Restraint (9 page)

Chapter Seven

“When you can withstand the
punishment
, then you are the one in control.”

Catherine’s heart pounded so hard she could hear it in her ears. Lydia had come in earlier to bathe her and Catherine had noticed the maid spreading out a variety of oddities which included colorful vials of liquid, yet another long, slender black leather dildo and a cat-o’-nine-tails made out of shimmering black silk. At once, her sex had begun to throb and now all she could do was wait to see what Thomas had in store for her.

Lydia had secured the blindfold once more before she left, but Catherine could not comprehend why she had not been tied. She stood with her bare feet sinking into the plush Persian rug.

A finger trailed down the hollow between her breasts and Catherine instinctively took the step that brought her closer to Thomas. He brushed a kiss across her lips, leaving her desperately wanting more.

“I want you to know,” he said, his voice strange and low, “Robert Wallingford has the reputation of being a sadist. He will require you to submit to him.”

Catherine rankled. “Never.”

“If you marry him, you will have no choice.”

Her throat constricted and she wanted to cry. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and beg him to keep her here.

A tender palm cupped her cheek. “I can teach you how to take pleasure in the things he will do to you, Catherine. Will you let me?”

The image of the things Lydia had lain out earlier flashed through her thoughts. The idea of delving into the unknown with Thomas was strangely exciting.

“Let me,” he said again. “This has to be your choice.”

Still, fear tingled up her spine. What would he do to her? Her breathing quickened. Her insides tightened and wetness rushed between her legs. Could she submit to this?

She squeezed her thighs together and recalled the spanking he’d given her only days ago. She had enjoyed it. A hot blush flooded her face. She had enjoyed being spanked. But oddly, it had not been humiliating—it had been
liberating
. She had found pleasure in the act of having her will stripped away. And she would find it again tonight.

“Yes.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes,” she said resolutely.

Quivering with fear and excitement—and desire—she stood, waiting and anticipating as she listened to Thomas cross the floor. Her mouth went dry. Her heart beat in her throat. Her pussy pulsated with expectation.

“Bend over and touch your toes.” It was a command.

Catherine gasped. Paralyzing fear flooded her being. His voice had sounded so forceful, so unyielding.

When she hesitated, he said, louder, “Do it!”

With no doubt that he meant it, a trembling Catherine bent at the waist and touched her toes.

“Spread your legs.”

Her hard little hillock was so ripe she thought she’d explode if he touched her.

She readily obeyed.

“Wider.”

His booted foot slipped between hers and he nudged her feet impossibly wide apart. “Yes, that’s it. Show yourself to me, Catherine. Open yourself.”

She didn’t understand. A little slap landed on her buttocks and she gasped. “With your fingers,” he commanded. “Open your greedy little mouth for me.”

This was not what she had envisioned at all. This was thoroughly mortifying. But even still, her slit ached impossibly and she complied, reaching between her legs and spreading open the slippery folds of her labia.

“If you weren’t blindfolded, I’d make you watch yourself in a mirror. You’re beautiful this way, Catherine. Open and ready. All pink and glistening.”

She became utterly self-conscious, knowing he was looking at her most intimate places. He had dropped to his knees and she could feel his breath fanning the backs of her thighs.

And then she felt something thick and moist being spread over her lower lips—something that set her aflame. His finger slipped some of the goo into her
cunny
and then he slathered her anus with it as well, the tip of his finger violating that little aperture as well with the sensitizing cream.

Catherine shuddered and struggled to maintain her vulnerable position. She desperately wanted his fingers inside her, in both openings. She pushed back against his hand but when he removed it, she was left aching and cold. She shivered.

Her blood grew thick in her veins and coursed heavily through her body. This was maddening. She attempted to press her thighs together but another sound slap landed on her buttocks. “Keep those legs apart.”

“But—”

“What is it, Catherine? What do you want?”

There was no dignity in this. She couldn’t even pretend there was—and she absolutely
loved
it. “I want you to fuck me.”

His palm caressed her backside. “Only bad girls want to be fucked. Are you a bad girl, Catherine?”

“I suppose I am.” She tried to straighten but he pushed her back down.

“Well, well. Not only are you a bad girl, you’re sarcastic as well. Do you need to be punished?”

Willingly, she began to play his game. Her pulse rioted. “I need to be fucked.”

A harder slap fell across her buttocks followed by a tender caress that elicited a moan from Catherine. His fingertips grazed her gaping, aching lower lips.

She shook violently and tried to move more fully toward his hand but he drew it away. “You know better than that,” he said. “Tell me you’ve been bad. Tell me you need to be punished.”

Catherine gnawed her bottom lip. The blood was rushing to her head and her legs strained and burned. The balm he’d slathered up and down her cleft was driving her crazy. But no matter how aroused she was, she could never
ask
him to punish her.

“Say it.” He popped her rear again.

Warmth spread through her buttocks. She wanted to twitch and squeeze her thighs together, to touch herself. But she could not ask him to punish her.

“Please let me up,” she whispered.

Again, his palm fell on the swell of her bottom, stinging, flaming—and feeling oh-so wonderfully good. Catherine moaned loudly.

Why was she enjoying this? How could she? This was perverse. She had never dreamed two people would do these things together. Yet, it was as if by being in total control, Thomas was giving her permission to enjoy something she had been told was shameful her entire life.

“Ask me to discipline you, Catherine.”

She tried to swallow but couldn’t. If she stood this way any longer she would split in two. “Yes,” she said, shocked by her complete surrender. “Yes, Thomas, punish me.”

“Why?”

She wanted to scream from frustration. Why did he torture her so? Heat inflamed her cheeks. “Because I’m a bad girl,” she said, truly feeling bad in every sense of the word. She wiggled her bottom at him.

He patted her backside. “On your knees.”

Readily, she complied and sank to her hands and knees. It occurred to her that she was fantasizing about him tying her hands behind her back and spanking her into submission. But it seemed he had other plans.

“Oh no, Catherine. It’s not going to be that easy.”

Her heart hammered. Spasms racked her aching pussy.

“Hold your breasts up and bend over. Spread your legs. Wide.”

The muscles in her thighs strained as she fought to hold the position of kneeling with her backside in the air and her breasts in her hands. She’d never held herself this way before and was surprised at the full, soft firmness. Her fingertips found her nipples and she instinctively squeezed until she gasped.

And then she felt him spreading wide the cleft of her buttocks and felt something hard and insistent pressing against her anal aperture. She tensed.

“Relax, love.”

Fingers kneaded her clitoris and Catherine found herself loosening and slowly, a slender, lubricated dildo slid inside her anus.

She groaned and trembled, squeezing her own breasts in her hands, wanting to rock back and forth, wanting him to fuck her with it. But instead, she felt it being snugly pushed into place and then to her horror, she discerned that he was keeping it there with some sort of leather strap he belted tightly between her legs and around her waist.

No. No. She wanted to feel it moving in and out of her. She shook her backside trying to assuage this wild sexual desire. This was maddening!

“Now, kneel up for me, Catherine. And don’t take your hands off your breasts. Hold them up high. Higher.”

She felt like a circus dog being forced to perform. The dildo up her bum made her want to squirm, but oddly, it wasn’t enough. She positioned her anus over her heels and pushed the dildo up tighter in her rear. She wanted something more—something bigger.

Suddenly, something soft but biting slashed across her distended nipples. She squealed. It hardly hurt but it made her so aware and so fucking aroused. Her head swam. She swayed. The leather strap between her legs strained against her swollen nubbin and she rocked her hips furiously against it.

Again, the silken cat-o’-nine struck her breasts.

“Yes!” She heard herself moan as she held her breasts out for more.

And this time, it was Thomas who complied. He gave her all she wanted, flicking the little whip across her
pinkened
nipples time and time again.

She was beautiful and so absolutely gorgeous with her red bottom lip pressed between her teeth and her forehead furrowed in an intense mixture of pleasure-pain.

She threw her head back. Her long raven tresses brushed the floor. The ivory column of her throat gleamed in the dim candlelight.

Her mouth opened and she moaned his name and he knew she was coming. He’d never seen a woman respond to domination this way. He’d seen them play along, even get excited by the taboo nature of it, but Catherine thrived on it.

Still, this was nothing in comparison to what Wallingford would do to her.

Bugger her in the
arse
.

Goddamn.

Thomas freed his aching cock from the constraints of his trousers and took the step that closed the distance between them. Seizing Catherine by the hair, he pulled her head to him and thrust his arousal between her lips. Readily, she accepted him, greedily sucking, bringing her hands up to grasp his buttocks and hold him against her while she sucked his impossibly hard cock.

He was going to explode. It took all his will power to pull himself away from her avaricious little mouth. He wasn’t ready to come just yet.

And as if Catherine had read his mind, she furiously unbelted the leather straps and tossed the apparatus aside. “Fuck me, Thomas. If you won’t fuck my
cunny
then by God, fuck my rear and fuck it now!”

He pulled her up to him, crushing her body against his and kissed her hungrily before sinking them both back down and twisting her around so that her buttocks were against his hips. On her hands and knees, she wriggled and squirmed as he positioned his cock at the opening of her well-lubricated anus.

“Yes, yes,” she breathed the words. “I want you inside me. Fuck me, Thomas.”

He prodded and pushed and sank into her tight, slick hole, just holding himself there. He knew if he moved he’d come and he wanted to savor this. God it felt good! Hot. He shifted, pushing all the way in.

Perspiration beaded on Catherine’s back and she trembled. He wanted to ask if he was hurting her but she began to move, slowly, gingerly. Holding her hips, he pressed against the swell of her buttocks with gentle thrusts, knowing in the back of his mind Wallingford would not be so considerate. Should he give her a taste of what she could expect from her husband-to-be? He couldn’t.

But then she began begging him in blunt, unladylike language. “Harder. Fuck me harder. Faster!”

He dug his fingers into the softness of her hips and squeezed, knowing he was leaving bruises but unable to stop as he plowed into her. Catherine gasped and cried out, encouraging him to continue.

But it was too much.

She was too much.

She convulsed, tightening forcefully around him, dropping her shoulders to the floor. Her hair splayed wildly across the crimson rug. Thomas pushed once more and exploded, groaning as he came deep inside her.

As he sank down his weight pushed her to the floor. His cock was still buried and pulsating in her rear. He knew he had to move. He had to be crushing her but his body was limp. Pushing himself up, he tried to move but she protested. “No, Thomas. Hold me this way. Don’t take it out.”

How could he refuse? He scooped his arms around her and turned her onto her side so that her body spooned his. She shifted, pushing back against his still-hard cock.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No,” she whispered, placing his free hand over her breast. “Do it again.”

* * * * *

Sated and blissfully exhausted, Catherine lay outstretched in her bed while Thomas rubbed a spicy-smelling lotion over every inch of her body. After he’d taken her again, he’d bathed her, dried her and then carried her to the bed.

She’d never known pain could be so fulfilling, so liberating. From now on, she thought with a wicked smile, she would request a spanking daily.

“What are you smiling about?” Thomas asked as he massaged lotion into one of her thighs.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Well, what we just did.” The mention of it made a blush warm her cheeks.

His hands moved to her calf and he kissed her toes as he kneaded her leg and ankle. “You liked that, did you?”

She giggled. “Wasn’t it obvious?”

But his tone erased her smile. “It will always be that way with Wallingford. And he won’t concern himself with whether he’s hurting you or not.”

Catherine swallowed.

“But I wanted you to learn that the one who
receives
the punishment, is the one who wields the power.”

She envisioned submitting to Robert and shuddered. It would never be this way with him. It would be lurid and awful.

It would be humiliating.

Perhaps if she didn’t offer him a challenge, he would tire of her and take on a mistress. And after her father’s debts were paid, she would leave him. She would leave him and search high and low for Thomas.