The Garden Club Ch. 03

I wake early, stretching, I smile. It's just after 4:00 am. Will he arrive on time? I am sure he will be here. He can't stay away. I am anxious for him to be here, this is new. With Robb I am anticipatory, scared, and nervous; excited, angry and aggressive with the subs. But, this is different, I can't wait to see him, I moisten at the thought of him, not what I am going to do to him, simply him. For the first time I wonder if this is how Robb felt when he met me.

I know him, I know him well. I have lived in his skin. I know that dark place he is in. I hold it deep within, controlled, encased, chained by complete discipline and self control. Not fitting, not belonging, surrounded by beautiful perfect people, with beautiful perfect lives, scarred and ugly, carrying rage so close to the surface, it crawls just under your skin.

I pull on my sweats, sports bra and Nikes. I am waiting in the garden at exactly 5:00 am. Warren has not arrived. I am actually happy, I get to punish him. He is going to learn. He comes sauntering up the path, it is 5:07. "Warren,your late!" I sound angry, hell I am angry. Time is simple, your on time or your not. There is no grey area.

"Just a few minutes no biggie." His reply is snarky.

I slap him. "Late, is late. You will be punished after breakfast for both your tardiness and insolence. Can you run ten miles?"

His eyes are cast down and again his feet fidget. "Yes Laurel." well that's better he has got the hang of answering me.

"Take off your shirt, shoes and socks. Warren, unless your working in the garden I expect your feet and chest to be bare." He removes the items I requested without hesitation. "Warren, this is a run. I run in silence. I expect you to do the same. Match my pace and stay beside me."

I start at an easy jog to warm up. Then I run hard. I push my own endurance. He is breathing hard. As we cross the eight mile mark I let up. He won't make it if I don't. I have never shared my run. Whatever possessed me yesterday, I still don't understand. Normally, I simply would have ordered exercise and assigned a trainer. I ordered him to run with me and not just today but every week day.

Our run ends at the kitchen garden. "Warren, Josh and Gideon are in the kitchen. Izzy has breakfast laid out. Go in and eat. I will be there in an hour. Wait for me."

I head to the gazebo at a jog. Izzy is walking down the opposite path carrying our breakfast. I open the covered bowl, I was right my favorite. Steel cut oats and mincemeat compote. Izzy goes over my correspondence, my calls and finally my appointments. Crap I have a 1:00 lunch with Mason Hallay. Well, Que sera sera. There is nothing that can't wait till after lunch. Perfect. Just perfect, punish Warren, then face his older brother Mason. I am one fucked up chick, as Izzy would say. But then she would laugh and hug me.

Warren is perched on one of the stool around the breakfast bar. He is talking sports with Josh and Gideon. When I clear my throat, all three mens heads snap to look at me. "Warren, follow me." I lead him up the stairs to my suite. My seven rooms make up half of the third floor. Two bedrooms, two baths, my closet, den, and playroom.

I lead him first into my subs bedroom. It is small, white, almost sterile. There is a bed, a desk and chair, a wardrobe and a dresser. "When your here at the house. This is your room. There is a computer which is for your use."

The bathroom is attached. He spends a great deal of time just staring at all the different hoses, fountains and spigots. This room is completely marble, everything that can be damaged by water is behind a sealed door.

The tub is sunken into the floor. The shower is attached three steps up. It is an open platform with several benches. "Warren, this room is part of our play area. I don't want to scare you. The only thing you need to know for now is that I like water. I like playing with it."

It's time, time for him to see what he has really gotten himself into. He follows me back out into the hall. I stop in front of my play room door. "Warren, when we go in to this room you are probably going to be shocked. I am going to punish you for this mornings errors. Do you understand me?"

"Yes Laurel." he takes a deep breath.

I punch in the keycode and open the door. I hear his sharp intake of breath. Most doms prefer goth and mid evil themes, it is just not me. The wood in this room is light maple, the leather navy blue, and the rest is shades of pink.

The walls are decorated with the implements of the trade. The paddles hang from pink and navy ribbons. The canes lay across porcelain pegs, each with a hand painted rose. A trellis decorates one of the walls, from it hangs all methods of restraint.

There are display cases on the opposed wall, the glass shelves display an array of toys. It's contents are dark, forbidden, taboo.

I point at the tall, wide bench "Warren, go lean over that bench. I am going to gather the supplies we need." He is moving to the bench, without hesitation, I smile. "I am going to punish you. This is going to be exceedingly painful. I expect you to take your punishment. You have broken a rule and been disrespectful. You know the safe words. This is your first real punishment, I will be disappointed if you choose to use them."

He is leaning over the bench, resting his upper body on his elbows. I walk in front of him. First I hold up a two inch wide black leather strap. "Warren, look at me." His eyes meet mine. His face is turbulent. "Warren, you were late, seven minutes late to be exact. I am going to strike you with this belt. Once for each minute you were late." Then I hold up a large oval flat leather paddle. "You were insolent and snarky when corrected. I am going to strike you ten times with this paddle for that." Last I hold up a pair of leather cuffs. There is no explanation needed.

I secure first one wrist then the other. I pull his arms taunt to the legs of the bench securing them spread. It pulls him up onto his tip toes. He cannot lift his chest off the bench, his legs although extended are not restrained. I want him to get used to restraint. He is letting his head hang.

"Warren, I told you to look at me." His eyes come back up too meet mine. "When I finish, I am going to release your wrists. I am not going to speak to you or comfort you. I am going to leave and lock you in this room. I will be back at exactly 12:00. During that time. I expect you to look at every thing in this room. It was purchased specifically for you. Any item you object to is to be placed in the box next to the door. When I return I expect to find you kneeling next to the box completely naked. Do you understand?"

He is pulling at his restraint. "Yes ma'am" I slap his face. "Ma'am is not any more acceptable, than mistress is. Do you understand?"

"Yes Laurel."

I jerk his sweats down to his knees. His briefs are next. I pull them down, so his entire package is exposed. The band running right under his balls and framing the lower edge of his cheeks. I could have been gentle, but there is a point to punishment. It is not the simple pain that changes behavior. It is the whole process. The humiliation, the lack of control, the vulnerability. I stand there ready. I am watching him. I am letting his state settle in. I see the faint color blush over him. He flexes his butt, and pushes up on the balls of his feet.

I swing, it is hard, the sound reverberates against the walls as the belt meets his rising ass. I hear the air rush from his body. Before he can recover I bring the second blow crashing down. A sharp cry escapes. The third comes up catching right above the waist band of his briefs. Again he cries out. He can't keep still and I won't make him. He will learn in time. His ass, sways just as I bring the fourth strike down, it cuts a diagonal across the other red welts. He is gasping for air. Tears are streaming down his face. The last three swings are fast. His mouth is open in a scream but no sound is coming out. I lay the used belt across his shoulders.

I pick up the paddle, I place my hand in the small of his back. I wait, I let him catch his breath, now he is sobbing audibly. This will be easier for him with me holding him still. He has done very well, I am pleased. But he will know I mean what I say, and every error earns its own punishment. Each time this paddle lands it will intensify the heat, and make each little purple line left by the edge of the belt sing. I bring the ten blows down in less than thirty seconds. Again he can't catch his breath. I drop the paddle, free his wrists, and leave, closing the door behind me. He will need this time, he needs to reconcile this within himself. He needs time to process what happened to him.

I head into my closet. I turn on the two way mirror. He is standing, the belt in his hand, he running his fingers over it. Tears still run free down his face. I turn off the mirror and grant him his privacy. Now to get ready for lunch.

First my shower, my bathroom is exactly the same as the one off the other bedroom. I need to take care of this wet achy need. It's making me edgy. The last thing I need is to be edgy, when I see Mason. Crap, what am I going to say to him. I close my eyes, letting the memory of punishing Warren and the water take me.

I look in the mirror, thank-you Janie. I have on a perfectly fitted cream shift dress, it stops at my trade mark mid thigh. A pink cropped jacket, it shows off my long thin torso. Five inch cream stiletto pumps. My wedding pearls hang around my neck and wrists and dangle from my ears. I hit the call button on my phone, Izzy picks up on the first ring. "Izzy, please send Miss Janie a dozen roses from our green house. And have Josh pull Robb's Jag around". I can almost feel her mouth hanging open. I look at the clock it is 11:55. I flip on the mirror. Warren is kneeling, his knees spread, hands resting on his thighs, eyes gazing at the floor.

I open the door at exactly noon. Warren jumps, but recovers quickly. I open the box next to him, the only item in the box are the canes. I take a seat on the small couch, and pat the place next to me "Warren, please join me." He needs to stretch as he rises. He must have waited in position for a long time. He is moving slowly, each step clearly painful. When he sits next to me he can't keep the grimace off his face.

"Warren, did you look at everything in this room?" My voice is sterner than I intended.

"Yes Laurel." He still hasn't found a comfortable position.

"Is there anything in here you want to know more about?" I hold my tone, I can loosen up later. The balance between enforcement, punishment and experience is fluid, dynamic over time.

"No Laurel." Is voice is monotone. His fingers fidget.

"Do you know what every thing you looked at is and how it is used?"

"No Laurel." His voice is softer, embarrassed, a flush passes over his skin.

"Why don't you want to ask about those things, before you decide if they should be in this room?" The desire to understand evident in my voice.

"I don't need to know. After what I let you do to me today, I realized If you want to do it to me, I am going to let you. There is no need for me to know." He sighs deeply. I smile, he is overwhelmed with trying to control himself and the world around him. He's starting to let go.

"Then why are the canes in there?"

"I saw a documentary on Chinese prisons. The flesh was ripped open. I don't want that to happen to me. It scares me. Do you want me to put them back?" He is looking at his fingers

"No, I do not want you to put them back. They will be removed. You will be given the opportunity to remove things or bring things back again in six months. I am going out. You are to go to your room. I want you to soak in the tub that is prepared for you. Shower, then you are to lay face down on your bed naked. Pull just the white sheet up over you.

"Izzy will tend to your butt." I see him tense and shudder "Do not argue with her. Do everything she says. She will not touch you in a sexual way, she will simply be caring for you at my direction. You may as well get used to her ministering to the after effects of life with me, right now. Then I want you to take a nap. If you wake do not leave this area. Otherwise, I will wake you when I return. Do you understand?"

"Yes Laurel." He is visibly tense. It will fade in the tub.

"Not doing exactly as you have been told will result in further punishment." I hear his sharp intake of breath.

Robb's Jag. It is his car, he loves to take it out on the coast and run it wide open. Mason will notice. He knows, I don't drive that car. I am working my pearls between my lips, sucking them. I feel like I am wrapping Robb around me as a shield.

I pull up in front of the taco stand. It is 12:58. Mason loves this place. I grab a table. There are only three and one has seen better days. It's just off some obscure pier, behind a bait shop. I will admit the food is amazing. It's 12:03 I am tapping the face of my watch, it is an anxious habit when any thing is behind schedule. My subs know it means they are late. I don't do late.

"I turned in my log book long ago Laurel. I may take the opportunity to play now and again. But I do not follow your rules." His voice is deep and commanding. We order food at the window and sit down. The view here is beautiful.

"So, you bought my design time? Izzy said you have a project in mind?" I am blushing.

"Yes, actually I do. I donated my time, materials and services to a Boys and Girls club, that deserves a new facility. I want you to design the grounds. I am going to look at the property next week. I'd like you to come with me." His voice sounds all business. But my body is on high alert. Do I want to be alone with this man?

"Where is the lucky boys and girls club?" I try to sound bored. I remember last year he redid a Ronald McDonald house. It was amazing. The medical amenities, a game room, a theater, and a bowling lane, then the play ground ground wow. He even built a real tree house. If he is really doing this I want to be on board.

"A suburb of Detroit. Royal Oak I think. So are you interested?" He seems sincere. Does he know? Damnit, he wants me to go back. Go home to the boys and girls club where I volunteered. To the place where I should have been receiving services, but was giving them instead. I haven't been home since I was sixteen. I left for Harvard and I haven't gone back. Just Damnit!

"I'll have to check my schedule. But, if you could arrange the trip for mid week before the fourth, I'll be headed to Michigan anyway, were spending the fourth on Mackinac Island. I can fly a few days early and get the project started with you." I pulled it off my answer was right on.

"I should be able to do that. It's just a week later than originally planned. You sure you're good with this project. I have other projects." He smirks, his shoulders relax, his body screams cocky. Crap, he knows.

"Yes I'm sure" my voice is much steadier than I feel.

"Now, that we're done with business. Who the hell did you let put those marks on you?" His voice is stern commanding. Automatically my eyes drop. I blush. Now he hisses "If you don't want a repeat of the Boathouse right here you will answer me." He slams his hand down on the table for emphasis.

I jump, but I answer "Robb" It's too soft, too breathy, lost.

"No wonder you brought his fucking car, did you have his permission to screw me, did you need it?" He draws his hand through his hair and over his face "Shit!" then slams it into the table again. "I will see you in Detroit." He leaves abruptly.

Home, Warren is waiting. I get in the car. I am on the coast highway when it hits me. Robb, Forested Lumber, with the size log homes Mason is building, if Robb got pissed he'd be screwed. No wonder he's so upset.

Warren isn't in his room, I check his bathroom, not there. I go to the playroom. He is kneeling on the small sofa, he has the belt in his hand, he is running his fingers over it. I lean against the door and just watch him till he looks up. I smile, "What are you thinking about Warren?"

He blushes and looks down "you"

"Warren, can I touch your face and the rest of your head without it bothering you?" I ask softly. I haven't moved. I want him to feel some control.

"Yes Laurel." his voice timid.

"Then, I am going to sit on the long couch, I want you to lay on your back with your head in my lap while we talk. Can you do that?" My voice is soothing almost cajoling in tone.

"Yes Laurel." the stress in his voice is evident. He is afraid. But we will get through this.

I start by just running my nails through his hair lightly over his scalp. "So, what were you thinking about when I came in? Remember, I expect honest and anything less is punishable."

His voice starts out hesitant "I was thinking about you. I was thinking about how in control you are. How out of control I am. How all I want to know is did I make you happy. How I want you to do things to me. I want you to be pleased with me." He is blushing and quiet before he finishes.

"What happens to your body when you think about what I did to you?" I know what I hope is going on.

"My cock gets hard and all I can think about is you. I want you to touch me so bad it almost drives me mad." His fingers are moving again. That is a behavior we will soon be addressing.

"Warren, you did really well today. I am pleased with the way you submitted. If you want me to take care of your cock, it will cost you. Taking punishment well doesn't earn a reward, you earned the punishment. If you want a reward you'll have to earn that too. So, it's up to you." My voice is soft pleasant matter of fact.

"How do I earn it?" He is anxious and quiet.

"I want to play with your nipples and the area around them. I'll set a timer if you can tolerate five minutes. I will suck you off. Are you interested?" He can barely tolerate me brushing against him. My fingers actively exploring will be torturous. I want to know what touch actually drives the fear.

"Yes Laurel." His voice solid and clear, his face tense.

I retrieve the timer. I start the sand flowing. Instead of sitting back down I straddle him. I capture his now fully erect penis between us. I reach up and run a nail around the edge of his areola. It rocks me across him. I play at first one and then the other nipple. He is pushing up against me. God, this is excruciating. Why the fuck does Warren Hallay have to be a virgin. I don't even do it purposely, but at just over four minutes the edge of one my nails scratches. He screams, it is raw, torn from his body, wretched from his soul. None of his cries earlier were as pained.

Then he gasps "red"

"Dress and go home. Do not masturbate. You will get your log tomorrow. I will see you at five." I sound angry. It's not the tone I meant to use. I am so hot and wet I want to throw him down, and fuck him. Ride him until he can't move, grinding his red raw ass into the floor. It's not time. He needs to learn control. So, I need to exhibit some myself. I head for the kitchen I need to talk to Izzy.

Izzy is just finishing cooking dinner, when I walk in. I know I look disheveled, a rarity when Robb's not home. I feel out of control, spinning. I want Robb; I need Robb. He's been so preoccupied. There is a lot going on and I know he has a new female sub he's playing with.

He won't tell me, he knows I get jealous. I know it seems odd, I have subs, and I am jealous of his. But, I belong to Robb, I hate his girl toys. If it were a male he would have told me. I would be fine. It's why I know he would be furious if he knew what Mason did to me. I belong to Robb. I am moody and petulant.

Josh and Gideon come in through the mud room they are having a loud discussion. I laugh, they are like having brothers. Josh runs my security detail and manages the cars. Of the two I would say managing my security is the tougher job. Gideon is head of grounds and maintenance. I manage all the design and construction. He keeps my vision neatly in focus. Izzy, technically she is my assistant. The reality is, she is my lifeline, and I am hers.