Submissive Desires (18 page)

You couldn’t let me think about that for a while before springing a palimony agreement on me?” He looked as if the thought had never occurred to him, and she wasn’t in the least surprised. “The word

‘finesse’ has absolutely no meaning to you, does it?”

He flushed – it was the first time she’d seen him do anything resembling a blush. “I figured you would want to make an informed decision, and know exactly where I was coming at this from.”

“Yeah. From a lawyer’s office.”

The mood had pretty much been killed by his little bombshell, so they packed up and left. He escorted her to his car, stowed her suitcase for her, and then practically buckled her into her seat before closing the car door and squatting down next to the open window. The agreement had remained amidst the remnants of their interrupted meal until he picked it up and put it back into his pocket.

“Call me when you get home, honey.”

“I will.”

She wasn’t in a full pout, which he would have been more prepared to handle, but just seemed rather sad and almost defeated. He didn’t like it at all, especially since he knew he’d been the cause of it.

“Kiss me,” he ordered, wanting to recapture some of the fiery magic they’d shared only hours before.

Maura leaned towards him and did as he asked, and it was not a withheld kiss. He would have been able to spot that a mile away because she’d been so naked and abandoned with him, especially this weekend, that even if she’d just had her usual natural reticence he would have noticed.

It was a lovely, passionate kiss that he returned with considerable interest, and when he finally pulled away, he realized that nothing had changed. There was still that indefinable sadness in her eyes and around those expressive lips.

Well, he thought to himself, there wasn’t much he could do about it now. He’d put his cards on the table. He wasn’t the type to beat about the bush, and he thought she would know that. “Drive carefully, hear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

No sarcasm, no attitude at all.

And somehow, that was worse.

She drove off, and he found himself standing and staring long after her car had disappeared from view.

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He hadn’t blindfolded her . . . yet. She almost wished he had. She was bound, as usual, in the collar and cuffs she was almost always required to sleep in, the chain between each cuff and the collar severely shortened, and the collar itself attached by a small length to the eyebolt that he’d securely fastened into the wall discreetly behind the mattress of the big California king.

In short, she wasn’t going anywhere fast, although her ankles and legs were free, but she’d been told not to move them. Maura hated it when he gave her an order like that and then didn’t give her any help in obeying it, no matter how much pain he subjected her to. She would be expected to do as she was told and be still.

She watched him shuffling something around - couldn’t see what it was from her angle – but felt something touch her thigh accidentally. It must’ve been accidental on his part because it neither hurt nor gave her any pleasure.

This wasn’t a session that was the result of any sort of misbehavior on her part, nor was it a part of her weekly punishment session. This was what he referred to as a “training” session. They almost always ended up as a test of the level of her submission . . . as if he was interested in pushing the envelope of pain or pleasure she was able to take before begging for relief, or struggling against his efforts – against the imposition of his will. Sometimes, for no reason other than that he wanted to and could, he beat her very hard, always careful not to draw blood, but leaving her backside and the backs of her legs sore for as long as a week – and never failing to punish her physically afterwards if she disobeyed, despite their appearance.

Sometimes he attended to her breasts just as fiercely, until they were crisscrossed with thin, sore red lines from the almost baton-like cane he used on them routinely, as well as a flat-bowled wooded kitchen implement, that was like a small paddle he used almost exclusively on her nipples, especially after they’d been clamped for a long while and were extremely sensitive.

After blindfolding her completely using a thick cotton pad over each closed lid and then her disc-style blindfold over that, so that she truly had no ability to see anything – no shadows, no peeping out from under the bottom or over the top of it – nothing, he placed the unit near her hips, and connected the three things he was gong to use on her today – and probably every time he subjected her to this particular brand of amusement. Two were silver and quite obviously designed to be worn internally. The other looked like one of those patches they use when they’re doing an EKG . . .

Simon was between her legs, squeezing some lubricant into a bowl, then adding several shakes of salt. Maura lay there, essentially immobilized, dying to ask him what he was going to do, but he was not likely to be forthcoming at this juncture . . . or, really, any juncture. Simon could be annoyingly taciturn at times, especially when it came to her punishments. She usually had no idea what was going to happen to her, except beyond the fact that she was inevitably going to be reduced to tears by whatever it was - that was a given for any punishment he dished out.

He forced her legs further apart, to the point where her muscles had to strain to maintain the spread, making her lower body tense so that the insertions would be just that much more uncomfortable for her, because she was holding herself so tight. The butt-plug style dildo came first. It was not half as thick as it needed to be - only about an inch and a quarter in circumference - but he had to make due with what he had until he could scour the Internet for something more suitable for her – something that forced her bottom hole to stretch unpleasantly while he tortured her.

“Pull your legs up, girl,” he growled, his face very near her clit, so close she could feel his breath on her already swollen and leaking lips.

Maura did as she was told, hoisting her legs up and back, over her tummy, as if he was going to shave her or diaper her, which he had – on occasion, most often when they were taking a car trip –

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threatened to do. He was very diligent when he shaved her, always getting every possible hair away from her privates, and spent a humiliatingly long time inspecting her minutely while she dripped down onto the comforter. It was a position she absolutely detested, as well as being a hard one to maintain, and he knew that full well. Since she’d moved in with him, her stomach muscles had become rock hard, just from trying to stay in the sometimes unusual positions he required of her.

Besides how uncomfortable she found the position, it was even worse when he violated her bottom from this angle, as it wasn’t one she had much interest in, thus it was much more of a test of her submission than if she had been on her stomach or side. But he had absolutely no compunctions about what he was doing, and even less concern about whether or not she liked the way he posed her.

With no preparation whatsoever, she felt the broad head of something hard and cool pressed against her rosebud, sliding easily past the resistance she could not control from her own body. It was slick and smooth; its length filling her easily, her bottom naturally clamping down on the thinner end, automatically participating in her own torture.

A second probe was inserted into her pussy, and that did stretch her to the point of discomfort, but it was long enough that he could prop it against something –she didn’t know what – so that Maura would not be able to expel it, no matter how hard the spasms were that he was going to put her through.

The last thing he did was use a special ointment on a small pad that he then sealed onto her already swollen, begging clit. It was almost always impressively sized and hard as a little nub, and this time was no different. It jumped as he positioned it, probably not liking being covered one bit.

Simon smiled almost evilly. Her clit would be even more unhappy in just a minute.

“You can put your legs down now, but keep them spread.”

She obeyed immediately, knowing the consequences would be worse for her if she didn’t.

“This is going to be one of your harder sessions, Maura.” He loved the way she squirmed at his words. “It’s not going to leave a mark on you, but you’re going to be begging me to stop just the same.”

Mara shivered noticeably, then tried to still the small movement.

He gave her no quarter, starting the machine fairly low for safety’s sake, but cranking it ever higher as he watched her spasm and jerk, her terrified cries filling his ears and his mind, making him even harder than he’d been when he’d first told her to go into their bedroom and get ready for a session.

Watching her walk – slowly, almost dejectedly – to her punishment – but walking nonetheless, never failed to bring him to full-mast.

She was at a scream within minutes, and he kept her there as she danced to his tune and strained at her bonds, noting that notching it up even the slightest increased the volume of her wails. Up two more notches and she was begging for relief. Another slight bump and hysterical tears.

After a good long while of what must’ve been incredible pain, he brought her down and made some adjustments, inflicting intense pleasure instead, making her moan and beg for an entirely different reason.

He stretched out next to her, his mouth by her ear, the unit in his big hands so that he could control her world at his whim.

“Doesn’t that feel better, my Maura?”

She nodded, still hiccoughing sobs from the pain, unable to escape whatever he chose for her –

excruciating agony or intense, incredible pleasure. Her whole lower body was still tingling achingly with remembered misery, which only made her that much more sensitive to the terrible vibrations within her and at her poor defenseless clit as he forcibly pleasured her. It felt weird and awful – to be brought to such uncontrollable lows where she would have sold her soul to end her own suffering, and then to experience such tremendous and thorough ecstasy . . . all within seconds of each other.

Maura didn’t know if she could stand one more second of it, but then she didn’t have any choice.

This was what her dominant wanted to do to her. It was entirely his decision, and that had been her choice, once upon a time.

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And, despite what he was putting her through – or maybe because of it – she wouldn’t change her mind for anything, even right now, in them middle of a torturous wave of sensation.

He gave her a sixty-forty ratio of pain to pleasure, always announcing when he was going to throw her into agony so that it would be that much worse for her – so that she could do nothing but writhe in dreaded anticipation as the seconds of ecstasy ticked by, yielding inevitably to the torment that awaited her at his hands.

It was a long, slow afternoon of complete submission for her, one that he intended to repeat on a more regular basis. It helped to remind her – just as her weekly punishments did – that he owned her, and could do as he pleased, even to the point of putting her body through true torture.

He had set it to run in cycles at one point – hard cycles that would leave her exhausted – seven minutes of pain and only three of pleasure. He set the machine to beep just before switching from something that had her nearly orgasmic to something that had her very close to losing control of her bladder.

And then he withdrew from her.

She didn’t know if he left the room – she had tried to strain to hear the door – to hear anything.

But she couldn’t over her own hoarse shrieks. He could have been on the straight backed chair that resided in the corner of the room, where she was sent for punishments. Or he could have gone into Albuquerque, for all she knew, and left her like this, at the mercy of a merciless machine for Lord knows how long.

But, he did reward her in the end, although he wasn’t at all sure that Maura would have agreed that it was a reward. He brought her to a throbbing, crying orgasm without every once having touched her body. Maura did not like that at all. She craved his touch, even in discipline. To be touched in any way would always be better than what she’d just been made to endure.

This – this thing, whatever it was – made her feel – made her feel excruciating things. But with no heart and no soul.

She couldn’t stand it – wouldn’t stand it again.

But, deep in her heart, she knew she would.

For him.

Always for him.

He took her while she was still wearing the anal and clitoral devices, after making sure that they were well seated. Simon adjusted the settings to an incredibly powerful sexual stimulation, then putting an electrode at the base of his cock. The sex was extraordinary – he had two orgasms almost in a row, and Maura’s were literally innumerable.

When he finally turned the blasted thing off, it was with the last ounce of energy he possessed after rolling off her and undoing her wrists. Maura removed the blindfold herself, trying to keep her eyes open somewhat unsuccessfully, since the depth and strength of her orgasms with him almost always resulted in a desperate need for sleep.

But she wanted to see what it was that he’d use on her. It looked rather innocuous, but she knew better than that by a long shot.

It was a TENS unit, something she knew was usually used to alleviate muscle pain. It was often used in the course of physical therapy . . . only that certainly wasn’t going to be the case here. He had certainly used it to bring her considerable, unbelievable pain, and just as unbelievable pleasure.

“Well, that was a shocking experience,” he quipped wryly in that luscious deep tone of his.

They were the opposite of most couples – she was the one who absolutely had to sleep after sex.

She couldn’t believe how awake he was, no matter how hard it appeared that he had come. This time, she could barely summon the strength to groan at that statement, turning away from him to curl up on her side while her body was still tingling and contracting violently on its own, as if she hadn’t been released from that horrid machine’s touch.