When in Rio (12 page)

Jack came out of the shower whistling cheerfully and I smiled beatifically as I watched him dry himself off, the heavy cream color of the hotel towel making a nice contrast against his steam-flushed skin.

“Would you like me to do that for you, Sir?” I asked, although I frankly wished I could
be
that towel, more so than just using it. He looked scrumptious.

Jack favored me with a lopsided smile and held the towel out for me. I was surprised that my knees didn’t protest more when I stood up to take it and started running it carefully, methodically over his body, trying very hard to resist the temptation to linger overlong when I dried off the more interesting portions of him. He wasn’t quite erect, about half hard from the warmth of the shower and, no doubt, the stimulation being provided by a naked towel girl.

“That’s enough, little one,” he said, before I felt I’d done a truly thorough job. He tucked my hair behind my ear on one side and then slipped his hand down to pluck at my nipple until it hardened. Then the other one—few men cared for the asymmetry of lopsided nipple arousal—before touching my hair again with a sad little smile.

“We need to get some things out of the way, pet. I did warn you about consequences earlier.”

“Yes Sir. I remember.” Damn. I thought I might be about to find out just what else he could accomplish with that bare hand of his.

“Put your hair up. Make it tight, you don’t want pieces hanging loose. Then go in the bedroom, I’ll be there in a minute.”

And again��damn.

Chapter Ten

It hadn’t been that bad, not really
, I rationalized to myself as I sat there, waiting, trying not to let myself get worked up. But it was more the idea, the look of disappointment on Jack’s face that was sending creeping fingers of anxiety along my spine, over my stomach, making me glad, indeed, I hadn’t eaten more.

Hoping it was the right gesture, I knelt by the foot of the bed to wait, one hand clasped in the other behind my back, eyes down, a classic posture of submission. I saw only Jack’s feet when he walked in, walking past me to the closet where our suitcases were stored, pulling out not his case but what sounding like a paper bag, from the crumpling noises. He had turned a few lights out along the way, enough so that the darkening view was visible. Still more light in the room than I would have preferred though, not that my preferences mattered at this point.

He came back and stood directly in front of me, feet at my knees, and dropped something soft on my thighs. Black, heavy silk lining buttery-smooth leather…a mask. At least I would feel like the room was dark.

“Put it on,” he said abruptly. “And I shouldn’t have to tell you to spread your knees. I didn’t require you to sit in that pose, but if you’re going to do it, do it right.”

His voice sounded different when I couldn’t see him—darker, sterner. A tiny hint of fear flavored my tension, although somehow it was less than I expected. Because I still trusted him implicitly, I found. Even blindfolded, kneeling at his feet and waiting for whatever came next. I knew that within the context of this strange game we felt compelled to play, whatever came next would be fair, only what was necessary, and that afterward we would both feel better.

“Now. About your luggage. What toys did you bring? I know there must be something. Tell me.”

“Sir? Oh…there’s a little cordless vibrator with a bunny thing on it. And a silver bullet. And then just a regular vibe, a smooth metal one. That’s all.”

“That’s
all
? One wasn’t going to be enough or you just couldn’t make up your mind?” I held the note of amusement in his voice to me like a cuddly animal, it was such a relief to hear it still there. I could also hear a long zipper being undone and the soft, scratchy sounds of things being moved around in a suitcase.

My suitcase.

“Well, you know. They do different things, Sir. And not all of them are waterproof, Sir.”
Please don’t confiscate my toys…

“I’ll just be keeping these for a while. Wow, you really were well stocked, weren’t you? And these are all very nice, good stuff. No wonder you freaked about the bag getting lost. There must be a good two hundred bucks’ worth of vibrating fun in here. That anodized metal number is a piece of art.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Huh. Well, they’re mine for now. The bed’s directly behind you, little one. Climb up on it and lie facedown.”

“Yes Sir.” It was probably an awkward scramble to watch. The mask was a good one, I really couldn’t see a thing. Once I was lying where he wanted me, remembering only at the last to spread my legs, I heard him zipping and unzipping some more things, rustling the paper bag again…

“Unlike you,” Jack went on as he worked, “I came here woefully unprepared for anything like this. But fortunately,”
rustle, rustle, rustle
, “that place down the road really does carry a lot more than just lingerie. So when I went there, I didn’t buy any lingerie.”

I started at the noisy rip of hook-and-loop being opened, and knew what was coming a split second before I felt the cuff go around my wrist. He tightened it just to the point of snugness, not to discomfort, which told me I might be wearing it awhile. And then the other wrist. I wondered where he planned to anchor things, as it was a padded headboard, but all became clear when more cuffs followed. Ankles, thighs—and then the cuffs on each side were snugly clipped together, trussing me in a position that left my rear end both exposed and neatly framed by straps. As if he needed any help in aiming.

“I’m usually more of an improviser when it comes to bondage,” Jack commented as he tied me up. “Because I already have a lot of rock-climbing equipment and I’m good with knots. But these just seemed very practical. Lightweight, versatile, good for traveling. Sometimes it’s nice to have just the right tool for the job, you know?”

“Yes Sir,” I agreed a little despondently. The longer the delay, the more I was dreading the punishment itself, which was probably his goal. His cheerfulness was not helping.

“There. All tied up. You could probably get loose if you really needed to, but you’re not going to try to do that, are you, little one?”

“No Sir. It’s for my own good, to help me stay still.” Besides, I wasn’t sure if I actually
could
get loose. I tugged at one wrist restraint lightly and then a bit harder, suddenly feeling the need to try.

“
Shhh
…settle down, little one.” Jack ran a hand down my spine, his other holding the back of one of my thighs firmly, squeezing just a little. “Time to get this done. Tell me why I have to discipline you.”

My least favorite thing in the world.
“I…acted like I didn’t believe you, when you wrote that note earlier. I was just a smartass about it instead of doing what you told me to do, Sir.”

“That’s right, Katie girl. Just so you know, most of the time it’s fine that you’re a smartass. I don’t expect you to change who you are, but I do expect you to follow directions when I’m being
that
specific.
I
decide when the mood changes. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”

And the odd thing was, suddenly I
was
sorry, painfully so.

Usually at this stage of things, I felt I was playing a game in order to get into the right mindset for a paddling. But right now I was only sorry that I’d disappointed Jack. I never wanted to do it again. I
wanted
him to teach me this lesson. It amazed me, the way my value system had done this dramatic change at the bedroom door. Or, as in the current case, at the
figurative
bedroom door.

“What else, pet?”

“I was supposed to be waiting for you just like you said, to thank you for this afternoon, but I fell asleep, Sir. Covered up. I’m sorry, Sir, I
was
grateful, it was so sweet of you to arrange all that. It was such a wonderful afternoon,
please
…” I was babbling, had no idea what I was asking for, was pulling on the cuffs again, already almost in tears. He didn’t seem all that angry, more disappointed. And I hadn’t done anything all that bad. But I felt so frantic. What was wrong with me?

“Katie…pet,
shhh
. That part bothered me much less than you not taking my orders seriously. All right? You weren’t waiting like I wanted you to be and I’d been looking forward to it but,” he chuckled dryly, stroking my thigh, “you had an hour-long massage. You fell asleep. It happens. The other thing is more…I said I meant it, and you ignored that. You have to learn when to be a smartass and when to take me seriously about all this. Or we won’t get very far, will we?” He sounded sad again, and I would have done anything to put the light, teasing tone back in his voice.

“No Sir. I didn’t mean to be bratty.” He had taken his hands away and I could hear the bag rustling again. The dark felt heavy, oppressive. I wanted to see his face more than anything, to know what he was thinking. “Sir?”

“Yes, little one?”

“I want you to teach me…”

“I know.” His hand was back on my leg, fingers reaching higher, tracing all the way up to the little mark he’d left there earlier. It was still sore and he stroked it with a tenderness that tugged at my heart. “I know, little Katie. We both know. Now count for me. I need you to pay attention. Five for falling asleep, ten for being a brat earlier when you should have run straight up to the room, does that sound fair?”

“
Fif
-fifteen? Yes Sir. More than fair.”

It sounded too much more than fair, in fact. Until I heard the slight whistle through the air and felt the stinging crack—not of Jack’s hand but of a leather paddle, smacking my buttock just below Jack’s love bite.

I was so startled I forgot to count until Jack growled a reminder to do so and I yelped out “One!” just before the second stroke hit. At least I didn’t also have to thank him for each one.

“Two!” I gasped, thinking that fifteen suddenly seemed a long way off, thinking that I was glad I had picked safe words I could remember easily.

He knew what he was doing, pulling each stroke so that just the tip of the paddle connected, making it sting more, with a punch behind it but leaving no stripes. Keeping to the area that my bathing suit would cover, although at least one stroke went slightly astray. I would have welts, possibly bruises, but nobody else would see them.

I counted, struggling to keep track even though fifteen wasn’t very many after all. But the humiliation of knowing he had purchased a paddle
for this purpose
, of knowing he preferred to use his hand on me but
not for this
…it was far worse than the pain of the leather against my skin, even though I hadn’t been expecting that. I knew I’d taken more than this over the course of the previous night, but this hurt more than that, more than I had ever dreamed it could.

Smack.

“Thirteen…” Or was it twelve? Had I miscounted? The last blow was so sharp I couldn’t even cry out, just gasp, and I fought against the bonds, trying desperately to get away, unable to do so and feeling tears soak the mask that covered my eyes.

“Katie?” I heard the frown as Jack lost his rhythm. “Kate, that was supposed to be fourteen. Tell me what the safe word is, Kate. Right now!” He sounded sharp,
so
displeased. “
Kate
!”

Safe word? Oh!

“Red light,” I said, hearing myself as if from a long way away. “I’m so sorry, Sir, don’t be upset with me, I didn’t mean to lose count!”

And then I couldn’t help it. I burst into sobs. And when I felt him unhooking my wrists and ankles from my thighs, I thought he was going to send me away and it was too much, I would never survive that…

“Sit up,” he said softly, pulling me up just enough to sit with my back against his chest, pinning me there with one arm which I clung to like a lifeline. “Silly thing. You had me scared for a minute there. Here, take this off…” I squinted in anticipation of the brightness as the mask was pulled off, but Jack had turned off more lights and it was comfortably dark in the suite. “And drink this.” He pressed a glass of water into my hands and I sipped cautiously between efforts to gulp back tears, waiting all the time for the other shoe to drop. I’d failed, miserably, and I had no idea how to make it right.

“I’m so sorry, Sir, I was trying so hard to please you, I didn’t mean to disappoint you,” I whispered. And to my astonishment, I felt the rumble of Jack’s chuckle against my back, felt his breath warm against my ear as he tugged me even closer.

“You
do
please me, little Katie. You have no idea how much.”

“But…but I lost count. You couldn’t finish. And I should have safe-worded. I thought I was all right, it shouldn’t have been that bad, it was only fifteen, I don’t know why—”

“Katie. Stop talking.”

I stopped only because he told me to, not because I had run out of things to say.

“Yes, you should have safe-worded, but I also should have seen you weren’t going to. I didn’t think, because you did so well last night, but it’s different when you’re not having fun. You really wanted to get through that for me and I can’t fault you for that, it’s flattering. I think we need to talk about some safety issues if you’re going to get so far down you can’t speak up, but we won’t talk about it right this second, all right? You’ll just have to owe me that last one.” He stroked my hair, pulling it gently out of the
scrunchie
I’d used to pull it up with.

“You please me very, very much, little one,” he repeated, kissing my temple and forehead, turning me just a little in his arms.

“I’ve never had that happen before,” I admitted. “Where I couldn’t…get myself out.” Probably because I’d never actually felt remorse while being whipped and reminded I was a bad girl. I’d never actually
felt
it was discipline, just more excuses to play. Even when it hurt physically, much more than the pain Jack had been inflicting with the paddle.

“Really?” He sounded, if anything, even more pleased. I wondered if I should have revealed so much. He was pretty smug already. But the smugness, I was starting to realize, was a turn-on. “What does ‘never’ mean for you anyway, pet? Entertain me, tell me your sordid history,” he requested with dramatic irony.