Accidental Slave (29 page)

She began to pant, her eyes squeezed shut, a climax rising up through her like sap returning to a dying tree. One little cry escaped her lips and then she fell limp, her hands falling away from her sticky sex, her head lolling to the side.

She heard a sound and her eyes flew open. Cole was standing just inside the doorway, his eyes narrowed, his lips pressed into a thin angry line. Oh God, what had he seen? How long had he been watching her?

Without a word he advanced into the room. “Cole, I—I didn’t, I mean, it was only….” Her words died as he towered over her and hauled her by her shackled wrists from the bed. Jerking the chain, he pulled her along behind him out of the room and down the hall.

She stumbled as she struggled to keep up. Her heart was smashing in her chest and she could barely catch her breath. “Please! I’m sorry. I just needed it so bad. Come on, I said I’m sorry.

Damn it, it’s my body.” Her voice was rising, along with the panic in her gut. He still hadn't said a word. Where was the kind, patient Dom of the day before?

He pushed open the door and dragged her up the steps and into the playroom. Still without speaking, he unclasped the cuffs and spun her around so her back was to him. “Hands behind your back,” he barked.

Trembling, she obeyed. At least he had said
something
. He cuffed her wrists again and began marching her toward the corner of the room where the puppy cage waited, covered in its black sheet. When she realized where they were going, she pushed back hard against him. “No. I can’t do that. I can’t go in there. It’s too small. Please, I can’t—”

“You should have thought of that while you were stealing that orgasm, slut.” He pushed her to her knees and pulled the sheet from the steel bars. The padlock was open and he removed it from the small door and pulled it open. “Get in.”

“No, really. I can’t. Please. I’ll be good, I swear. I don’t want to get in.”

Cole’s voice was deadly. “You get in, now.”

Elizabeth swallowed and stared up beseechingly at him. His face was impassive, except for the fiery black eyes, which flashed with anger. Her heart thumping, her breath catching, she crawled into the small enclosure.

She sat in a half-crouch, gripping the bars as he shut the door with a clank and snapped the heavy padlock into place. “Cole, don’t
leave
me. Please. I can’t do this. Please. Punish me some other way.” She wailed his name as he left the dungeon, shutting the door with a resounding click.

~*~

Cole moved quickly down the hall to his study. His heart was beating far too fast He needed to calm down. Anger had no place in a Dom’s repertoire. He sat behind his desk and closed his eyes a moment, taking several slow, deep breaths. Then he flipped on the screen of the small closed-circuit TV that was connected to the small video camera mounted discreetly on the wall facing the puppy cage.

Elizabeth came into view. He adjusted the sound. She was clenching the bars and shaking them, calling his name, begging him to come back. His heart wrenched and he half-stood but forced himself to sit back down. He turned down the volume though he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen.

Clearly she didn’t like being in that cage. But why had she done what she’d done? Was this whole thing just a game to her? He didn’t want to think so. She’d been so sincere, or so he’d thought last night, assuring him in that low, sultry voice of hers that she wanted to do better, she wanted to keep trying. He had believed her. What a shock, what a disappointment, to find her with her hand buried in her cunt, the telltale rosy flush of orgasm mottled on her chest and neck.

This was not a mistake or something to be forgiven or overlooked because of her lack of training. This was a willful breaking of the rules—a conscious decision on her part to dismiss the promises between them. He shook his head as he watched her on the monitor. How he wanted her—but not like this. Not a willful, sneaky brat who only played at submission when it suited her.

She lay on her side, curling herself into a fetal ball, her back now to the camera. He was being too hard on her. He’d teased her unmercifully the day before, bringing her twice nearly to orgasm, then stopping her. He knew how aroused she was as they lay in bed and again he’d withheld her pleasure, forgoing his own desire to fuck her because he wanted her that much more needy and eager for him today.

He’d entered the bedroom with the intention of licking her to orgasm, letting her come as long and hard as she wished before beginning the day’s training. But she’d ruined it.

Stop it. She didn’t ruin anything. She fucked up, that’s all. She’s human. She’s being
punished and then you forgive her and move on. Don’t make more of this than it is. She’s just
undisciplined. Don’t be such a hard ass.

He leaned toward the monitor and turned up the volume. It took him a moment to interpret the muffled, snuffling sound coming from the cage. He saw her shoulders were shaking. Ah, Jesus, she was crying. His baby was crying.

Leaping from his chair, he ran down the hall and hurtled up the steps. He burst into the playroom, fumbling with the padlock key, his hands trembling as he turned it in the lock. In a second he had the door open. He reached for her.

“Elizabeth. Hey, it’s okay. Turn around. Come out of there. It’s okay.
Please
.” She turned slowly toward him, her face streaked with tears. Cole’s heart lurched with pain. “Oh God, baby.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just wanted to teach you a lesson. I didn’t know how else to reach you.”

She rolled toward him and crawled out of the cage, into his waiting arms.

~*~

She’d very nearly fought Cole, ready to ruin everything, to give it all up, just to avoid being forced into that dreadful cage. She had never liked confined spaces. Crowded elevators always left her with a vague if undefined sense of unease. She didn’t like to feel hemmed in.

It was a sheer act of will to make herself go in there, an act of courage. But when he’d walked out, closing the door behind him, she’d felt herself losing it. Panic had rolled over her like a mudslide, destroying the fragile self-control left to her.

When he didn’t return, despite her entreaties, she gave in to her panic, curling as tight as she could and letting her sobs overtake her. When she realized he was back, calling her name, holding out his arms to her, she continued to cry, but they were tears of relief.

Now Cole took off the cuffs, dropping them to the floor. Scooting back with her on his lap, he leaned against the wall, holding her tight. He let her cry, holding her and rocking her in his arms. Eventually she calmed down, the tears drying, the panic ebbing away, replaced by an exhausted but peaceful calm.

Cole wiped away her tears with his fingertips and pulled her close so her damp cheek rested against his chest. It felt wonderful to be wrapped in his strong, warm embrace. She wanted to stay there forever. Her eyelids felt heavy after her cry and she let them close, breathing in his masculine essence, curling like a cat in his arms.

She was nearly asleep when his words pierced her consciousness. “You forgive me?”

Elizabeth was confused. She twisted in his arms to see his face. “Me forgive you? Aren’t I the one who disobeyed?”

“Well, yes.” Cole smiled. “But what happened just now was my fault. I should have listened better. Paid better attention to your cues. I didn’t take the time to understand your limits. I didn’t realize the depths of your fear of confined spaces. I shouldn’t have left you alone in the cage, not even for one minute.”

He gave a small, sad laugh. “It’s ironic, with me on my soapbox lecturing about the importance of communication in a D/s relationship, more paramount even than in a vanilla love affair.” He shook his head. “I want to test your limits, yes. But not to push so far past them you become terrified. That was never my intention. I’m sorry, sweetheart. So very sorry.”

Elizabeth stared at the puppy cage, wondering now what had frightened her so. She felt almost sheepish at how strongly she’d reacted. She wanted to take the sadness out of Cole’s voice. “It’s okay, Cole. Really. I just panicked for a minute. I’m fine now. Better than fine. I feel like a whole new world is opening up to me. I don’t want to stop because of one little setback. I want to keep going. You haven’t given up on me, have you?”

Cole’s expression was one of such incredulous surprise Elizabeth had to laugh. “Given up you?” he demanded. “God, no! I would never do that. It’s me who needs another chance here.”

“Then you’ve got it.”

“Okay then. Clean slate.” He got to his feet, still holding Elizabeth in his arms. “How about a nice hot shower?” Elizabeth nodded, still feeling a little sheepish. He was treating her as if she had just recovered from a long, lingering illness or a car accident or something. Still, she let him carry her all the way to the bathroom, loving the feeling of being held and protected in his strong, safe embrace.

The shower was huge, with jets spraying not only from overhead, but from two sides. There was a marble bench set at the back of the stall. They held one another for a long moment in the hot spray. Elizabeth felt Cole’s erection rising against her stomach. She wanted to drop to her knees and take him into her mouth, but given her earlier willful disobedience, she didn’t quite dare.

After they’d soaped their bodies and washed their hair, Cole pointed to the marble bench.

“I’m going to groom you today.”

Elizabeth sat, watching as he took a fresh razor from the shower rack. He squirted a dollop of emollient soft soap onto his fingers and turned to her. “Raise your arms and stay very still. I don’t want to nick you.”

She did as he asked. It felt strange to have someone else shaving her underarms. He was very gentle and he made a cute face while he was working—the tip of his tongue appearing between his lips as he concentrated.

Next he knelt in front of her and did her legs, moving with long, sure strokes over the skin.

He ran his fingers over them when he was done and nodded with a smile. “Smooth as silk. Now for that lovely cunt. Scoot forward and spread your legs.”

A wave of apprehension washed over Elizabeth at the thought of a sharp razor in someone else’s hands being used on her delicate parts. Yet he’d been very gentle with her underarms and legs. And she couldn’t deny the slow pulse of desire that had rekindled as he’d touched her body.

She moved forward until she was perched on the edge of the bench and dutifully spread her legs wide. Cole used a mixture of baby oil and the emollient soap, rubbing it gently over her mons and outer labia. She closed her eyes as the razor slid over her skin, followed by his fingers.

His touch sent spasms of pleasure surging through her. She held herself still to keep from shuddering.

When he was done he had her stand and rinse herself. She thought they’d get out of the shower but he wasn’t done. “Sit back down and spread your legs.” She obeyed, wondering if perhaps he’d missed a spot. But this time when he knelt, he held no razor. Putting a hand on either thigh, he leaned down and licked the smooth folds of her shorn sex.

“Ah,” she moaned. His tongue was like liquid fire, drawing a criss-crossed path of shivery pleasure over her sex. He licked and suckled her swelling clit and moved lower, pressing his tongue into her tunnel, making her long for his hard, thick cock. As he drew her rapidly toward climax, she let her head fall back, losing herself in the delicious sensations.

Her body began to shudder and she opened her mouth, trying to speak, to ask for what she had silently vowed to herself she would never take again without her Dom’s express permission.

He pulled away from just long enough to say, “Come for me. Now.”

She did.

~*~

She looked like an angel, her arms pulled taut overhead like wings, her long, shapely legs spread, her proud, bare body displayed before him. She was suspended from chains secured to the eyehooks in the cement beam, her wrists bound securely in the attached cuffs.

She’d been subdued over breakfast, quietly apologizing for masturbating without permission. He’d accepted her apology and gently questioned her about her honest feelings with regard to continuing the training. Her heartfelt response convinced him to keep going. Though he didn’t mention it to her, he doubted he would ever use the cage again. He had wanted to punish, not terrify her.

It had been a mistake to force her into the cage without first taking the time to understand her reservations. The experience had only highlighted for him the importance of communication.

He would make sure going forward he had a better understanding of her limits and her fears.

Together they would break them down, one by one.

Now he drew the tresses of the heavy flogger over her back, admiring the contrast of black soft leather and pale soft skin. He stood close behind her and reached around her body to cup her breast. He wore no shirt, only jeans. His feet were bare. He pressed his erection against her ass and squeezed her breast.

“Are you ready for your first whipping? Are you sure?”

“Yes. I want it…Sir.” He could feel her heart beating like a caged bird. She was afraid, he knew, but he believed her. She wanted this. She wouldn’t still be here, after all she’d been through over the past twenty-four hours, if she didn’t want what he offered.

He wanted it too, more than he’d wanted anything in his life. He’d found the girl of his dreams. He would do anything, he realized, to keep her. The fact she wanted to submit to him, to belong to him, reached something deep inside him. He knew these next few days were pivotal in establishing their relationship going forward. He would need to draw on all his discipline, knowledge and self-control to keep from pushing her too hard, but at the same time giving her what she needed.

He stepped back and stood just behind and to the side of the naked, bound girl. He glanced at the mirrored wall facing them and saw she was watching him, her eyes glittering, her lips parted, her nipples stiff and red.