Bonds of Courage (9 page)

“All right,” he said. “Anything else?”

“Safewords.”

His smile spread into a wide grin that had his eyes flashing. “Still Chihuahua.”

She was able to suppress her smile that time. “That’s a full stop on whatever we’re doing. No questions, no repercussions. Understood?” He nodded. “Is yellow okay for slow down when you need to pause or take a break?”

“That’s fine.” He straightened, stretching his back. “What about you? Any limits or things I should know?”

His asking showed he was learning. “Take my rules home and memorize them. My limits align with yours, but never assume anything. If you have a question, ask me. I’ll do the same. If something changes, tell me.” She picked up the papers and stood. “And never forget my most important rule. What we do doesn’t leave the playroom. Ever. I have no doubt we’ll see each other at the rink or other Glaciers events, but we’ll act no differently than we did before.”

He rose, and she maintained eye contact the whole time until she was looking up at him. “Understood. But...” He wet his lips. “We will be different. I don’t know how good I’ll be at hiding the changes.”

“Then learn. You’ve hidden your desires for years. This should be no different. I know what’s said behind my back. The locker-room smack-talk isn’t so secret. I will not be a conquest for you to flaunt.”

He reared back, scowling. “Where’d that come from? I’d never do that.”

Unfortunately, she had too much experience in the sports world to expect anything less. “You won’t get the chance either.” No one ever would. She spun away and headed toward her playroom. “By the way, we’re not exclusive. Fuck who you want.”

A crisp “Good to know” floated to her. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but the little sinking in her stomach wasn’t it.

She unlocked the playroom door and tucked the key back into her bra. She stepped to the side, waiting for him to enter before she flicked the light switch on. He stopped, his mouth parting as his gaze swept the room.

It wasn’t fancy or extremely extensive, but it suited her needs. The tile floor was polished to a shine beneath the various equipment positioned around the space. Some were on locking wheels, while others were bolted into place. A variety of trade tools hung on the wall, but most were stored in the closed cabinets that lined the wall to the right.

He rolled his shoulders, swallowed, then turned to her. “What do you want, Mistress?”

Her half smile was out before she could stop it. They were in her room, and the use of her title pleased her. It was right. She took a deep breath, absorbing the scent of the leather, the tang of disinfectant and the slightly damp smell that was always there when the room had been closed up for a while.

This was her space—one hundred percent.

She closed the door, the soft click like a Pavlovian signal to her. His soft moan hummed into her, drawing her deeper.

“You will present to me whenever we enter this room.” Her voice automatically lowered with the shift in her mind-set. “You will stand, feet shoulder-width apart.” She tapped the inside of his thigh until his stance widened. “Hands behind your back.” She pulled his arms behind him and had him clasp one of his wrists. “Eyes lowered.” She smoothed her palm across his chest, pressing on each shoulder to keep them back before tilting his chin down.

Stepping back, she admired him. Even fully dressed, he was fine. There was a pride in his stance that spoke to her. He might be submitting to her here, but it wasn’t his natural inclination in life. It made his gift even more special.

“Drop your pants.” Her command sliced through the room exactly as she wanted it to. The delicious rush of power pulsed through her when he moved his hands to the button of his jeans, no hesitation or questions.

Her palms itched to touch him. Tease him.

He pushed his jeans and underwear to his knees then straightened, resuming his position, and she took a moment to appreciate him.

His hair had fallen forward to brush across his forehead and his shirt hung low enough to cover the top half of his flaccid penis. It made an interesting peekaboo effect with the rounded tip where it dipped below the hem. A smattering of dark hair picked up about midway down his solid thighs to cover his legs.

Oh, this was off to a promising start. But...

She turned away to retrieve the item she wanted from one of the cabinets. The drawer slid open easily to reveal her collection of chastity devices. She glanced over her shoulder, assessing before selecting the stainless steel one that was heavy in her palm but not excessive—less than half a pound. It was perfect for his first true experience at submission.

Keeping it hidden in her palm, she strolled back to him, a smile playing on her lips. “Do you know what this is?”

He looked up, and she opened her hand to show him the chastity device. His inhale was short and sharp, but otherwise, he didn’t react. “Is that a cock cage?” His voice stayed flat as his gaze shot between her and the device. “Mistress.”

“Yes.” She moved closer so he could see it better. “I want you to wear it.”

He swallowed, studied the device then slowly nodded. “If it pleases you, Mistress.”

It was the right answer, but would it stay the same after she put it on? His shoulders had tensed, hunching forward, telling her he wasn’t fully on board with her plan. But he’d agreed anyway.

She grabbed a bottle of lotion. “Hold out your hand.” She squirted a dab into his palm when he did. “Rub that around the base of your cock and scrotum, but don’t get hard.”

His chest expanded with a deep inhale, but he did as directed. The mechanical way he completed the job had her smirking once again. He was trying hard to please her and that was all she really required as a Domme.

When he finished, she moved in. She unlocked the device and separated the solid metal tube from the ring. “Hold this, please.”

He took the tube, flipping it around to inspect it as she set the lock and key aside. “Mistress?”

“Yes?”

“How long do you want me to wear this?”

She’d expected the hesitancy in his voice. “Until eight tomorrow night.”

His brows flew up. “I’m staying here then?”

She smiled. “No.”

He quickly scanned from the steel tube in his hand to his cock as he contemplated twenty-four hours in a chastity device. She waited a moment, the tension building before reaching for him.

“I thought you were only my Mistress while we were in this room.”

She froze, her hand inches from him. To his credit, he hadn’t flinched. Based on the lack of challenge in his voice, she could tell he was seeking clarification. He had her, though. She’d set down the rules to keep her boundaries and now she was pushing him outside of them before they’d really started.

“I am.” She focused on his blue eyes, noting how they’d darkened. “And as your Mistress right now, this pleases me.”

If he agreed, then she’d know how serious he was about submitting to her. She still didn’t trust his intent or his commitment. But then, if they were just playing, commitment wasn’t a requirement, which could be the real reason he didn’t want a contract.

He bowed his head, hands going behind his back. “Yes, Mistress.”

And he’d called her bluff. She’d thought for sure he’d safeword and they’d be done. Instead of getting sex, she was denying him, and he was okay with that. The rise of adrenaline in her system had her pulse racing at a rate she usually only felt while in the middle of an intense Scene.

“When was the last time you had an orgasm?” She snapped out the question.

He swallowed. “This morning. In the shower.”

She bit her tongue to keep from asking if he’d been alone. She usually didn’t care. It wasn’t her business. “This won’t be comfortable going on.” She held up the silver ring. “But it shouldn’t hurt. Tell me if it does.”

Maneuvering his scrotum and then his penis through the inch-and-a-half ring involved a lot of flesh squishing, but he held still until it firmly circled the base of his cock and balls.

“The tube.” She waved her fingers, and he placed the steel penis tube in her palm. That slid on with relative ease. Once the pins were aligned, she slipped the lock in and turned the key to keep it all in place.

His breathing had increased, the air rushing out of his nostrils in audible bursts. She stepped back to admire her work. The silver cage hung from his groin in a shiny display of her power over him. She tucked the key into her bra, pressing on it to absorb the rush that raced through her.

“Does it feel okay?”

He was staring at the ceiling now, low breaths being pushed through pursed lips. “Yes, Mistress.” The gritty control in his answer said something else.

“Then dress,” she said. If he wasn’t speaking up, then she wasn’t babying him.

She returned to the cabinet while he did up his pants. She waited until he was done adjusting himself before she handed him the next item. “Use this to clean the inside of the tube in the morning and before you return.” It was a basic plastic bottle with a long nozzle that would fit into the hole at the base of the tube. After he took it, she continued, “I know you don’t have ice time on Saturday, but I would recommend limiting your callisthenic workout and sticking to weights. Do you have any questions?”

He looked to her, a mix of confusion and desire in his eyes. He worked his lower lip between his teeth, the indecision so clear she found herself silently saying a small prayer, which froze her in place. She was purposely testing him, but she wanted him to succeed.

That meant on some level, she truly wanted him as her submissive.

“No, Mistress.”

Her admission to herself was timed with his soft reply. The double impact twisted a raw nerve that dug at her chest. It didn’t matter though. He’d see only what she wanted him to see.

“Then we’re done.” Her crisp tone matched her movements as she exited the playroom and led him to the front door.

The cool evening air was refreshing on her flushed skin when she stepped onto the porch. Darkness had descended, but it was still light enough to see. She stared at nothing and everything as her gaze passed over her perfect lawn and the empty street beyond.

“Can I ask you a question now?”

The deep rumble of his voice tumbled over her to leave a bevy of goose bumps down her arms and a knot in her chest. She turned to him with a practiced smile. “Always.”

His face was solemn, his voice intimate. “Does doing this make you happy?”

Her frown was instantaneous. She’d never thought of it that way before. Being a Domme felt good, but more than anything it was simply a part of who she was. A dimension she fed when the need arose. But happy?

“Yes,” she lied.

He reached out and traced a gentle line down the edge of her jaw. The rush of tingles that sprouted over her skin shouldn’t have felt so good. The mimicked move that she’d done to him at the restaurant was a clear ploy she wasn’t falling for. Yet the loss of his touch had the knot in her chest constricting.

“Someday, I hope that’s true.”

His words echoed in her mind as he headed to his car. She stood there long after the rumble of his engine died in the distance. Long after the sky darkened, leaving only the outline of the trees for her to stare at. Long after she shivered from the cold that emanated from deep within her.

Chapter Nine

Holden jerked awake. The pressing pain in his groin seared through the fog of sleep in the next second.
Son of a bitch.
He curled up on his side, his hand automatically going to his dick. The hard touch of steel was an instant reminder of why his fucking erection felt like it was being squeezed by a vise. But worse than that, his balls were about ready to explode.

What the fuck?

The overall sensation was so close to being nailed in the nuts that he flailed a hand around behind him to ensure he was alone. A glance at the clock showed it was three o’clock in the fucking morning, and he had a goddamn boner trapped in a cock cage.

Holy fuck
. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to find a way to lie to ease the pain. The ring surrounding the base of his cock and balls felt like it’d been heated under a flame. It was burning the skin and choking the hell out of the erection he had no control over.
Shit
.

So much for chastity devices completely preventing erections.
Jesus
.

He flopped to his stomach, but quickly discovered lying on it was worse. He could actually feel the blood rushing to his dick, making his erection grow.
Oh
,
fuck no.

Rolling back to his side, he shifted around until he finally found a way to rest everything on his upper thigh, which took some of the weight off and eased the pain a bit. He gripped the headboard rails over his head, closed his eyes and focused on breathing. Slow in and out. The same long breaths he used to center himself.

After what seemed like two fucking hours later, the biting sensation lessened around his scrotum as his cock softened. His dick receded from where it’d been squashed against the end of the tube, and the whole device finally lowered to where it was once again tolerable.

The intensity of the experience had his skin damp and his mind numb. He blew out a long breath and dug his fingers into his hair. He lay there for a while, absorbing the rush of sensation. He was exhausted and oddly sated. There was a strange element of pride that he’d managed the pain. For her.

Vanessa was a fucking genius.

When she’d first showed him the chastity device, he’d thought she was joking. But then, she rarely joked. It’d taken a second to understand the challenge for what it was. The thought of wearing the damn thing had both enticed and pissed him off, but no way would he balk so early.

Now. God, now he understood.

She owned him. The cock cage was a vivid reminder of her power over him, even if she said she didn’t want it outside the playroom.

He loved it.

He’d spent the entire evening roaming around his house so he could experience the weight of the device. The way it bunched up when he sat down. The extra bulge that pulled on the material of jeans. He’d even walked around naked after staring at himself in the mirror.

He smiled into the darkness as he laid his fingers on the metal tube. It was warm to the touch. Hard. He traced the outline of the lock, his smile growing. She had the key.

With his job, this wasn’t something he could wear often or full-time, but damn, he certainly didn’t mind it. The only thing better would be if she were here to see it. The thought of pleasuring her until she came while he was denied release had his erection returning.

Holy fuck no
. He vaulted off the bed and headed to the bathroom. Urinating had been an event all its own, but he had it down now. Oddly enough, he was excited to go out tomorrow and discover what else he’d figure out. He’d first thought he’d skip everything and hide out at home, but not anymore.

He was doing his day as planned. Lifting weights and then lunch with Walters before swinging by the youth center for a few hours. Being busy would be a hell of a lot better than sitting home thinking about Vanessa all day. He’d end up with a hundred boners and blue balls the size of kettlebells if he did.

She’d be in his thoughts all day anyway, but this way he’d have other distractions. Plus he liked the idea of having a secret that was between his Mistress and him.

His Mistress—Vanessa.

* * *

The first text arrived as he was eating breakfast.

Sleep well?

He grinned and quickly typed back.

Sleeping was fine. It was the waking up that sucked.

Sweet dreams then?

I’ll never take my morning wood for granted again.

Imagine how good it will feel when I suck your cock into my mouth later.

Holy shit. He shifted on the bar stool and quickly pressed his palm to the tube to hold it against his groin. After a few seconds of deep breathing, he got his cock under control and managed to type in a response.
If it pleases you.

He got the next text when he was in the locker room at the gym. He’d just finished the awkward dance of changing his clothes while keeping a towel around his waist. He’d
never
done that. He’d grown up in locker rooms, and nudity was just a part of it. If any of the guys saw him wiggling his pants on beneath a towel, they’d rip on him for weeks.

Having a good day?

He dropped the towel and quickly did up his cargo shorts. After several attempts, he’d found some clothes that worked with the cage. He’d emptied his underwear drawer before settling on a jockstrap fitted for a cup, only he’d left the cup out. The extra weight on his groin was a constant reminder of Vanessa, but the snug hold of the strap kept it from being obvious to others.

Snatching his phone from the locker shelf, he texted back
. Excellent. You?

Where are u?

At the gym.

I can see you strapped to a bench, waiting for me.

Shit. He banged his head into the locker, shifting his weight until the pressure on his skull was greater than the one in his groin. Eyes squeezed closed, he visualized slap shots sailing into the net until his dick stopped responding to the image she’d conjured. At last he texted back.
If it pleases you.

The text during lunch was perfectly timed to the point that he actually scanned the pub to be certain she wasn’t there.

How’s lunch?

He glanced at Walters then answered.
Good. Yours?

He was chewing another bite of his burger when her text came back.
Dinner will be better. You’ll be eating me.

The burger lodged in his throat when he inhaled.
Fuck
. The harsh round of coughing that followed burned his chest and warmed his face.

“You okay, man?”

Holden looked through watery eyes at his teammate and nodded. He coughed again and managed to get a swallow of water down. Damn, that hurt. But at least it’d dissuaded his dick from responding to Vanessa’s text.

“Sorry,” he croaked. “Wrong pipe.”

Walters nodded and dug into his own burger. The starting center had been Holden’s friend since Holden’s trade to the Glaciers last season. It was normal to bond with the men on his line and this pairing worked off-ice too.

“Interesting text?” Walters asked, his chin bobbing to indicate Holden’s phone clutched in his hand.

Holden gave a noncommittal grunt, took another drink and sent back his response before stowing his phone in the large side-pocket on his shorts.
If it pleases you.
Damn. It would certainly please him. “How’s the family doing?” he asked as a way to change the subject. The man wasn’t married, but like Holden, he’d spent a few weeks in his hometown after the season had ended.

Walters swallowed his food and shrugged. “Fine. But you know how it is. It’s always a bit weird. Nothing changes, yet everyone thinks you have.”

“Yeah,” Holden agreed. “My sisters and parents are the only ones who still treat me the same.” His whole family lived in the suburbs surrounding Flint, Michigan, where he’d been raised. They were good people with working-class morals. His parents refused all of his offers of financial help, content to stay in the house they’d bought almost forty years ago.

Walters gave a sarcastic snort and ran his napkin over his mouth. “My sister tries to hook me up with all of her friends. It pisses me off.”

Holden laughed. “My sisters warned me away from all of their friends. I’ve been threatened with death if I ever date someone they know.”

“Wanna trade sisters?” Walters’s brows rose with hope before he chuckled.

“Hell, if you think you can handle them, you can have mine.”

“Three older, right?”

Holden nodded as he chewed his food.

Walters paused for a second before shaking his head. “Nah. It’s tempting, but I’ll stick to my pain-in-the-ass one. Thanks.”

Another text arrived when Holden was sorting out the meager sports equipment stored in a closet at the youth center.
Still on?

Holden snorted. He didn’t question what she was talking about. The fucker was locked on and she had the key. With a lot of soap and the willingness to tug on sensitive areas, he could get the cage off—he’d tested it in the shower that morning. What he’d really discovered was that chastity was a mental thing on his part. Escape was possible, but he wanted to be in the device because she wanted it.

For you,
was his simple response when in fact it was for him too.

He leaned against the wall and waited. The space was cramped and smelled of dust, dirt, plastic and leather. Sports—a scent he’d breathed for just about forever. He’d played baseball for a bit, even did soccer for a season before hockey became his sole focus.

I
own it.

His head thumped against the wall, eyes closing. God, yes. Would she ever admit to owning him? His phone buzzed with another text.

I’ll show you exactly how when you’re strapped to my whipping post tonight.

The visual was in his head instantly and of course, his dick responded. He checked the doorway and pressed his palm to his groin to push the tube down. He was getting used to the tightening pull, along with the ache in his balls. He was even starting to like it as long as he could control it. The discomfort that came with a semi was just enough to remind him who owned him—or his orgasm, at least.

If it pleases you.
He sent the text just before Liv stuck her head through the doorway.

“Everything okay in here?” She flashed a smile and held a badge out to him. “Your background check finally came through.”

“Thanks.” He straightened, shoved his phone into his pocket and grabbed the badge. “I guess I’m official now,” he joked before he clipped the laminated badge to the belt loop on his shorts.

“Don’t let me down.” She pointed a finger at him, her look shrewd and so much like her sister’s that he caught himself staring.

He forced a laugh and shook away the thought before his dick responded. “There’s not a lot in here, is there?” He glanced at the half-empty shelves.

She shrugged. “We do what we can.” She waggled her brows. “You wouldn’t happen to know any place willing to make a donation of sporting equipment, would you?” Her wide grin and obvious but shameless bid for his help had him laughing.

“You’re good, you know that?” She really was.

Her chin rose in pride. “It’s my job. But hey, I was only joking.” She waved a hand in dismissal. “The floor hockey stuff was great. Anton is digging the goalie gear you brought, too. It’s the only thing the kids want to play.”

“Give it another week and they’ll be bored.”

“Too true!” She grabbed a couple of basketballs. “Come on. There’s a game starting in five.”

Now that was something he wasn’t willing to try while wearing his new toy. “I’ll ref,” he called out, closing the storage room door.

The last text came as he was getting ready for his evening with her. The anticipation had simmered all day. The chastity device kept his Mistress solidly on his mind. Not always in the forefront, but she’d been there every time the metal moved around or tugged on his balls or he had to inconspicuously adjust himself to get comfortable. Yeah, she’d been there.

In case you need it.

A link to a website followed, which he clicked. He laughed out loud when he saw a video clip detailing how to clean the chastity device while wearing it. There was no way he wasn’t clicking Play. The three-minute clip showed every step for getting the inside nice and sanitized. There was something fascinating about seeing the device on an anonymous man who was proud to wear his cage and share his knowledge with others. Yet he couldn’t help checking over his shoulder to ensure no one was watching, even though he was alone in his house.

When the video finished, he replied to Vanessa.
Thank you.

Any issues today?

He typed in a reply then quickly deleted it.
Nothing I couldn’t handle.
That was more truthful.

You’ve pleased me.

He reread those words multiple times, his smile growing with each pass. A warm sense of pride flushed his skin.

Thank you.
He sent the text without the Mistress like he wanted to, but that was too revealing to put in cyberspace. Vanessa’s number was labeled as Her in his contact list. There was always of chance of someone finding his phone or reading his texts, even accidently. He’d taken seriously her threat of things being over if they were discovered. Hell, the exact extent of their relationship wasn’t something he wanted out there either.

When no more texts came through, he set his phone down and picked up the bottle she’d given him last night. He chuckled once again. So many things to learn, and he was looking forward to every one of them.