Karma (14 page)

André stepped back and returned to the armoire with
leather, fur-lined hand cuffs. He ordered his sub to hold her hands out while
he cuffed her, checking the fit and then attaching them to a large chain and some
equipment that was out of the camera's reach.

"What I do now will frighten you I fear,
ma
petite
," he said. "Take deep slow breaths. All will be
well." He pulled out a remote from his pocket and touched something.
Instantly there was the sound of mechanism switching on. The chain rose, and
Jennifer's arms rose with it.

André patted her back comfortingly. "Keep your feet
flat on the floor.
Bon
." When her arms were high over her head the
machinery stopped. "It is well,
ma petite
?" he asked kindly.

Wide-eyed, her entire body shaking, Jennifer displayed every
sign of nerves strung to breaking point. She moistened her lips and cleared her
throat. Her chest heaved with every breath, her skin flushed pink and her pulse
was elevated.

"What are you going to do?" she asked in a
panicked gasp, forgetting to use the appellation 'Sir.' The look in her
expression was exposed and vulnerable, like a wild animal with its foot caught
in a trap.

André's arms folded around her. He wrapped a hand in her
hair, and pulled her head back so that he could press his lips confidently
against hers. He positioned her as he liked, did with her as he liked.

Just then André Chevalier owned Jennifer Whittington.

Jennifer fell into that kiss, kissing him back like he
was her only salvation or perhaps her only contact to reality. André kissed and
stroked her for some time, until her breathing slowed, until her color eased. When
she had calmed, he pulled back from her, keeping one possessive hand upon her
nape.

"Better now?" he asked, giving her collar a
little tug and a slow sexy smile.

"Yes, thank you," she whispered.

"You forget to call me sir, but I excuse this small
breach," he told her in his calm voice.

"Oh, sorry, Sir."

He put a hand between her legs, and lightly stroked her
there. "Your sex is dripping for me,
ma petite.
You are frightened
and powerless, bound and spread before me. I can do anything I wish to you,
n'est-ce
pas
? You are here for my pleasure. Yet the submissive within enjoys this,
yes?"

Jennifer's body shook in small, uncontrollable tremors,
as if she was suffering from intense cold. "Yes, Sir. It's…I.."

"Tell me," he coaxed in a soothing French
murmur. "This position of bondage and helplessness, it is unnerving, yes?

"I'm scared to death, yet I'm also excited and
completely turned on. I don’t understand it, Sir. I've never felt anything like
this before in my life."

"Thank you,
ma petite
. You have pleased your
Dom with your honesty. You are a novice. I do not disregard this fact."

He gave the chain attached to her nipple clamps a little
tug, while caressing between her legs. Jennifer moaned and her eyes closed for
a moment. André nodded with satisfaction.

"The sensations I create, they are a little
distraction," he said, and then took a step back from her, commanding all
her attention.

"Listen to me now, Jennifer."

Her eyes flew to his.

"I am going to punish you, for you lied to me and you
have broken a most important rule. For me the greatest value of the BDSM
lifestyle is the lack of deceit. Honesty is beyond price and I will have it
from you. To speak falsely is a violation of our contract. I refuse to dominate
a submissive that lies to me."

This merciless threat hit its mark. Jennifer whitened as
the blood left her face. Obviously she prized whatever knowledge and training André
had promised to give her.

He returned to the armoire and brought back a spreader
bar and a riding crop. He dropped the crop on the dark wooden floor. He then
began to fasten the bar between her legs, explaining all the while what it was.

André had clearly done this many times before, because
she had been drawn up to the perfect height. Her feet were steady on the
ground, her arms raised over her head. He clipped the spreader bar to two bolts
holding to the floor so that she couldn’t swing. Jennifer, Marcy decided,
wasn’t going anywhere.

André picked up the riding crop, and she looked at him
nervously with wide and anxious eyes. He trailed it from her collar bone, between
her breasts, down to her stomach. "Do you admit that you lied to your Dom?"
he said with soft menace.

"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir."

"And you lie to your husband often, too, I
suppose?"

"I… don't always lie. Sometimes I just… well I avoid
telling him the truth, Sir."

"Then it is a diversion? A lie of omission?"

"Um… yes, Sir."

"You love your husband, yet you come to me as you
are not sexually satisfied, yes?"

"Yes, Sir. That's why Charles and I came to you."

"Jennifer," he said in a tone of reprimand.
"Never be afraid to talk of what you crave. You should speak honestly to
the man you married, a man that cares for you."

He stepped closer, and put a hand around her throat,
pulling just slightly at her collar. It was a subtle message, proof that for
now, she was a possession. That André owned her.

"Shall I tell you why you do not enjoy sex, Jennifer?
Deceit is a barrier to intimacy. Do you know your husband? Does he know you? The
intentionally spoken lie, and deliberately omitting to speak the truth – these
are equal failings for success of the relationship. This lack of intimacy
prohibits pleasure,
comprenez vous
?
How can two people be close enough to honestly enjoy
one another if all is pretense?"

Marcy paused the video,
rewound and heard those words once more.

Oh my God.

The realization was
shattering. Trent was a chronic liar and he also avoided telling her so many
things. Marcy understood that now. But what about her? Years of pretending to
enjoy sex when she hated it, making excuses to dodge it, and never once talking
about the problem.

True, talking to Trent about
anything was virtually impossible. Yet, Marcy saw now that some of their
marriage failures could be placed on her head. If she had tried to reach Trent,
and found he couldn’t be honest and expose himself to her, then she would have smartened
up and divorced Trent sooner for a start.

André's earlier words echoed in her head:
"Some
people lie in all things; they hide, conceal and pretend. Such are long term
habits, you understand, often routine behaviors that they are unaware of.
No
one really knows them, for they let no one in."

Marcy's earliest memories were of keeping the peace. She
hated confrontation. Her dad was a yeller - easily irritated and annoyed with
her – not unlike Trent, actually. Had she married a mean version of her father?
Her childhood was spent desperately trying to gain her father's approval. Being
a "good girl" – being exactly what he wanted, rather than who and what
she
was
.

Of course in life she would naturally use the same habits
she had learned as a kid.

As an adult she had always been quiet and self-contained,
doing anything to avoid arguments. Marcy hadn't told Trent that she intended to
conceive, because she was afraid he would say no.

"Lack of intimacy prohibits pleasure,"
that is what André had said. Marcy knew that she longed for intimacy, for that
relief that came from being able to be totally oneself with another. It was
being comfortable enough with someone not to hide. To be exactly who you are.

Why couldn't she be honest with Mike? Fear of losing him,
fear of him scorning her failure and stupidity. Pity perhaps? What if she couldn’t
climax? Mike might despise himself, too. She didn’t want to hurt him.

Marcy was not a risk taker. That was the bottom line. She
didn't have the courage that Jennifer had.

I've been a coward when it comes to sex,
Marcy realized.
I have a habit of avoiding or even lying in order to be
'safe.' That has to stop if I want to be happy. I'll never have the intimacy I
long for if I continue to hide.

When Marcy recovered from
this cathartic moment, she hit play again. Poor Jennifer was about to get whipped
with a riding crop. It was supposed to be a punishment. Marcy figured that
André wouldn’t go easy. Not when his sub had lied to him.

The video came on.

"
Eh bien.
" Jennifer, I am going to give
you five painful strikes on your most beautiful
derrière
. They will hurt
very much, and you will count each one. When I am finished, you will thank me
for disciplining you and all will be forgiven. You may speak freely for now,
ma
petite
. And you may make any sound you wish."

He waiting for a moment, and then ran his hand down her
arm from elbow to shoulder. "Nothing to say? Very well. Don't forget to
count."

"Crack,"

"Ow! One!" Jennifer screamed.

"Crack"

"Two!"

He stopped after three, blew cool air on the red welts of
her buttocks and soothed them with gentle fingers. Jennifer was breathing
rapidly, her eyes wide, snapped open and aware with each strike. A bright sheen
of sweat covered her body. Tears flowed, running down her face. Her nose was
running too. She looked unhappy, tense, frightened and uncomfortable.

André seemed to think that this was all normal.

As Marcy watched, she became aware of something else. The
pain had awakened Jennifer, too, somehow. Exposing her fully. Stripping her
down to her essential self.

"
Ma petite
," André said with gentle
reassurance. "You are doing so very well. You have never been struck on
the buttocks?"

"No, Sir. Never."

"No? Not even as a child?"

"Not even then, Sir."

A string of incomprehensible French was his response. "
Mon
Dieu!
How bravely you suffer this torment! I am most proud of you. Tell me
now, how do you feel?"

"Vulnerable. Exposed…. ashamed," she said with
a hitching breath.

"Such a perfect truth, spoken from your oh so
beautiful lips," he said, his hand circled her nape and her collar in a calming,
yet possessive manner. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and with capable
and pragmatic skill, wiped her face and nose.

"It is not difficult to speak to me, do you see?"
he said pressing a kiss her on the forehead and tucking the handkerchief back
in his jacket. "I am very understanding with anything you say. That you
feel helpless and exposed pleases me. You are my sub, and as such you shall be
completely open to me. Yet you need not be ashamed. You have learned a very
important lesson this day. For you will speak only truth to me from now on,
oui
?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"
he said. The tone of his voice was deep with admiration. "To see you like
this, cuffed and spread wide, your nipples clamped, your pussy swollen, flushed
and weeping for my cock. There are three burning red welts on your ass, proof
of your complete surrender. Right now you are every Dom's dream."

Jennifer responded to André's seductive voice. Marcy
could almost see her heart lift.

"To see my collar on you and to know that you have
given me the gift of your submission…" André shook his head. "You are
so courageous; so very desirable,
ma petite
. I am going to give you the
last two strikes now. Put your beautiful
derrière
out for me. Do not
flinch or pull back. Accept these strikes. Welcome this pain for it ends your
punishment. It also gives your Dom great pleasure. Can you do this for
me?"

"Yes, Sir," she said and even though her voice
trembled, there was confidence and pride there, too.

André gently caressed the red welts on her buttocks. Then
his jaw tightened and his dark eyes glittered as he raised his arm.

"Crack!"

"Four!"

"Crack!"

"Five!"

True to her word, Jennifer pushed her bottom out and fully
accepted his last two strikes. Then she thanked him for disciplining her.

"So very beautiful," André murmured. "You
are forgiven,
ma petite
. You have pleased your Dom." He blew cool
air on her stripes, and soothed and made much of her.

To Marcy's astonishment André actually got Jennifer to giggle
as he described the thin red welts across her "most innocent untouched ass"
with enthusiastic and extravagant detail and praise. The "crimson contrast"
against her "white flesh" apparently added to the "magnificence
and beauty" of her "oh so generously rounded buttocks."

"For now, Jennifer," André said. "You are
mine to care for, to arouse, and to punish. It is time to answer my question,
ma
petite
," he said. "What man did you fantasize about and attempt to
hide from me? For you must conceal nothing from your Dom. What sex were you
having?"

Jennifer bit her lip. André let her think about it, while
he bent to remove the spreader bar from between her legs. She shifted her feet
together, clearly more comfortable.

He raised his eyebrows in query.

"I was thinking of you, Sir. I was imagining having
sex with you."

"Very good," he said without surprise.
"And what was I doing that brought you to climax?"

Jennifer's breasts rose as she inhaled a deep gulp of air.
"Anal sex...Sir."

"Ah," he nodded. "You have enjoyed anal
sex before?"

"Never, Sir."

André's smile grew wider. "The thought of violating
your virgin ass,
ma petite?
" he said in a low, rough, lust-filled
voice. "Such a gift would bring me quickly to climax as well. I would very
much like to introduce you to that pleasure. Tell me why you were ashamed of
this fantasy?"

"I was reluctant to admit that I was attracted to
you, but I think that mainly I was humiliated about the anal thing. It's so
embarrassing! And so stupid. I'd probably hate it, but it's something my mind
just keeps coming back to. I can't get the idea out of my head. You're right
that I was afraid. I've never told Charles that it interests me... Sir."

"Why not?"

"I felt ashamed," she said, with a worried look
on her face. "I thought he might be disgusted, Sir. Do you think he'll
think I'm a pervert?"

André's quick happy laugh surprised Jennifer. Her
troubled look dropped away. "Charles will most certainly not be disgusted,
ma petite
. He has fantasies that he has hidden from you, too."

André was absently fondling Jennifer's breasts and
nipples while talking. What was that about? It seemed a strange activity to
Marcy, perhaps like stroking the ears of a dog.

"Consensual adult sex," André said, "that
causes no harm should never be considered perverse. Human beings are curious
creatures. Their curiosity is one of the most admirable things about them. These
issues will all be addressed,
ma petite
. With honest communication all will
be resolved."

Marcy's gaze was drawn to André's hand once more. That
mechanical, careless touch of his fingers to Jennifer's breasts was
extraordinarily erotic. Marcy's stomach tightened, and heat pooled between her
legs. André treated Jennifer's body as his possession, something there solely for
his own pleasure.

Marcy felt an odd and unexpected longing to have Mike
fondle her that way.

"And now, Jennifer," he said. "I will
reward you for three things. First, for your submission. As a novice you are
proving to be most courageous. Second, for your truthfulness in speaking of these
secrets for which you felt such unnecessary shame. And finally for your bravery
in accepting the crop. You could have called your safe word and refused it,
Jennifer. There would have been no dishonor in this. Why didn’t you?"

"I deserved it, Sir. It was stupid to lie."

He gave her a triumphant smile. "Just so."

"You knew that I wouldn’t call my safe word, didn't
you, Sir?" Jennifer gave a tentative smile back at him. "That I felt like
I needed to be chastened?"

"I did," he said and his voice was deep and
seductive. "And I knew also that I would very much enjoy punishing
you." He made no attempt to hide how aroused he had become. "Tell me,
did accepting the crop excite you?"

"Yes, Sir… it did," she said in a low, husky
voice.

"Because you enjoy pain?"

"No, Sir, I didn't like that at all."

"
Bon."
André's eyes darkened. "Do
you know why you were aroused,
ma petite?"

"I think so, Sir," she whispered.

"Tell me."

"Because, Sir, disciplining me pleased you."
She paused and licked her lips. "And pleasing you turned me on like
nothing ever has before."

André gave her an intense expression that contained equal
amounts of both lust and exultation.
"
Vous êtes une
belle femme magnifique!
Such a very clever sub,
ma petite
.
Most
clever."

He leaned over, and with one strong hand he gripped her cheek
and jaw. The other hand fisted her hair. He held her in place then, taking a
kiss from her, deep and commanding, in exactly the manner he wished. There was strong
male arousal and excitement in the way he held her.

Jennifer moaned and pushed toward him, pulling against
her chains in a passionate response.

Holy shit.
Marcy swallowed, and
found herself wondering. Would Mike kiss her in a similar manner? And what
would it feel like to be on the receiving end of such an overwhelming kiss?

That surprised her, but there was no doubt about it.
Marcy was becoming sexually aroused. This unadulterated lust was a trigger for
sure. But so was that connection and honesty between two people. That drew her
attention like nothing else.

In her heart of hearts she knew if she was brave enough,
she could have that with Mike. It would be risky and an act of trust to jump
off that cliff. Could she allow herself to fall in love again? Yet things were
different now. Marcy was a grown woman, and Mike was no Trent.

"And now I am going to reward you,
ma petite,
"
André said gruffly. "For if you continue to please me, and perhaps beg…
just a little, then I will allow you to climax."

Marcy's body grew warmer and warmer the more she watched.