Ioan Gruffudd Ch. 07

"So he can leave small welts?"

"Yes."

"Do you like blood drawn?"

"No."

"Do you like name calling?"

"No."

"Do you wish to be addressed by name or as slave?"

"Slave."

"Very good, he'll like that. And have you been trained before?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'll take that as a no. How did you know you were submissive then?"

I sighed. "A lover showed me."

"Ahh, so no professional training. Don't worry. Richard makes the perfect bottoms become the perfect tops. Do you need anything?"

This had to be the weirdest conversation of my life. She was so friendly. "No."

She left and the lights dimmed by an unseen hand. I was made to wait, resting my weight on the fuzzy towel and quivering in the cool air.

Suddenly another door opened and the heavy sound of footsteps coming down the stairs rang out.

"Now that is a sight for sore eyes." He was Scottish and his voice a deep bass rumble.

I couldn't see him no mater how I twisted my head and he didn't speak again until his voice was right behind me.

"Push you ass a little higher, luv."

The endearment was sweet; the tone was not. I did exactly as ordered.

"Close your eyes."

I did and felt him step to my side. "So you 'ave 'ad some training. Excellent."

Jars clanked and then he stepped behind me. All of a sudden a hard ice-cold phallus was slammed inside me. It was lubed up well but I was still unprepared. It sat inside for a moment, letting me adjust.

God it was huge and rock hard, and felt like pure ice. I whimpered.

"Silence, slave."

I shut up.

He grabbed my hair. "Such a beautiful color, such a perfect length." He wrapped it around his hand and pulled, lifting my head back. At the same time he pulled it out and sank back in.

I don't know what I expected but the fast furious fuck that followed wasn't it. It was good but this wasn't about talent. I tried to fight it, to gain a measure of power, but the brute strength did me in and I came. I made noises; I couldn't help it. And the second I came he pulled out to leave me contracting on empty space.

"You didn't have permission to come."

I swallowed and kept my eyes closed.

"Open your eyes," he said next to my head.

He was still oiled, still incredibly handsome, but the loincloth was gone. Instead he wore leather straps that made a cock ring and a ball harness, it kept his cock pointed outward for ease of use.

"Do not look me in the eyes but quit staring at my cock, slave." His voice was commanding but I think he was flattered.

I looked down and didn't apologize, afraid to speak.

"Tell me now, do you prefer the paddle, the cat, or the whip?"

I eyed them carefully.

"In my hands they are instruments of pleasure. I have a lot of experience, slave. Trust in me as I must trust in you."

"The paddle," I whispered.

He took it in his hands and fondled it suggestively. My eyes were locked to those strong hands as they cradled the leather wrapped paddle. And then he brought it to my shoulder and stroked it down my back.

It was cool and made me shiver.

The first hit was soft and brought my focus sharp. The second stung but felt good. The third hurt, but brought pleasure. And the fourth, the fifth, and the sixth. I lost count.

It stopped hurting and became pure pleasure. And just when I let a moan slip he stopped. He was panting and I was panting when he leaned down to my ear, his body covering mine.

"The submissive is in control. It's about you; your fantasy, your pleasure. I'm responsible for it. I have to trust you to tell me your limits. The only power I have is in denying you your pleasure. And deny it I will."

The paddle was set down and he pulled a leather collar from the table. Lifting my hair aside he wrapped it tight around me so a metal O ring was at my throat. Then I was unshackled and he put the leash on me.

I was shocked, scandalized, but the feeling was blunted. The roofie, I finally realized.

He led me to an X rack in the corner.

"Put your feet here," he ordered. I did and found my legs spread wide.

He tied my hands above my shoulders and secured my leash to the rack. Lastly he shackled my legs.

I kept my eyes low and watched him walk back to the table and pick something up from the tray. He walked back with the c-clamps.

He opened one up idly. "Do you know why the submissives must keep their eyes down? Because it's so easy to lose one's nerve in a staring contest. It can't be about feelings, it must only be about power and pleasure. It's for the peace of mind of the dominant."

He attached one clip to my left nipple and began tightening it, stopping only when I gasped. Then he attached the other until once again I gasped, feeling it straight down to my clit.

His silence spoke volumes as he produced the syringe with no needle. I quivered in anticipation as he brought it to my hips and with thick fingers spread my pussy open. He clamped it down on my cit and I gasped. Then he pulled the plunger back, sucking the little nubbin and I moaned.

"Be quiet, slave."

I bit my lip and felt my hips pump of their own volition. The pleasure and pain mingled mindlessly.

He leaned in close, his hot body almost covering mine, his breath on my ear. "I am watching your body very carefully, the flush on your chest, the quiver of your thighs. Your pleasure is all I want, your fulfillment all I control."

I knew he was teaching me by showing me and what an erotic bargain. When it was over, would he let me dominate him? I'd never had the urge but the thought made me moan. I saw his lips, his knowing smile.

"Silence, slave," he chastised. Punishment was the cat o' nine tails, and in his hands the pain was blunted, the pleasure sharp.

With the sucking pressure on the clit and the pinching on my nipples I was so close to orgasm. He pushed me and pushed me, massaging muscles, teasing flesh. I wasn't allowed to speak, to beg.

At last he walked away and stood at the table. I heard wet sucking sounds and knew he was lubing up. I watched his feet as he walked back and unlocked me.

Leading me by my leash he secured me to a plush bench. I was on my knees, my butt once more in the air. He checked the syringe and the clamps and then I felt a hot liquid on my ass. I whimpered and he spanked me.

I could only shudder on the verge.

He was huge and the progress was slow as he pushed into my ass. Larger than I'd had before I held my breath, not sure if I could take it. When he was halfway in he sank two meaty fingers in my pussy. "Come, now slave."

He moved in and out just twice and I came, sobbing and moaning. The second my brain burst into colors he sank all the way in and the pain was brief. He held me still, letting me adjust as he had with my pussy, and then began to move.

The torture of pleasure was just beginning.

He teased me for what felt like hours that way, pleasing me and punishing me. He made me love pain as I never had, made me hunger for approval, bent me completely to his will. All the while he showed me, taught me, made me memorize how to do this.

When he at long last made me come again it hurt. The pleasure was unimaginable but I didn't pass out. I knew I felt no fear because as the slave, I was actually in control.

And then he unlocked me, handed me the paddle, and let me dominate him.

Finished at last I had never felt so powerful. He left, limping slightly, happy with my tip, his kiss a little stronger than I would have thought. I had pleased him well and never felt better myself.

The woman returned to help me dress and I tipped her too, feeling flush and happy. Outside other patrons gathered to wait for friends. Helen and Danny were soon out looking just as I felt. Vital and flush.

We didn't speak, just left and I drove us to a small diner on the edge of town where we could be alone. We talked about publishing, set an interview date, and at long last Helen went to the bathroom. I asked Danny for help and to my surprise, he was more than willing. It was set.