The Soprano Ch. 03

He pocketed it, but he knew he wouldn't call.

-----

Claire watched the ground fall away outside the airplane window. Higher and higher she rose into the air, and she wondered if she could see her house. Then the airplane banked, and her town was out of sight, obscured by the plane's wing. She should really go home more often. Once a year just wasn't enough. She did miss her parents, even though she talked to them about once a week. When she was in college, she'd tried to come home every month if she could.

Her stomach jittered as her mind turned to thoughts of home. Home wasn't really here anymore, was it? Home was in a new city, a new apartment. Sebastien. In just a few short hours she would be with him again. Okay, so, they'd only been apart for a couple of days. It wasn't that big of a deal. Of course...it still felt like a pretty big deal every time she saw him.

As soon as she was off the plane, she headed for the bathroom to freshen up a bit. She splashed water on her face and ran her fingers through her hair. The skirt of her black knit dress swirled around her knees. Still cute, she thought.

Claire wheeled her overnight bag outside and looked around for Sebastien's town car. She spotted it right away; Sebastien was leaning casually against it, his eyes already on her. He didn't look very happy to see her, she noticed. Her heart began hammering in her chest and she suddenly felt very nervous. She approached him slowly and Tom appeared from nowhere, taking her bag and putting it away in the trunk.

"Good evening, Maestro," she said softly.

"Claire," he responded in a low voice. Oh, he sounded very displeased indeed. A shiver ran through her. Was he playing, or was he really mad?

"Is, um, is something the matter?"

"You tell me." Uh-oh. Had she done something? What could he possibly be irritated about?

"I-I-I don't know, Maestro. I just got home."

"On your knees, Claire," he said softly, in a commanding voice. She looked about, suddenly panicking a little. People were milling about everywhere.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sebastien's eyes narrowed and he stepped right up to her, his body touching hers in a long, hot line.

"This is exactly what I am talking about. Your disobedient attitude, your constant questioning of my orders, your attempts to be in control. You have lost your mind, my dear girl, if you think I will let this go without correction."

Claire swallowed hard, her mind racing. What on earth was he talking about? I mean, sure, there had been the morning of his birthday...and the evening of his birthday...and the decision to direct the cab driver to her apartment after the opera...and possibly half a dozen not-quite-submissive decisions she'd made since then. Oh, he was right. She'd been a bad, bad girl. She looked around again; no one was paying the slightest bit of attention to them.

Before she could lose her nerve, she dropped to her knees right there on the sidewalk. She kept her head down, though; she wasn't quite brave enough to look at him. She had to pretend she was looking for something on the ground, and she hoped it was enough to show him that she understood. Sure, she'd had a lot of fun with some of the things she'd done, but she really didn't want to change the whole dynamic of their relationship. It was sexy and exciting and wonderful.

All at once, she found that tears were welling up in her eyes. She hadn't ruined everything, had she? The first droplets had just fallen onto Sebastien's shiny shoe when he knelt down and took her into his arms.

"Maestro, I-I-I'm so s-sorry," she stammered, trying not to sob. "Y-you're right, I haven't b-b-been keeping up my end of the agreement. Please, I hope you'll forgive me." Sebastien drew her up until they were both standing and she wrapped her arms around him tightly, clinging to him for a moment. He stroked her hair, then wiped the tears from her eyes and kissed her gently.

"Mon abeille, I do forgive you. But of course you know an apology cannot be enough," he said firmly, opening the car door. A prickle ran up her spine as she finally slid into the back seat.

"But Maestro, what are you going to do to me?"

"An excellent question," he replied, a thin smile crossing his face.

-----

In the back seat of Sebastien's town car Claire was sitting very quietly, blinded behind a familiar piece of black silk. She felt him sitting there next to her, the warmth of his body telling her she was not alone, but he ignored her as completely as if she were not there at all. He chatted briefly with Tom, and then she heard him tapping away on his phone. It was somewhat upsetting, honestly. Here she was, newly home from a weekend away, and it was like he wasn't even interested in how she'd been or being together the way she had expected.

She thought about it, tried to discern whether it was turning her on the way it had done before when he ignored her. But she didn't feel very turned on. She just felt like...felt like...like she wanted to cry. Turning away toward the window she took a deep breath to try and keep from crying. The effort of suppressing her sobs sent a shudder running through her body.

That's when she finally felt it: Sebastien shifted in the seat beside her, slid his arm around her shoulders, and brought his lips to hers in a gentle touch. She brought her hands up to his chest, clutching his shirt between her fingers and kissing him back. He covered her fingers with his, gently loosening her grip and pulling away from her. He squeezed her shoulders gently, and she imagined he was looking at her very intently.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do." Claire was amazed at how quickly the answer came to her. "But..."

"Claire," he said firmly, "tonight there can be no 'but.' Tonight you will do as I say, and you will not question me."

"But...why?" She heard him sigh softly beside her, probably because she'd asked at all.

"Mon abeille, you are an amazing, beautiful woman. You bring me so much pleasure," he said in a low voice, trailing a finger down her cheek and making her shiver. "I want – I need – to show you off."

"Sh-show-show me off?" she repeated, swallowing nervously.

"The most fitting punishment, I think, for a girl constantly trying to top her Master," he said dryly. "If you disobey me tonight, the consequences will be serious. But if you behave yourself, you will be rewarded. Rewarded very well." He slid his hand between her legs, teasing her as he kissed her deeply. Her mind was racing; what was he thinking? Was he putting their relationship on a kind of public display?

She'd never really thought about it before, because they kept focusing on keeping it from people. Being able to be who they really were in front of people who, presumably, would understand and appreciate this side of them? The idea bloomed in her mind until she felt the first, faint prickles of excitement. Of course she might hate it...but she also might love it.

"Okay," she finally said. "But may I ask for one thing?"

"You may ask."

"Please...will you leave the blindfold on?"

"All night?" Claire thought about it for a long moment. Even if it turned out she loved it, wouldn't she lose her nerve if she saw someone watching?

"Until we're alone."

"Very well." The car began slowing to a stop and Claire wondered where they could be. Sebastien slid out of the car, and then the door beside her opened. Gentle hands guided her out of the car and into the street. It was very quiet, and she had no clues as to where they were. Sebastien bent down to kiss her softly before giving her final instructions.

"Two more things before we go in, mon abeille. If you must speak, you will refer to me as Master. I will trust you not to embarrass me by questioning me, but if you fail I will be forced to tape your mouth shut." Her heart was thudding thickly in her chest, but she nodded. "Good girl. I know you will make me proud."

She felt funny then, a strange pleasure creeping up in her and warring with the part of her that wanted to be insulted. What, was this some sort of competition? Where were they going? How had he set this up? It was all so strange and unexpected.

Sebastien led her onto the sidewalk. She felt a gust of warm air, and then she was being ushered inside. Soft thumping music was coming from somewhere, and she was definitely feeling nervous. Sebastien's soft, rhythmic strokes on her back calmed her a bit. He nudged her ahead of him around several corners and down a long corridor, finally halting her after a few moments.

She felt him kneeling down to remove her shoes, and then rough carpet beneath her bare feet. He was removing the rest of her clothes now, skimming down the surface of her skin with the pads of his fingers. He raised goose bumps everywhere he touched. Then she felt a strange new sensation – Sebastien was buckling something around her neck; something cold and a little rough. When he moved to her wrists, fastening something on each, she understood. A matching collar. Kinky.

He tugged her blindfold down just far enough that she could see his brown eyes looking steadily into hers. He looked serious, but she could sense the excitement in him.

"Are you ready?" he asked her in a low voice.

She lowered her eyes demurely and answered, "Yes, Master." She saw the corners of his eyes crinkle up as he smiled, and then he refastened the blindfold even more tightly than before.

"Remember what to do if you have had enough," he said, drawing her wrists together behind her back and clipping them together. "Now, let us go downstairs and have some fun."

He led her very carefully down the stairs, going slowly so that she could feel for each step before moving forward. Eventually they stopped, but she had no sense whatsoever of the room they were in. The music hadn't gotten any louder, but she could still hear it. It was warm, but not hot. There seemed to be other people in the room, but Claire couldn't be sure because they weren't talking. There was only a soft murmuring sound. Sebastien unclipped her wrists.

"On your knees," he said firmly. Claire dropped down, feeling the carpet scratching lightly against her knees. She sat back on her ankles, palms flat on her thighs to keep herself upright. For a long moment Sebastien said nothing further, and Claire was left to wait silently, and to think. She was nervous, maybe, but was there a reason to be? She could stop things at any time or, if it wasn't enough, she could always defy him and know there would be more later.

Strangely, though, defying him wasn't something that sounded interesting tonight. She actually wanted to prove – to herself, to him, to everyone – that she could obey him. Whatever he asked tonight, she wanted to do it.

"Come," he commanded, sounding as though he might be across the room. She hesitated, just starting to push herself up to standing when he spoke again. "On your knees."

She dropped back down then, feeling the short fibers of the carpet underneath her hands and her breasts pointing down toward the floor. It was very exposed as she imagined every eye on her, watching to see what she would do. She crawled forward, rolling her hips from side to side as she crossed the room on her hands and knees.

At last her hand bumped against the smooth toe of a shoe, which Claire knew must be Sebastien's. She sat back on her ankles and waited. After a minute of stillness, she felt Sebastien's hand gently on the back of her head.

"Good. Now bend over, forehead to the floor." She did, feeling her hips rise into the air as she dropped her forehead down against the carpet. Sebastien nudged her knees apart with his shoe, and then she waited again.

A gentle tapping came then. In the thrumming silence, each tiny slap felt magnified, until her skin was buzzing with sensation. She had felt this before a few times – the lighter, gentler slapping sensations of his riding crop. It was a thin, flexible rod with a flat leather flap about the size of a silver dollar. She supposed, given the sort of stuff she'd read about, she should be lucky he wasn't fitting her with a horsehair tail and parading her around the room.

He tapped her firmer, faster, all over her buttocks and between her legs. She trembled, feeling the wetness growing, just beginning to slide down her inner thighs.

When she started moving her hips up to meet the strokes of his crop, he switched out for something a bit more painful. The Stinger. It was her favorite, and no matter how many times he used it on her, it still lit up her whole body with electric pleasure. With the first stroke, she cried out softly and Sebastien commanded her to be silent.

Again and again the leather tendrils flickered over her tender flesh, stinging her with their delicious bite. He moved away from her buttocks, striking more softly up her back and then harder again down the backs of her thighs. She bit the inside of her lips to keep from making noises as he returned to her buttocks ever more fiercely.

She was tingling ferociously all over when he finally stopped. Then it was the paddle, and she was fighting to keep her hands from sliding forward on the thin carpet. It hurt. She was very aware of the growing aches on her backside, her slick center. If she wasn't sore the next day it would be a damned miracle. When again she lost the battle to keep silent, Sebastien set aside the paddle, kneeling to run his hands over her reddened skin. Was he done? She wanted – no, she needed – so much more.

"Up," he ordered, and she moved to sit back on her ankles. Her knees were starting to ache, and she hoped she would get some relief soon. "Up, up, up," he said, smacking her lightly with the riding crop. She scrambled to her feet, feeling herself wobbling slightly. She felt the swirling energy of him stalking around her, perhaps inspecting her. She struggled to keep her head up, facing firmly forward.

"Arms behind you." Claire hastened to comply, folding her arms behind her and grasping her wrists. Working quickly, he fed rope through her wrist restraints, looping it around her torso, between and underneath her breasts. He tightened the rope, drawing her wrists farther up toward her shoulder blades, making her shoulders ache with the new tension.

"Come," he said again, pulling the rope through the ring on her collar and tugging on it gently like a leash. She followed him, feeling the moisture on her inner thighs as she walked. He stopped, taking her shoulders and turning her, backing her into a sturdy wooden structure. He pushed her legs apart by nudging her ankles, leaning her back to be balanced as he tied the rope tightly to the structure, around her legs, around her torso. She pulled lightly against the ropes, finding she was completely, totally bound. Panic rose in her throat, but arousal bloomed in her and blew the panic clear away.

The tapping returned in a t-shaped formation as Sebastien used the riding crop lightly on her breasts, her belly, down to her trimmed mound and inner thighs. The slaps that came to her nipples particularly stung, and soon they grew hard, aching. It seemed the entire flesh of her breasts had drawn up and forward, so stiff and sensitive. Sebastien had stopped momentarily, and then she felt a firm pinching sensation on one nipple and then the other as he applied some kind of gentle clamps to them.

Claire writhed with the new sensations, as well as she could in her bonds, and no less when Sebastien picked up the riding crop again, striking her more firmly. The tingling on her backside was finally starting to fade when it began along her front. Then something new. She felt the harsh, stinging strikes of the Stinger, but the riding crop did not let up. The Stinger roamed her body, lighting up her skin. But the riding crop kept up a firm rhythm between her legs, occasionally coming up to give a slap to her nipples with its now-damp leather.

At once the pleasure began mounting in her, the tension growing so exquisitely that she just wanted it to wash over her and carry her away. But then a small thought worried at her: did she need his permission? He hadn't commanded her to ask permission to come, but he seemed to get so much pleasure from making her wait. She tried to speak, had to clear her throat before she could.

"Master?" she asked in a slightly scratchy voice.

"Yes?" Sebastien asked quietly in return. The smacking didn't let up and she struggled to speak.

"May I...may I come, Master? Please?" He didn't answer her for a moment, and Claire knew he must have been savoring the knowledge that she was on the edge of orgasm. She whimpered helplessly from the pain in her breasts and the pleasure between her legs.

"What a good girl you are to ask," he murmured, clearly amused. "Yes, you may come. Whenever you like, adoree." He had hardly finished speaking when her body began to tremble all over with the release of tension as she came, fists clenching and toes curling. One wave of pleasure rushed over her, then another, and she heard herself crying out, louder than she'd intended. When she finally came down, she noticed that he'd stopped striking her.

Sebastien pulled the clamps off of her nipples and untied her then, pulling her arms away from her back and rubbing them gently. Unfortunately it hadn't happened quickly enough. A stinging, prickling sensation spread down her arms and her body jerked. Sebastien quickly lifted her and placed her on a bench or table of some kind, rubbing his hands down her arms to abate the sensation, but it didn't really help. Then a soft buzzing sounded, and almost before she realized what was happening her body was jolting with the impact of another orgasm as he applied a vibrator to her. Tears slipped out, soaking the blindfold as she felt the intense sensations.

Then nothing. The vibrations stopped; the pins and needles in her arms stopped. There was nothing she could hear, no shadows moving behind her blindfold; she could not even smell Sebastien's sweet cologne. She only knew that she was alive, awake, lying on her back with her legs falling on either side of a bench as she relearned how to breathe. Eventually, she started to get uneasy.

"Master?" she asked quietly. A hand crept over her belly then, but before she could even feel nervous her cheek was being softly kissed by a man who smelled like Sebastien.

"Yes, mon abeille, I am here." he breathed into her ear. He stroked her belly with his fingertips and she felt her arousal curled up deep within her, quieter now. "Are you ready for more?"

"Yes, Master. Whatever you want," she heard herself say. She knew then she had gone somewhere else entirely. Her body and mind were pliant, waiting for Sebastien's next move. She loved him, she trusted him, and perhaps stranger than that, she was having fun.

Sebastien helped her to stand, refastening the ropes around her torso but leaving her arms free. She heard what sounded like chains rattling nearby, but she didn't really care. Rope was looped around her upper arms and shoulders, and her wrists were lifted as she was tied to something above her. She felt more rope – and something that felt like straps – tied around her upper thighs and the backs of her knees.

Then one leg at a time was lifted and tied above her head. So she swung free, her arms and legs suspended in mid-air, and she suddenly felt very exposed. Someone slid in between her legs, running their heads over her naked skin and all that rope.

"Are you in pain at all?" Sebastien asked very quietly. There was certainly some pressure – under her shoulders and knees especially – but no pain. Even the pressure lessened as Sebastien held her hips up, supporting some of her weight.

"No, Master. No pain. Just very...aware." He leaned into her, kissing her softly, and she felt the fabric of his clothes against her inner thighs and breasts. She also felt his cock, hot and very hard, pressing against her. Without warning he slid it inside her, swallowing her surprised moan in another kiss. In the position she was in, he felt huge inside her and so deep it was almost painful. But he moved slowly, gently, letting her get used to him.