this was a punishment and I have no wish to dilute it. Nor to confuse it with anything else. When I spank you, seriously spank you as I just did, that isn’t foreplay. And two, more than anything else right now, you need sleep. You’ve had a hell of a day.”

He was right. Of course, as always, Tony knew. Smiling through her sobs, clinging to him as though her life depended on it, and right in that moment Thea wasn’t at all sure it didn’t, she relaxed in his arms. And fell asleep.

“No answer.” Tony ended the call and slipped his phone back into his trouser pocket as he strolled back into Thea’s bedroom. He carried a cup of steaming Earl Grey tea which he placed on the bedside table.

Still sleepy, Thea smiled at him and rolled onto her back in the bed. She winced as her tender buttocks pressed against the mattress, but the discomfort could not dim her contentment. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she felt whole. Grounded. She was the complete Thea Richmond and ready to face the world. Starting with this mysterious phone number.

Jerome had called back the previous evening to say that the surreptitious photographer in the dungeon had been ridiculously easy to bribe. He’d been paid two hundred pounds to take the picture, and would be more than happy to accept four hundred to provide details of his client. But there was a problem, he didn't know her name.

Both Tony and Thea did a double take at that, they had assumed their enemy would be male, though there was no particular reason for them to think so. All Jerome could tell them was that this woman had contacted their informant and told him she wanted compromising pictures of a specific couple at The Wicked Club, He’d had just few hours’ notice. He was told to go to the club that same evening. He had their names, and a description, and his instructions were to wait for an opportunity to get a decent picture. Then he was to text the photo to a number he’d been given and the cash would be posted to him. His fee had arrived, ten crisp twenty pound notes in a brown envelope, so he assumed his client was satisfied with the bargain.

Jerome had extracted the contact number from him, the mobile phone that the picture had been texted to, and supplied that to Tony. He declared this the absolute best he could do and had virtually pleaded with Tony not to make a big fuss.

As she lay in bed, sipping her tea, Thea privately thought Jerome had got off lightly, The Wicked Club could have helped them to avoid all this if they’d been on the ball and confiscated that phone before the creep had a chance to send the picture to anyone. She had no confidence in the place any more and hoped Tony wouldn't insist on going back there. Ever.

The number was not one they recognised. Tony had dialled it immediately on the off chance that someone would answer and might give themselves away. So far they’d had no luck but Tony was right, they should keep trying.  Later, back in her office, she would do what she could to trace it. If the phone was on a contract she might get somewhere. And in the meantime, they would have to hold their heads up and dare anyone to have a go. As Tony pointed out, there were some perks to being self-employed, and one of those was that no one could sack you.

He perched himself beside her on the bed. He looked to have been up for hours. “How are you this morning?”

“Good. I’m good. Really. And I’m sorry again about how I reacted yesterday.”

“It’s done. Finished. And you’re better than good, baby. Did you sleep well?”

Thea smiled. He already knew the answer to that. He’d slept beside her.

“Yes, really well. Thank you for staying with me.”

“My pleasure, sweetheart. But I’ll need to be getting away soon. I need to pick up my stuff from home then go to the office. There’s a lot to deal with today.”

“I know that.” She snuggled in closer as he draped an arm across her shoulders.

“I know you were meaning to be at Kershaw’s today, but in the circumstances…”

“You’re right. I’ll come with you. We’ll face them together. Do I have time for a shower?”

“Of course. I’ll make more tea.”

*****

Tony called a staff meeting, in the canteen. Thea reflected that this seemed to be becoming a habit of his. She stood at one end of the room as their employees filed in and seated themselves. Denise positioned herself on one side of her and Chris on the other. Both had been solid in their support when they had been summoned into Tony and Thea’s office first thing, though in fairness they had had all night to discuss the bizarre picture each had found on their car as they left the previous evening. Eric too was on their side, and Thea knew he had been from the start. He had rushed to tell them as soon as he discovered the picture and had done what he could, belatedly, to contain the damage.

Isabel Barnard was still sulking. She had remained stony-faced during the meeting and offered no comment at all beyond acknowledging that she had been aware of the flyers distributed around the car park. If Tony had a view on her failure to alert him to it he did not allude to that.

He invited each manager to ask questions if they had any, or to make such comments as they found necessary. The only question came from Denise, who asked if Thea and Tony were in a relationship. Tony responded that they were, that they had known each other for some time, and that their relationship was a serious one. Permanent, he hoped. Their colleagues expressed delight at that, and Eric went so far as to wonder if he should advise Mrs Henderson to buy a hat.

The shock factor was gone, everyone knew about the pictures, and beyond that their senior managers were of the opinion that the matter would soon be yesterday’s news. The normally reserved Denise observed that the malicious bitch who had outed them might even have done them a favour, and the worst was already over. It was generally agreed that Tony was a popular figure at Dart, and Thea was becoming so. Most of their staff knew the part she’d played in getting Jeremy Malone reinstated. Dart employees were loyal, and pragmatic enough to appreciate a decent boss. How the company managers chose to spend their leisure time was of no concern to anyone else. Well, not much.