Aprons For Gayle Ch. 13

He might have said it seriously, but something in his eyes told her he wasn't. She was suspicious and wanted to push a bit more.

"So, if I give you a twenty pin lead, do you think maybe we could place a little bet?"

She had no idea why she challenged him, and she tried to find a way to squirm out of what she'd said. Changing position in the chair did nothing but make the metal of the chastity belt dig against her bum.

"You are joking," he said, emphasizing the word 'joke.' "Shouldn'tyou be the one to have a pin lead?"

"Actually, no, I'm serious." She crossed her toes in hopes he wouldn't take her up on it, considering she knew she had no chance of ever beating anyone with an average that high.

"Oh, Ms. Boyce, you are playing with fire." His eyes narrowed, hoping she wouldn't press the issue any further.

"Sir, I love a good fire," she replied confidently.Shut up, Gayle!

"Alright," he said. "I call your bluff. You're on, lass."

Oh, what have you done, you idiot?!

Leaning back in the chair, he kept eye contact with her as he finished his drink and set it on the table. "Come here," he said, his tone playful yet lustful.

Nervously, she pushed the chair back and went to his chair, trying to prevent her hands from shaking. She just knew her punishment was under way. Smiling, he said, "Turn around."

When she did, he untied the apron and let it fall to the floor. Slowly, he moved his hands down to her ass cheeks and squeezed them a few times before running his flat hands up her back to her shoulders. With the back of his pinkie nail, he traced it back down to the small of her back.

"You have the loveliest bum I have ever seen."

"Hey!" she hollered before she realized she'd said it.

He turned her around quickly and brusquely, keeping his hands on her hips. "Ms. Boyce, that was a compliment," he said softly.

She sighed, looked down at her feet in shame and put her hands behind her. "I'm sorry, Sir." Putting his hand under her chin, he pulled her head up so she would look at him. "I'm not used to compliments, just –"

"Shh. Let it go." He dug into his pocket and pulled out the key to the chastity belt, unlocked it and placed it on the floor. "You've nothing to worry about tonight, Gayle. Clean up and meet me downstairs."

No. No! I want to keep talking! Instead of bickering and delaying, not that it would have done any good anyway, she replied, "Yes Sir."

xx xxx xx xxx xx xxx

Half an hour later, Gayle walked down the cold, hard, concrete steps of the dungeon, an eerie, red glow coming from below her, the crackling of a fire filling her ears. In her mind, all she saw was hell, and Hamish was the devil. Taking the last step, she took in a sharp breath when she saw Hamish standing in the middle of the room, the fire in the fireplace adding much needed warmth to the small room. He had taken his shirt off and was only wearing jeans and an appropriately devilish grin.

Putting out his hand, he said, "Come."

Stepping to him, she grabbed his hand, praying it wasn't shaking. Without a word, she allowed him to secure Velcro handcuffs to her wrists and ankles, her eyes following every move he made. Remaining silent, he then pulled her to him, took her face in his hands and kissed her. She wanted to touch him, to put her hands on his arms, but instead clasped her hands in the small of her back. Being well aware her breasts were flush against his, it was enough for her.

As their kiss grew, she started to lose her breath when his hot, slick tongue traced over her bottom lip. Closing her eyes, she melted into him, letting her tongue find his before he pulled away. She moaned her disapproval, not that she thought it would do any good.

His hands skimmed over her shoulders, forearms, her waist to the small of her back, their eyes locked the entire time. Before she knew what happened, he'd taken her hands and locked one wrist to a hook hanging from the ceiling. Again watching him, he locked her other wrist to the same hook. He tugged on them a few times, satisfied with the little bit of slack before he asked her if she was hurting; she told him she wasn't. It was the perfect height, being that her arm was straight and not too painfully stretched.

Nodding, he got a spreader bar, placed it between her feet and locked the cuffs in place, leaving her legs wide about two feet apart. Since she lost a little height with her legs apart, her arms made it impossible for her to move them even an inch. Standing back up, he again ran his hands over her body, eliciting goose bumps to erupt all over her body.

Closing her eyes, she took a moment to let her body speak to her, for it to tell her brain that she was in no danger, and to force herself to relax. She knew the more tense she was, the worse it would hurt ... whatever he was going to do to her. The heat from the fire warmed her, though she still felt chilled from fear.

He stepped behind her out of her view, so she stared into the fire, as if that would put her in some type of hypnotic mental state. It helped ... until he placed a blindfold over her eyes from behind. He moved it slightly to put it in place, then asked if she could see anything. Without even checking, she shook her head.

He promptly smacked her ass cheek. "Ms. Boyce, when you are in this room, you will use your voice. Do you understand?"

She was speechless for a second before she replied, "Yes Sir."

Suddenly, she sensed him standing before her, and he again asked if she could see anything. She turned her head every which way to see if she could see any light from the fire. She couldn't and told him so.

"Very good. Now, I will not tell you what I will use orwhen I will use it. This is what punishment is about. It is not to bring pleasure, but a way to reinforce your behavior. In addition, there will be pain involved, I will not lie to you. But I promise you I will not give you more than you can handle. Your safe words are still acceptable, and I expect you to use them. Do you understand?"

She nodded and weakly replied, "Yes Sir."

"Good. Do you know why you are here?"

Yeah, I know why I'm here. Because I accepted your offer back home. "Yes Sir. I wasn't at my place when you came home from work." She was on the verge of tears, and he hadn't even touched her yet.

"Exactly. Will you do it again?" That time when he spoke she knew he was behind her again.

She fisted her hands from nervousness, shook her head then replied, "No Sir, I won't."

An unexpected hard slap met her ass cheek before another slap on the other cheek, and she yelped in surprise. "Hmm. We'll see."

For several agonizing moments, Gayle hung from the rafters – literally – and waited for Hamish's next word or touch. She wanted to call out for him to make sure he was still in the room with her, but she knew that wouldn't be wise. She had to trust him, despite of her current situation.

A cold, soft, flat leather square ofsomething trailed from her shoulder blades to the small of her back before it rested on the fleshiest part of an ass cheek, just above the thigh. She felt the 'whoosh' of air before she felt the smack of the instrument against her ass. It wasn't as hard as she expected it to be, and for that she was grateful. But it had enough power to leave a sharp sting.

"Agghhmmmph," she moaned, trying to remain calm, wanting to keep some composure about her.

Another slap on the other cheek before it alternated in quick succession, each slap becoming harder, the stinging never letting up. He started by hitting a new area each time until he switched it up, hitting the same spots he'd already done, the stinging worsening and beginning to radiate down her legs and up to her shoulders.

When he sensed her discomfort he stopped, put the riding crop on the floor and ran his hands over her ass cheeks, hoping it helped with the sting and pain. She moaned softly, telling him what he wanted to know. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his lips in her neck, giving her kisses all over until she threw her head back and tilted it, hoping to feel his lips against hers.

Pulling back, he scolded her. "Now, now. I'm not done with you yet."

She groaned under her breath and got a hold on the chains she was dangling from to brace herself for more. The truth was while her ass did indeed sting, she could take more, but she didn't want him to know that.

"How is the pain?"

"It's fine, Sir."

"I'm going to take it up a notch. It is your responsibility to tell me if the pain becomes unbearable. It is my responsibility to ensure you are not hurt."

She let his words sink in, and she nodded. "I understand, Sir."

Smiling, he walked to the wall where his toys were hung and looked them over thoughtfully, trying to figure out which one he wanted to use next. When he saw the Lochgelly Tawse – one long, leather strip, about twelve inches long and four inches wide, each split in the middle, held together by a round, metal handle – he smiled.

Perfect, but be easy on her, ole' boy.

Gripping it in his hand, he went to Gayle, who was standing rigidly, grasping the chain above her head. Even though the fire was still burning strongly, her nipples were hard and screaming for attention. Standing in front of her, he bent over and attacked her pointy nipple with his lips, pinching and nibbling until he heard her moan softly. Looking up, her head was back, her mouth hung open, her chest slightly red, and her breathing coming fast. He had her right where he wanted her.

Taking it entirely into his mouth, he began to suck hard on her nipple as he ran his middle finger over her pussy, which he was thrilled to feel was drenched. Flicking the pad over her clit, she began to gasp, seemingly losing her breath. It didn't escape his attention when her nipple pulsed in his mouth, and once again his hardening cock responded.

Pulling his head back, he told her, "Control your breathing. And you willnot come."

Her head shook back and forth as her knees buckled from under her, but she forced herself to breathe in slower. Although she really tried to fight it, she failed. Hamish picked up on it, too.We'll save the orgasm control for later.

Standing back up, he clasped her face in his hands. "Gayle, take a deep breath through your nose."

When she did, he told her to exhale slowly through her mouth and to repeat it several times. It seemed to help her, and she released her death grip on the chain. Giving her a quick kiss, he told her, "Good girl. That's it. Better?"

"Yesss Sir," she sighed, biting her bottom lip.

At that point, he felt he had brought her down enough that she could continue. So he stood beside her, took the tawse and ran about two inches of its length from the top of her shoulders down to her calves, then brought it back up to her ass cheeks.

Her body tensed and waited for the impact of this strange, new torture device – okay, so it wasn't as torturous as she thought it would be; she actually enjoyed it, if she were honest with herself. It surprised the shit out of her how turned on she got, but she couldn't be sure if it was because she was completely restrained and at his mercy, or she allowed herself to accept her body's response of the mild pain that he inflicted. Either way, she had totally submitted to him.

Just as she had come to terms with her current predicament, a long, narrow slap landed across both of her ass cheeks, not hard, but enough to bring back the stinging from the first device. She cried out, a short, high-pitched wail gasp that caused Hamish to pause for a moment.

Affectionately, he rubbed her cheeks where two bright pink bands began to leave its mark. He so wanted to ask her if she was okay, but he didn't want to show any weakness – and he had plenty of weakness he felt he needed to hide. Yet, at no time did he feel he crossed the line with her, but he wanted to push her a bit further.

Lightly, he patted the tawse across the thickest part of her thigh, then on the outside before doing the same to her other thigh. She sighed loudly and held onto the chain again, bracing herself. Knowing she was ready for more, he began to paddle more areas of her thighs, calves, lightly on her shoulders then back to her ass cheeks. He gave her one smack harder than any of the others, across both cheeks.

Again he paused to gauge her reaction, and that time her shoulders shuddered, and she sniffled, but she didn't cry out, didn't protest, didn't even call out her safe word. She responded in a way he wasn't expecting, not so early in her training, anyway: After each impact, she would pull her hips away from him, but a split second later would push her ass out for more.

The fact that she was crying was enough to tell him she had enough, regardless of the fact she hadn't called her safe word. Putting the tawse on the floor, he stood in front of her and took her face in his hands, pulling her head forward so he could see her whole face.

"My little dove?"

"Hmm?" she whispered.

Oh, she was out of it, that much he knew. "Are you still with me?"

"Mmm hmm." Her head nodded like it was a bobble doll, but he held it firm.

Alright, you're a little farther gone than I thought. Maybe it's enough.

"More."

His head flew back in shock. "What did you say, Gayle?" He wasn't sure if he heard her correctly.

"Sir? More, please."

He shook his head, not wanting to push her too far, but also curious how much she could take. He took off her blindfold and waited patiently for her to open her eyes so she could look at him, though she indeed had trouble focusing. He let go of her to see if she could still hold her own.

"Little dove, I am so proud of you. But I don't want to push you too far, either."

She nodded. "I know," she muttered, trying to find her voice. "It was ... I liked it. I want more ..."

"I don't know." He wanted to object further, but the look in her eyes was slowly eroding his resolve. "Were you close to coming?"

"No, not after ... No."

"Which did you like better? The first or the second toy?"

"The first one ... That one was ... better."

"Youliked the riding crop?"

Her eyes flew open. "Is that what that was?" She had finally found her voice and herself. "Damn."

He laughed, which made her smile. "If it's what you want. Can you take it harder?"

"No Sir. Just ... more."

He took her desires to heart. "Alright. Have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes. Yes. Oh, yes, Sir." She nodded as she spoke. "I'm sorry. I'll be more diligent."

He kept smiling. "You, my love, have more strength in you than I gave you credit for. Do you want the blindfold on again?"

"No Sir, if you don't want me to wear it."

"No, no, Gayle. You've taken your punishment well. I'm giving you the choice."

Do I? Do I really want to see, to watch? Will it feel different if I do watch? "No Sir. Please leave it off."

"Fine."

Stepping back, he looked over her face again and felt confident she knew what she wanted. But he had something in mind he didn't think she'd expect. Her ass was already reddened nicely, so he didn't want to cause any pain there.

Picking up the tawse, he went to put it back, but she asked, "Sir? What is that?" When he told her what it was, she looked at it like it was a snake. "Um, I give that a seven out of ten."

He laughed. "And the riding crop?"

"Hmm. A seven and a half." She giggled then rolled her eyes.

Giving her a quick kiss, "You do make me laugh."

"I like making you laugh, Sir."

"Don't stop."

A minute later, he was standing in front of her holding the riding crop, though not threateningly. "Gayle, I'm going to use this on your breasts. Are you ready?"

She nodded. "Yes Sir."

"Good girl."

Stepping back the length of the crop, he lightly tapped the top of her breast then the other, watching her facial expression. She took in a sharp breath, but that was all to indicate any pain she couldn't handle. He slapped each again, over and over until her mouth hung open, and her breathing was a little heavy. Her breasts were a pretty pink, just as her ass was.

Trailing the edge of the leather pad down between her breasts to her belly button, he suddenly patted her nipple. She gasped loudly and wiggled her torso, but the fact it perked right up, he knew she could take more.

TAP!

SLAP!

TAP!

"Hmmgh ..." she moaned from the back of her throat.

He kept it up until her moans and grunts filled the room, but she was pulling back away from him, her body not begging for more, and her face turned a bright red, which wasn't a good sign. She was done. That he knew. But what if ...

Bringing the leather pad away, he slapped the inside of her thigh then the other. She gasped again, closed her eyes and began to pant, not from the pain, but because she was afraid where the next strike would be. And she was right. The pad landed flat over her clit, and that time she cried out and tried to bring her knees together, though she couldn't.

"Gayle, what is your color?" he asked.

Purple. Orange. Chartreuse! "Green, Sir."

"Good."

He then struck the inside of her thighs, but this time increased the strength just a little. Her reaction was the same, so he again struck her clit with one swift 'thwap.'

"Aaaggghhh," she muttered and again tried to bring her knees together. "Yellow. Yellow."

Pleased that she had spoken up for herself, he got down on his knees. "Keep your eyes closed, Gayle. This won't hurt a bit."

"Sir?! No! Please! I can't ta – ooohhhhh."

He silenced her when he parted her labia and dove onto her clit, nibbling and suckling on it to hopefully take the sting down. He reveled in hearing her groaning and the gyration of her hips, telling him it was exactly what she needed. Keeping his fingers away from her pussy, she licked and flicked his tongue over the hardened nub until she was screaming.

Taking a quick second to tell her she could come when she wanted, he took her clit between his teeth, bit down slightly and pulled, though not hard or far. Staying glued onto it, he suckled until she screamed out, "Ohhh, fuuuuck!"

Hamish never let up, even though the noise of the chains drowned out Gayle's cries of pleasure, and he could see her legs shaking as the violent, strong orgasm shot through her.

She felt like her brain was boiling over inside her skull as she came, every muscle seizing angrily. Holding onto the chain above her head, she fought it as if that would disengage Hamish's lips from her pussy. As her climax drained away, her clit began super sensitive and could no longer take any touch.

"Sirsirsir ... No. No! Enough!" she hollered out, though she wasn't in pain.

With one final lick, he massaged her thighs and looked up at her with a smile. She was smiling right back down at him, and for a second they connected in a way they hadn't before.

"Sorry. Sorry," she panted. "It's just –"

"Shh," he cooed. "I'm going to free your ankles. You'll want to bring them together slowly."

She nodded and watched him do so, all the while trying to catch her raspy, fast breath. Smacking her thighs, she carefully brought her feet together, grunting and groaning the entire time.

Standing, he asked, "Now, the tricky part. How are your legs holding up?"

"Fine," she grumbled, and her voice was distant; at least he thought so.

Pressing his chest against her breasts, her nipples still perky, he smiled at her as he unhooked her wrists. She tried to bring them down, but he held onto her hands. "No. Let me. You don't want your arm muscles to tighten up too much."

Planting her feet firmly to the floor, she allowed him to bring her arms down, and she grunted until they were at her sides. Before she could move, he slipped his arm around her waist and helped her to the couch. After she sat down, he sat down beside her with his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. She rested her head on his shoulder and held onto him for dear life.