His House of Submission (14 page)

Jasper held me by the hip as he fed the plug into my bum, making sure I didn't writhe or twist out of the way.

‘This is a good one,' he said, kissing my neck again, ending with a sucking bite. ‘You're going to feel this. Can you feel it?'

‘I'm very full,' I whispered.

‘Stuffed full,' he said with satisfaction. ‘It's all the way in now.' He patted the flange and stood well aside. ‘See, now she's ready.'

I heard his footprints on the dry grass, further away then closer again. He had the switch, I supposed.

‘It's a shame I can only get this from one angle,' he remarked. ‘Ideally, I need two cameras. One for your arse and one for your face. Or I should get a third party to film it. What do you think?'

‘No!'

He laughed.

‘It would be much better. Never mind. Now keep still as you can. This is going to hurt.'

The air whistled and then I cried out. The switch was intense, a slim slice of pure agony across the fleshiest part of my bottom. I almost felt the redness of it; it could properly be called a cut, even though the skin wasn't broken.

He lit my arse up with more, more, more. I swung and moaned, lifted my feet, rocked on my toes, yanked at my bonds, but I could not get away from the relentless swish, swish, swish and the subsequent sequence of throbs.

‘You'll feel this for a while,' he said.

I began to notice, after five or so, how each stroke made the butt plug quiver inside me, sending a message to my cunt. Jasper began laying the thickest part of the switch heavily across the flange, which didn't sting so much but made shock waves radiate through the base of my belly and outwards.

‘A paddle would be better for this,' he said, moving further back again and reverting to circus ringmaster mode. He had told me before about the importance of technique. A lesser dom might judge the stroke wrong and send the switch tip wrapping around my hip, which would be painful in a much less pleasurable way.

But Jasper was no lesser dom.

There was nothing in my life except the pain and the anticipation of the pain. Every other sense fell back into obscurity, in subjection to the whip and its ownership of me. This sharp, sweet smart at my rear was all I was. I let it govern me, ride my body and soul into another place, a place where Sarah was nothing, and ego didn't exist.

He showed me what I was – his.

I only realised after he stopped that my arms were aching and sweat was running down my thighs, mingled with my own sticky juices. The sensations of plugging and throbbing seemed to feed off each other, creating an arousal so almighty I rather feared the orgasm it would bring.

‘Brave little Sarah.' His breath was hot in my ear.

He laid his hands on my welted arse and squeezed it so that a million pinpricks of extra pain rushed through me, catching up with the endorphins in a wild dance.

He put his mouth on the back of my neck and sucked, lusciously at first, then with deeper dedication. He was going to mark me, and I wanted him to. He could sink his teeth right into that tender flesh and I wouldn't flinch. He didn't, though – simply kept up the pressure on the side of my neck while one of his hands moved between my thighs and sought out my clit. It was easily found, being out and proud and ready for action.

‘Mm, somebody needs fucking,' he said, loud enough for the recording equipment to pick up. ‘What do you think?' He let his fingertips flutter over the swollen bead, never touching it in the way I craved.

‘Please,' I whimpered.

‘Didn't hear you.'

‘Please,' I wailed.

‘Please? I get that, but there's something missing, isn't there? Only girls who ask nicely get their pussies used, Sarah, you know that.'

He withdrew his hand from between my thighs and smacked at the soft inner flesh, several times, hard.

‘Please, Sir,' I clarified, trying to push my bottom out invitingly, though the ropes curtailed my movements.

‘OK. I'll just bring the camera closer. Maybe a side angle is best for this … hmm.'

He faffed around with the camera for so long I nearly exploded with frustration. My clit felt huge, hanging there waiting for him, while the heat all around it set fire to every nerve ending.

‘That's it,' he said, swaggering up behind me.

He unbuttoned his trousers, pulled down his pants and took hold of me by the front of my thighs, nudging my pussy up to meet the head of his cock.

He went in swiftly and smoothly, my copious juices easing his way.

‘There,' he said, holding the position.

I felt the tip of him rub against the end of the butt plug. I was double-stuffed, as full as could be. The short wiry hairs around the base of his cock re-ignited the ferocious sting of the switch cuts – he must have known this, because he swivelled his hips slowly, filling me with an intense combination of pleasure and pain that equalled total submission.

‘Look at the camera, Sarah.'

I've seen that look many times when I've watched the film back. I always wonder what a stranger, viewing it without knowledge of me or Jasper or our dynamic, would make of it. I look the picture of defeated woe, yet I know that, in my heart, I am perfectly thrilled.

‘Now tell the camera what's happening to you. In precise detail.'

‘I'm tied to a tree,' I said slowly, fighting for breath. ‘And I'm naked. I've just been whipped. My bottom is very sore. I have a plug up inside it, and my master's cock is in my cunt. I'm about to get fucked.'

‘Beautiful. Perfectly scripted.' Jasper patted my flank in approval. ‘And I think that's my cue.'

It wasn't the easiest or most comfortable way to get fucked, but Jasper knew what he was doing and he managed to hold me in a position that didn't wrench anything while he thrust inside me, jiggling the plug with each surge forward. I gripped my ropes for dear life and let him lift me slightly, so my feet were off the ground and my legs braced around his calves. He must have had amazing strength and stamina to maintain this position, but he did it brilliantly. Sparks of friction built and built while the butt plug added an exquisite element to proceedings. When the climax came, it would take my whole body, crown to toes, and the anticipation of it stopped up my breath and made my skin tingle.

‘Take it, take it, take it,' he grunted.

‘Please, Sir, may I come?'

‘Louder!'

‘Please, Sir, may I come?' I shouted it, hearing my voice ring through the wood.

‘Yes.'

He nearly dropped me. I kicked and bucked so hard, my anal muscles clinging to the plug while I spasmed around Jasper's thrusting cock, that he swore and lurched forward, stumbling.

By the time I was wrung out, he had regained his footing, and he gripped me bruisingly hard for the last few strokes, growling in triumph when he filled me.

‘Christ,' he said, panting, lowering me to the ground again. ‘Thank God for weight training.'

He seized me by the chin and pushed his tongue, deep and possessively, into my mouth.

‘You horny little bitch,' he whispered, letting me up for air. ‘I'm adding you to my collection. You'd better catalogue yourself, love, because I own you, and you know it.'

I caught his mouth with mine and made him kiss me again. And again, and again.

Did he mean this? Did he want to keep me? Did I want to be kept?

He pulled out, leaving his spunk to trickle down my hot, sore thighs.

‘You look beautiful,' he said. ‘Fucking ravishing. And ravished.'

I wanted him to come back, come close, kiss me again, but he didn't.

He walked away.

By the time I looked around, to see what he was doing, he had gone.

‘Jasper!' I called, but answer came there none.

So there I was, hanging from a tree, dripping with semen, plugged and whipped in the open.
The bastard.

After ten minutes, I became genuinely anxious that he wasn't coming back. There had been an accident. He had taken an urgent call. He had fallen asleep.

The crackle of undergrowth lifted my heart and opened up my lungs for big breaths of relief.

‘That was mean,' I called out. ‘Really mean.'

The crackling stopped and I craned my neck round, but he was just beyond my range of vision.

‘Please, Sir, could you untie me now? My arms are aching.'

‘I don't know about that.'

My feet left the floor and I almost broke the branch in my efforts to twist around.

‘Will!'

‘Well, fuck me. Look what the bastard's gone and got himself. A willing little sex slave. I knew he'd got you into his kinks, but I didn't know what a pervy little slut you were. I'd have gone to town on you if I had.'

‘Fuck off, Will. He'll be back any minute.'

‘I'd rather fuck you than fuck off,' said Will.

I could hear the leer in his voice and I stiffened.

‘Don't even think about it,' I hissed, as threatening as I could make it from my position of humiliating bondage.

‘What would you do about it?' He moved closer, sucking in a breath. ‘Ouch, that looks sore. Seriously, what are you doing with this guy? He enjoys hurting you. I don't get it.'

‘I want him to. I like it.'

‘And, to think, you didn't even know what a butt plug was …'

‘Yes, I did.'

‘And now you've got one stuffed up your bum. Did you have it in when he fucked you?'

‘Just … fuck … off. Don't even think about touching me or I'll have Jasper on to you faster than –'

‘Oh, stop it. I know he doesn't like to share his toys. I hope you aren't getting in too deep, though. It won't last. It never does.'

‘Go away,' I said, but my resolve was weaker, shot down by his wounding words. I both did and didn't want to know what he had to say about Jasper's track record.

‘He's a collector, love. You know that. And he isn't about to stop collecting. You're just another entry on the list.' He paused for a moment while I tried to ignore all the implications of this statement. Not listening. Don't want to know. Then he spoke again. ‘Then again, you could just be the last. His style might just be cramped, pretty soon.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Never mind. Look, Sarah, I appreciate your not telling him you'd seen me before. You could have got me in all kinds of trouble. Thanks.'

‘I'll tell him about this.'

‘Please … why don't I untie you and you can come with me? You should get away from him. Things are going to get sticky around here and there's no reason you should be involved.'

‘Tell me what you mean.'

Rustling bracken foretold the reappearance of Jasper.

‘Screw it,' muttered Will, taking to his heels. ‘Screw you. And him.'

‘Who were you talking to?'

Jasper appeared to my left, a curious, not altogether comfortable, smile on his face.

I took a deep breath.

‘Will.'

‘
Will?
The groundsman?'

I nodded.

‘Please … could you untie me.' A sudden gush of tears surprised me.

Jasper leaped up behind me and unknotted the rope, then he stood with his arms around me, tight and encompassing. My sore bottom rubbed against his jeans in a rather wince-inducing manner, but that wasn't why I was crying.

‘What were you doing with Will?' he asked, the severity of his tone implying that he had gleaned completely the wrong idea. ‘You know what I said when we got together.'

‘No, not like that,' I sobbed. ‘You can't think I'd cheat on you. I never would.'

‘OK, OK.' He turned me round and let me water his chest, his hands in my hair. ‘I'm sorry. I trust you. What was he doing here?'

‘I don't know. He … he seems to think something bad's about to happen. But I don't know what. He was warning me.'

‘What sort of something bad?'

I shook my head. ‘He seemed to think he could tell me things about you that I wouldn't like to hear.'

‘But he didn't say what they were?'

‘No.'

Jasper held me at arm's length, frowning.

‘Get the camera,' he said, fishing out his mobile from his pocket and jabbing at it.

I picked up all the equipment and trotted after him, clutching all the cold hardware to my bare chest. Walking wasn't easy – my legs were stiff, my bum still full of plug – but I barely noticed. I was too interested in Jasper's phone conversations.

The first one was obviously to Will.

‘Whatever you've done, you're going to tell me what it is, now. I don't care what you've got on me. You could only have anything on me if you'd broken into my house and stolen my property. Is that what you did? So I should inform the police then? I don't give a shit. Bring it on. You can say what you like about me. I'm not a fucking politician or a royal – it's not going to do me any permanent damage. Right. I know what you've got then, and it reflects pretty badly on you. What's she ever done to hurt you? Damage limitation first, and then you'd better prepare yourself for a whole world of pain. Don't think I'll ever let this go. I won't. But it's not me you'll have to worry about.'

‘What's he done?' I asked nervously.

‘He won't say for sure, but I think he's stolen a videotape of mine. An old one, from about twelve years ago. And he's given it to somebody – one of the newspapers.'

‘What's the videotape?'

‘The fucker,' he fumed. ‘Look, I have to try and call around a few people first. I'll tell you when I've done that.'

A long and frantic conversation with his lawyer took us all the way up the house and beyond. I went upstairs to my room and dealt with the butt plug. Then I took a shower, dressed and came back down.

So this was a crisis. I felt a sense of dread, but also a weird kind of hope – as if this might finally bring our relationship into sharp focus and show me whether it was viable.