Tuesday Ch. 02

You drop to your knees clumsily. The shoes make the move difficult and your knee thunks off the floor painfully.

It doesn't matter. You just lean forward and wrap your arms around his legs and press your face against the smooth fabric of his jeans. He stands stock still for you, either watching intently or confused and just waiting for whatever you're going to do next.

You try to tell him what you need. You really do. But the words won't come out. You don't know if its shame or fear or you're just really afraid to push past this one line for the one thing that you really want but are afraid to ask for.

Will he even understand what you are asking him for?

'Please sir...' You start again and then trail off. You gently bang your head on his leg in frustration.

He kneels then, because it's apparently his turn to surprise you. He drops gently to one knee and pulls your head to his chest and whispers the most comforting words you think that you may have ever heard.

'Just say it Ari. It's ok. I'm gonna understand.'

You inhale a deep breath and hold it. You want to say it. You do. It's just hard.

'Let it out.' He whispers it into your ear.

This is absurd. You're here. He's here. You trust him. You let him do things to you that you hadn't even imagined. He terrifies you and you adore him at the same time.

If there is any one person on this fucking planet that understands what you want and will give it to you, it has to be him.

'NGGGH!' Is all that you can force out from between clenched teeth. The words won't come out. Why are you such a coward?

And then he does the one thing that frees you from this mental paralysis. His hand slides across your chest and locks onto the ring hanging from your collar. The other one grips your chin and he forces you to look up at him. You expect the eyes to be gray and hard but they aren't. They're wide and blue and locked onto your face.

'Tell me. Now.' He commands you.

The words smash through the last of the barrier and connect with you. He's the master, you're his property. You will follow his orders now.

'Beg.' The word is tiny, almost inaudible as it springs from your lips.

'Say it louder girl. I want to hear you say it.' He demands of you.

You rest your head against his leg and hate him and adore him for this at the same time. This is so agonizing for you to admit.

'Please make me beg sir. Please!'

'Beg for what?'

Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod.

'Please make me beg... beg to... beg to come.' You finally manage to force it from you.

He chuckles at you. You look up at him. What did you just do?

'I know it seems like I'm begging already...' Heat radiates from your face. A heightened sense of embarrassment surges through you. It's a little hard to comprehend considering everything that he has already done to you tonight, and those other nights.

And on film even. God, you can't believe that he filmed you sometimes.

Strong fingers wrap around the ring on your collar and he forces you to your feet. You look up at him with trepidation. His eyes are wild and intense and you can practically see him plot evil things for you.

It makes you smile.

'Do you really want me to make you beg to come girl?' He says in a completely calm but utterly intimidating tone.

'Yes. Yes sir.' You warble in response. That probably would have sounded better if your voice hadn't cracked as you said it.

'All right, follow me then.' He orders you dispassionately, but the fingers hooked around your collar give you little choice. He hauls you into the maze of cruel devices that clutter up this back area until he brings you to... a... something. You don't know what it is.

It looks like a chunk of wood suspended on metal legs with manacles and chains attached to it.

Your wrists slide into manacles and then he draws them tightly behind the wood and secures them. Steel rings fit snugly around your wrists as he binds you tightly to the wood and steel frame. His hands are hot on your skin as he locks the metal and your flesh in place.

You feel that surge of excitement ripple up and down your spine. It bounces between your brain and your sex and it's all you can do not to squirm and buck against him.

'That's not too tight is it?' He asks you quietly.

'No sir. It's fine.' You answer him quickly. Although part of you wishes that he would make the bindings just a bit tighter, leave you even more vulnerable.

He gives you an odd look, then steps behind the rig you're secured to. He pulls a lever, and the chains pull you back hard against the hard, cool wood. He cranks it again and you squeak as your arms are drawn back farther and you're forced to jut your chest out.

'Better?' He asks again.

You turn your head and it hits you like a wave. He's right there, contorting your body with steel and wood and preparing you for something insidious yet again. You smell leather and whiskey and his scent directly next to you and it's all you can do not to coo at him.

'Better. Much better sir.' You manage to say in between shuddering breaths.

He smiles and trails his fingers across your shoulder and then it glides down your ribcage and torso. Hot skin cups and squeezes your breast and two nimble fingers pluck at your nipple. You squirm as he casually teases your sensitive flesh. Your thighs press together as you involuntarily stand on your toes and thrust your hips out involuntarily.

'Is this making you aroused Tuesday?' He whispers in your ear, his fingers still tweaking and plucking at the erect little bud of flesh on your breast.

'I just... I... oh sir...' You stammer at him.

'I'll take that as a yes then.' He says with a grin.

He releases your nipple and a moment later you feel him gripping your ankle and drawing it back against the steel legs. Another metal bracelet locks around your slender limb, and its cousin secures your other ankle a moment later. The chain draws tight and your feet are drawn back. The unforgiving chain pins your legs against the cold steel of the device you're bound to and your thighs are forced wide apart.

You can feel yourself opening wide like a flower. You quiver at the thought of how exposed and how helpless you are. And then you remember that you're here because you asked him to force you to beg.

Not for the first time you wonder if maybe you have bitten off more than you can chew here.

Of course as he strolls back into your visual range from behind you after he finishes securing the chains holding your legs open, those thoughts melt away. He looks at you with a hint of disdain and a cruel smile and you can't suppress a tiny whimper.

You're not afraid. You never have been with him. He just seems to know you and what you need and really, desperately want. He's brutal and unforgiving with you and he does things to your body that make you cringe and yet make you more aroused than you thought possible.

And you trust him. Completely. You don't understand why he goes out of his way to do these things for you, but he has completely and utterly sated you at times. And he protects you for reasons that you do not understand. He doesn't send you home with bruises or welts or even a hickey. You never have to explain anything to anyone except for your absence.

He stands in front of you for a moment and stares at you intensely. One hand curls around your hip and you squirm a little bit as his fingers creep up your side and tickle your ribs ever so slightly.

He watches your reaction to his touch, smirks, and then steps forward until he's practically pressing against you. He leans down to your face and whispers in your ear as his hands find your breasts and grope, massage and squeeze the sensitive tissue.

'So you want me to make you beg, hmmmm Tuesday?'

'Yessssssss.' Is all you can manage to respond. Just his presence this close to you while you are restrained like this is pushing you over the edge.

'Are you sure girl? You've already had kind of an intense evening.'

'Yes sir. God. Please make me beg.' You feel your heart pound as you stammer out a response.

Maybe he's right. Maybe you've already had a full evening. Maybe it's time to rest and recuperate.

Maybe you should have thought of those things before you let him chain you to this thing.

Padraic walks away from you and opens one of his cupboards. He fishes through things that rattle and clank and then he plucks something out of the various toys and tools and turns back to you.

You strain to see it, but he shields it from you with his body as he walks back. He casually snags one of the folding chairs from the table and plunks it down in front of you. Casually, he steps close to you and then whispers in your ear.

'So.... Begging.'

'Yes sir.'

'This might not have been the best thing to request of me girl.'

'Yes sir.' Your voice is raw with lust and need.

His hand glides up your torso and gently flicks your nipple as it climbs up your body. You shiver as his strong fingers seize your hair and bend back your head.

Your neck is exposed to his lips and teeth and he nibbles on the delicate skin. His lips drift lower and lower to the nape of your neck and between your breasts. Gently, but insistently he trails his mouth down your body. Teeth drag gently across your nipples and his tongue plumbs your navel and still he drifts lower and lower until fingers are spreading you wide and open and the touch of his tongue to your clitoris is like a jolt of lightning through your body.

'Oh GOD sir!' You squeal into the air as he skilfully manipulates your flesh.

He doesn't stop either, he just continues to work you with his tongue and lips and just the gentlest touch of his teeth and fingers.

Unfortunately, you asked him to make you beg. And that's what he does. He keeps bringing you to the absolute brink of climax and then he backs off. For thirty tortuous minutes he uses you like a puppet.

You plead and bargain with him. Or at least you try. He just laughs at you and keeps stroking and rubbing and licking parts of you that are hyper sensitive and over stimulated after what feels like an eternity of his skilled attention.

'God.... Sir... Master... please, please PLEASE let me finish. I'm going to... I... I... can't... I can't take this any more!' You wail to him, desperate for this to end, frantic for release.

'Now girl, you asked me to make you beg. That isn't begging. Let me educate you on what begging really is.' He tells you with an evil smile.

And then he slips his hand behind his back and produces the thing he hid from you.

It's a feather. A long, beautiful, soft feather rests gently between his fingers.

'Oh. Oh no. Oh noooooo...' You cannot help but whine just looking at it. You sense what is coming.

And he begins to tickle you. In all the places he caressed and touched and aroused with all of his attention for what seems like an eternity. And skin that is already ticklish sends you into frantic screaming fits as he relentlessly tickles you until you feel like you might lose control of your bladder.

That would be too much. You don't think you could handle humiliating yourself like that in front of him. He might find it funny, but you're pretty sure you could actually die of embarrassment.

And then you truly beg him to stop. Your body feels as taut as a bowstring and your nerves shriek into your brain and your sudden and intense desire for him to stop tormenting you overpowers everything else.

'Please SIR PLEASESTOPICANNOTTAKEANYMORE! I WILL DO ANYTHING YOU ASK JUST STOOOOPPPPPP!!!'

It's not your proudest moment.

'Well finally.' Padraic says wistfully. 'That took longer than I thought it would. I was afraid I was losing my touch.'

'Oh thank god. Thank you sir. Thank you.' You pant as you lay against the wooden and metal frame.

'Well how could I say no girl?' Padraic says with a chuckle as he walks behind the frame. 'You did promise me anything if I stopped.'

You feel all the blood drain from your face as he starts to loosen the manacle around your ankle. What did you just do?

'Wait... sir... what did... I asked you to make me beg to... to... to...' You stammer as you try to say it. Even now it's hard to even vocalize your need.

'You asked me to make you beg to come. I did that. And then I made you beg me to stop.'

'Yes, but...'

'And then you very thoughtfully promised to do anything I asked just to get me to stop.'

Your feet are released from the chain and they slide away from the steel legs and touch the chilly concrete floor. You're abruptly very cold in the chilly back room and you shiver as he continues to release you from the steel manacles.

'So you can take a few minutes and get dressed and then we'll go out front and have our schnapps and discuss what exactly you will be doing to make good on your promise. Girl.' He says to you in a calm but so very firm tone.

'Yes sir.' You murmur as he releases you from the frame. You rub your wrists as you awkwardly pull away from the frame. The steel bracelet has left a deep reddish indentation on your skin and your head spins at the sudden predicament you let him put you in.

'I'll see you once you are dressed Tuesday. Don't dawdle girl.' He says to you impishly and then he saunters away and out the back door.

You rub your wrist for a moment and meander back over to the table where he has thoughtfully opened up the padlocked box with your clothes. Your anxiety over what you just promised and the fact that Padraic is the most cruel and creative man you have ever met has you off balance, and it isn't until you have slipped out of the fetish gear that you were wearing and are slipping back into your comfortable yoga pants when you realize the one thing that you missed.

After all of it, his place with Morgan, here in his lap and strapped to the frame, it never happened once. He didn't let it happen.

He never let you come once.

'Oh my God you BASTARD' You suddenly shriek in frustration.

You bang your hand on the table hard and then drop your face into your hands. You're so frustrated that you nearly miss it.

Out in the bar, Padraic is laughing at you. You hear his deep throaty chuckle as he takes amusement at your frustration and then finally he comments loudly enough for you to hear.

'Guilty as charged girl. Guilty as charged. Now get dressed and get out here. The schnapps is getting warm and you need to make good on your promises.'

You sigh and finish getting dressed. Your master is waiting for you, and if you ever had any doubt that he owns you, it's been obliterated now. You slip into your top and the comfortable shoes that you wore to the gym and then trudge out to the bar to learn your fate.

And have some Schnapps.

He's a cruel bastard, but he really does have good schnapps.

Later, after schnapps and a discussion that did not go as you thought it would, you lay next to your husband and try to keep your mind from racing.

It's futile. You have far too much to process, and after this evening you are desperate for a release that he did not let you have.

After you got dressed and trudged out to the table, he was languidly waiting for you with a wry smile on his face. Once you sat down you prepared to have him tell you that you were going to get some piercings, or a tattoo or maybe even a brand. It made you nervous to look at him and know that you would probably do whatever he asked you to do. He just seemed to be able to push your buttons in such a way that whatever he told you to do, you just surrendered to.

Just like you wanted to.

You slid into your chair with a defeated look on your face, and abruptly it just started to spill out of you.

'Sir.... I just don't.... some things I can't do... I just can't. I'm not being defiant...'

'Girl...' He started, but you pushed onward.

'... I just can't do some of the more... permanent things. I would normally gladly get rings or a tattoo or... or... or other things...'

'Girl.' He tries again, futilely.

'... but I can't! I can't do things that my husband will ask questions about. I just can't. I don't... want to hurt him. I don't. It's not his fault that I'm... like this.'

You trail off. You feel sad and embarrassed and humiliated all at the same time. You feel ashamed for the things you want and you feel caught between two worlds.

And Padraic watches you the way a cat watches a bird.

'Girl...' He begins.

'I just can't sir. I...'

'Good lord woman, will you please let me speak?' Padraic says with exasperation.

You stop and clam up. You're just making this worse.

'All we are going to do is talk about your problem with your husband and find a way to fix it. Calm down please Ari.'

You stare at him.

'What?'

'You heard me. We're going to fix this problem between you and your husband. This won't last forever and then you'll be pining for more of what you know you can't get. And that won't end well.'

You continue to stare at him.

'Ari?'

You look down at your chest then back up at him.

'You know sir, if you want I'd be happy to get some tasteful piercings or even possibly a tattoo so long as it was in a place...'

'Arianna.' He says flatly.

'...in a place that I could cover up. Or we could do both, maybe even some other things...'

'Arianna!'

'.... Things that... oh sir, please don't do this. I don't think this is fixable!'

'Why would you think that?'

'Well, I pushed him away and it's my fault that I acted like a little brat and I just... I don't know if it can be fixed. I'm afraid I'll just make it worse and then... then I could lose everything.'

'I understand that Arianna, but we're going to try anyways. I have a plan.'

'Sir, I've tried before. Believe me I've tried! He just... doesn't have that in him any more. Some men don't!'

Padraic snickers at that comment.

'What is so funny?'

'I'll tell you sometime Ari. I will. But for now, you are going to trust me, and you are going to tell me everything you can about what your husband likes in the bedroom and what you can do for him.'

You groan, and then Padraic begins grilling you for information. And you reluctantly tell him everything.

Everything.

When he finishes he pats you on the hand and then pours you a shot of the schnapps.

'There now, was that so hard?

'Are you sure you wouldn't just prefer to see me with some nipple rings sir?' You ask him.

'We'll make this work Ari. I promise.' He says to you with a gentle smile.

You sigh and look back at him morosely. He seems confident, but you have doubts. You marriage has been a bit of a mess sexually for a while now, and you blame yourself for that. You pushed your husband too hard and he didn't know how to push back.

And what had once been a fiery, uninhibited, kinky sex life had devolved into tentative couplings and confusion and frustration and that had driven you to Padraic and his cruel games. And of course, now he was going to drag you back into this mess with your husband again.

Still, he seems to want what's best for you. You truly believe that. Even when he has you terrified and overwhelmed he has a way of touching on the things that you need him to. Whether he's stripping away any sense of control you have, doing things to you that push your limits or humiliating you with words and demands, he's always touching on an intense need that you've had to repress for what feels like too long.

But not every need.

'Sir?'

Padraic is reaching for the bottle of schnapps as you speak.

'Yes girl?'

'If we do this thing that you want me to do, can we... can... we try something different?'

'Different how?'

'My husband is going away for a seven days in a little while. It's enough time that I think well... that... marks and bruises... they could fade.'