Read Hearts and Diamonds Online
Authors: Justine Elyot
‘Yes,’ he continued, ‘I started this business on her suggestion. I made a little paddle with a rose carved into it as an anniversary present, and she was so taken with it she suggested I try to sell my work. I was surprised at how quickly it took off. There’s quite a market out there.’
‘I love your designs,’ said Jason eagerly. ‘But I was wondering if you’d consider making me a paddle that I’d designed? I’m an artist myself, and I’m always looking for new ways to work. But I wouldn’t have a clue about all the machinery craftsman side of it.’
Lindo nodded, intrigued by the suggestion.
‘Well, whyever not?’ he said. ‘Do you have a particular design in mind?’
Jason grabbed a folded piece of A4 paper from his inside jacket pocket.
‘I was doing a few doodles last night. Not sure if any of them are any good . . .’
Lindo examined the page, while Jenna tried her best to peek at it. She hadn’t seen Jason doing these sketches – perhaps she had been asleep at the time.
She watched as Jason jabbed a finger at one.
‘Maybe that one? Do you think it would work?’
Lindo replied with a slow nod, then flashed a smile at Jenna and handed her the paper.
‘What do you think? Which is your favourite? It’s your skin, after all.’
A clutch of little pencil sketches adorned the page, in varying degrees of elaborateness. The one that drew her eye was one of the simplest: a large heart shape with the letter J cut out of it.
‘Would this one be simple to make?’ she asked, showing it to Lindo. ‘It looks like the easiest – none of the curly-wurly patterns on the others.’
‘Well, I can do curly-wurly patterns,’ said Lindo with a smile. ‘It’s not a problem. But you like that one?’
‘I kind of like the idea of what it would look like . . . after use,’ she said, coughing slightly to cover her blushes. Now she knew all three of them were thinking of her bum, with a red heart on each cheek and a white letter J in the middle. One for Jason, one for Jenna.
‘Yeah,’ said Jason, with low-toned satisfaction. ‘That would look peachy.’
‘Well, that would be no trouble at all,’ said Lindo briskly. ‘I can turn one out for you now. Were you thinking wood or leather? Or something else?’
‘I’d go for leather. I just like the feel of it more,’ said Jason. ‘I suppose that’s more work for you, though? Stitching and that?’
‘No more work at all. Wood requires a lot of sanding and smoothing. Come over to the workshop side and we can make a start.’
Jenna and Jason watched transfixed as Lindo demonstrated how to cut and fashion the leather into a serviceable spanking implement. At times, Jason was allowed to perform an operation or two, which he set to with a will.
‘I’d like to get into this,’ he said, looking up from machining stitches around the edge of the paddle. ‘Craftsmanship, like. I think I’d be good at it. I always bunked off textiles lessons at school cos I thought it’d be all embroidery and shit. But this is really good.’
‘You have the knack, I think,’ said Lindo, watching with approval.
Jenna had to admit she was enjoying watching Jason at work. Those skilled, sensitive, strong hands had more than one talent. They gave pleasure, they gave pain and they created so much that was beautiful. Perhaps she ought to get them insured. Come to think of it, that would make a good press release . . .
She came back to earth when Jason, having buffed the leather to a high shine, slapped the finished product into his palm.
‘I like it,’ he said. ‘Nice weight, feels solid but flexible too.’
‘Yes, I get a lot of testimonials from customers saying the same thing,’ said Lindo. ‘They’re beautiful to look at, but also they pack a high quality sting.’
Jenna bit her lip at that. A high quality sting, indeed. At least she wouldn’t be letting any old cheap rubbish tan her behind.
‘I can’t wait to see the result,’ said Jason, sucking a quick breath in between his teeth and looking at Jenna.
She looked away.
Lindo cleared his throat discreetly.
‘Well, you know, I do have a little loft upstairs if you’d like some privacy . . .’
Jason’s beaming smile left Jenna in no doubt that he was going to take Lindo up on his offer.
She looked at the door.
‘Shouldn’t we . . .?’
‘Don’t forget,’ said Jason softly, coming to stand next to her. ‘I performed like a puppet for you all morning. Fair’s fair.’
He was right. The bargain had been made. Jenna could only hope Lindo’s loft was a bit more spacious than the changing room at Cinq à Sept yesterday. She seemed to be making a habit of getting up to rude things on business premises lately.
Jason held out his hand. Jenna took it.
Lindo chuckled and led them over to a little door at the back of the room that opened onto a diagonal ladder staircase.
‘Up you go, then,’ he said. ‘I’ll nip to the shop next door and get some of their nice biscuits. And perhaps a bottle of wine to share? You’ll both have earned a drink, I think.’
He turned and left them at the foot of the ladder, Jenna heaving a sigh of relief at his discretion. Now she wouldn’t be fretting about how much noise they were making.
All the same, her heart was bumping all over her ribs like a pinball as she followed Jason up the ladder.
Reaching the top, her mouth dropped open and she gasped.
The place was kitted out like some kind of professional spanking parlour.
‘Fuck me,’ said Jason, obviously impressed. ‘Check it out.’
There were hooks in the roof and metal rings attached to all the support posts, for the chaining of miscreants. Rack upon rack of different implements lined the low walls. The floor was furnished with chairs and stepstools and strange little folding items for arranging your victims upon. In the centre was an honest-to-goodness spanking bench, in padded leather, with cuffs attached.
Jason began to tinker with this, finding that it could be moved on hinges into all kinds of different configurations.
‘Clever,’ he said. ‘I wonder if he makes these too. We could buy one.’
Jenna bit back a dry remark about how easy he seemed to find spending her money. Probably not the wisest thing to say, under the circumstances.
Instead, she merely said ‘Hmm’ and watched him adjust the bench until it was to his liking.
‘OK, then,’ he proclaimed, turning to grin at her. ‘Care to hop on board?’
‘You want me to get on that thing?’
She was dubious, mainly because of the cuffs. What if she got stuck in them?
‘Why not? Try it for size.’
‘OK, but don’t do those cuffs up.’
Jason pouted. ‘I thought you were into bondage.’
‘I’m into bondage in my own home,’ she emphasised.
He shrugged. ‘Up to you. But come on. This paddle won’t test itself. I need your arse, good and high.’
He slapped it into his hand, and the leathery sound, together with his words, galvanised her. She couldn’t resist Jason when he was in forceful mode. Within seconds she was prone on the spanking bench, draped across its padded upholstery with her smart skirt straining over her rear curves.
It was surprisingly comfortable and she settled into her pose, gripping the sides above her head and keeping her feet together.
There was a window just above them, set into the roof, and she heard the patter of pigeons crossing it, and their billing and cooing, which added to her feeling of reassurance in a strange way.
Jason seemed bent on stripping away that sense of comfort, though, along with other things. He unzipped her skirt and began lowering it over her hips. Jenna was immediately aware of being in a strange place, belonging to a strange man who might return from the shop at any moment.
‘Lindo . . .’ she quavered.
‘He won’t come up. He’s left us to it. And besides, how can I test this out over clothes? The design won’t show up.’
‘Couldn’t we do it back at the hotel?’
‘Relax, Jen. They don’t have all this kind of kit back at the hotel, do they?’ He slapped the leather cushioning just above Jenna’s head. ‘Unless they’ve got a secret dungeon in the basement. That’d be cool. I wonder if there are hotels that do that. We could open one. Make Harville Hall into a resort for kinky bastards. What do you reckon?’
‘Jason . . . Could you just get on with whatever you’re going to do?’
‘Whatever the lady desires,’ he said theatrically, pulling the skirt right down to Jenna’s knees. ‘Something to think about, though.’
‘Something to think about and then say “no way”,’ retorted Jenna.
Jason laughed. Still laughing, he smacked his palm down hard on her knicker-clad bottom so that she squealed in surprise.
‘Is that the way to talk to me, when you’re flat out on a spanking bench and I’m carrying a big old leather paddle?’ he asked lightly.
‘Probably not,’ she conceded.
‘Right.’ He pulled down her knickers.
It was very warm in the loft room with the glaring London sun penetrating the single-glazing of the roof window. Jenna felt that her thighs were already sweating, whether with heat or apprehension or something else she couldn’t be sure.
Her light cotton top stuck to her back and her palms were slippery against the leather. Why wouldn’t he just get on with it?
Without preamble, he did. The paddle snapped down on her already-warm bottom, causing her to arch her back and lift herself slightly off the bench.
‘Get down or I’ll have to cuff you,’ said Jason gruffly.
‘You surprised me!’
‘Don’t be daft. You’re on a spanking bench with your bare bum in the air. What do you think is going to happen?’
She reached behind to rub the sore spot on her right cheek.
‘Eh, and none of that, madam!’ Jason was indignant. ‘Or the cuffs definitely go on.’
He laid the paddle on her fingers and she removed them like a shot, reverting to her previous pose.
‘Are you going to be long?’ she whined. ‘I’m worried about being overheard . . .’
‘Well, I’m not,’ said Jason. ‘I couldn’t care less who listens in. And I’ll be as long as it takes.’
‘As long as it takes for what?’
‘As long as it takes for me to work off feeling like a right twonk all morning with your mate Georgina. Could be a long old session, Jen.’
‘I was only trying to help,’ Jenna wailed.
‘Yeah, and so am I.’
The paddle cracked down again, on the other side.
‘Therapy,’ whispered Jason.
Jenna resigned herself to accepting whatever he had in mind for her. If she stayed still and took it quietly, perhaps it would be over sooner. Surely it was too hot for him to put much effort into it, anyway.
But the sun’s ferocity didn’t seem to affect him at all. He gave her bottom a thorough workout, laying the paddle rhythmically and regularly in the same two spots on her right and left cheeks until she felt she couldn’t stand it. She tried to shift her behind around, to coax him into striking a different area of her skin, but he was resolute.
‘Don’t spoil the pattern, Jen,’ he scolded. ‘There’s a cane up there on the wall I might try otherwise.’
Er, no thanks.
She tightened her grip on the bench, her knuckles whitening with the effort.
It was harder than she remembered to take this pain. Surely yesterday, with the filigree patterned paddle, had been a breeze in comparison? This time it was too hot, and Jason’s rhythm was too unvarying. The same spot, over and over, and now he was getting faster as well, his confidence in full glory.
‘Oh please,’ she mewled, ready to throw herself sideways off the bench.
He stopped, and she was grateful for his tender mercies until she realised that he was finished anyway.
‘That should do nicely,’ he said, crouching low over her bottom so that she could feel his breath, adding to the fierce heat already radiating from it. ‘It’s gorgeous, Jen. Two perfect hearts with the letter J in each. Only thing missing is a 4 in the middle. If they designed a butt plug with a number 4 for the base . . .’
‘Oh, for God’s sake.’ She couldn’t help an aghast little laugh. Why had she thought it was a good idea to get involved with a highly creative person?
‘What? It would look amazing. Don’t you reckon? J 4 J all the way across your arse. A human canvas.’
‘I’m already one of those,’ she said, shifting uncomfortably to try and dissipate some of the stinging heat. The movement only emphasised how sticky-wet she was between her thighs. ‘Take a photo. I want to see what it looks like.’
‘Oh right. Sure.’
He snapped her cheeks and brought the phone round under her nose. She admired the pretty patterns of red and white, and the well-toned skin on which they were printed. Despite her lack of a home gym and trainer, she wasn’t doing too badly on the yoga and jogging round the garden regime. Or maybe it was the sex. Yes, come to think of it, she was getting every bit as good a workout as she ever had done.
‘Come on, that butt plug idea was good,’ wheedled Jason. ‘Don’t reject it out of hand.’
‘Perhaps you could Photoshop it in?’ she suggested.
He crouched beside her, stroking along her spine, his lips by her ear.
‘Perhaps that decision should be mine, hmm?’
She clenched her buttocks.
‘I think we should pay another visit to that little shop,’ he continued. ‘I could make the number four myself. I just need something to attach it to.’
‘I think we ought to get back to Bledburn. We’ve done everything we came to London for.’
Jason chuckled and kissed her neck.
‘I don’t see you moving off that bench, love. You seem to be taking root there.’
‘It’s surprisingly comfortable,’ she admitted. ‘And I’m too hot and sore to think about moving just yet.’
‘You’re hot all right.’ His lips found their way to her mouth.
She lay, dazed and floppy and layered with perspiration, lazily accepting his kiss, his tongue, his greedy hands all over her.
By the time he climbed over her, straddling her on the bench, and slid his uncovered cock inside her, she had forgotten everything except how her sex ached and throbbed for him. Their surroundings, their timetable, their possible company downstairs had all disappeared and she was conscious of nothing but her body and his, and the urgent need for them to meet.