In His Cuffs(6)

She worked down the ankle straps of her platform shoes then kicked them  aside. The movement caused the clamps to sway, so she moved a bit  slower.

"Beautiful," he approved. "Nothing pleases me more than this."

"Mr Tomlinson?"

"Your femininity. Your graceful motions."

Under his scrutiny, she removed the panties. She stood before him in nothing but the garter belt and black stockings.

"Nicely groomed," he said.

From his tone, she couldn't tell whether he approved of her shaving or not. She settled for saying, "Yes."

"I like my subs completely naked so I can see every red mark. Remove the  rest of your lingerie if you please, Ms Carpenter, so we can get on  with it."

She released each clasp and rolled down her stockings, one at a time,  again taking care to minimise extra movements. Then she unfastened the  hook behind her waist. She allowed the last of her garments to pool on  the floor.

Under the scrutiny of his intense gaze, she fought the onslaught of nerves that urged her to cover herself.

"Very pretty," he said.

His tone sounded so sincere she believed him. Either that, or he was a  skilled Dominant who knew how to put a sub at ease. It didn't matter.  She gained confidence from his compliment.

"Turn all the way around. Slowly."

When she faced him again, he nodded in apparent satisfaction.

"As I've been fantasising about it, we're going to start with an old-fashioned over-the-knee spanking. But first … "

He stood again and retrieved some substantial-looking weights.

She reminded herself she'd given tacit agreement, but that didn't stop her from swallowing deeply as he approached her.

"I don't mind tears," he reminded her.

"Do you have onions in your pockets, Mr Tomlinson? That's the only way you'll see me cry."

"Defiant until the end, are you?"

Instead of immediately attaching them, he squeezed her breasts. Heat shot through her.

"I'm going to stroke your pussy."

Since he hadn't instructed her to part her legs or move, she stayed  where she was. He plumped one of her breasts while he slid a finger  between her labia. She felt herself becoming slicker as he masterfully  coaxed a response from her.                       
       
           



       

"Could you come from just this?"

"I …  I imagine I could, Mr Tomlinson." She wondered if he'd experiment, but he stopped and lowered his hand.

"I want you more aroused when I let you come."

"Of course, Sir." She'd been with enough Doms to know that some  preferred she wait. Others enjoyed making her come multiple times. In  case the evening didn't go as well as she hoped, she'd packed her trusty  vibrator in her overnight bag.

"Ready for the weights?"

"Yes, Mr Tomlinson."

He grinned at her. "I do like the way that sounds."

"Don't get accustomed to it past this evening. At work I'm going to start calling you David."

"Cheekiness earns you extra spankings."

"I'm not afraid."

His smile faded, and once again he was all stern and fierce. Part of her  knew she shouldn't torment him, that it was akin to pulling a tiger's  tail, but this side of her boss intrigued her. At work, she didn't dare  answer back. Her mother's future hung in the balance. But here …  There  was a certain freedom in being on footing that they both understood,  that had rules. If things felt out of control, she could use her safe  word. The truth was, for her, the dynamic they had elsewhere enhanced  the scene, adding an air of danger.

Dispassionately, he added the weights. She did a little dance as her nipples were dragged downwards.

"Damn, that's beautiful," he said.

"It hurts."

"When you're a bit more aroused, you'll forget about it," he promised.

Though she knew he was right and she often moved from one set to another  at home, having him in charge seemed to magnify the experience. She  closed her eyes and gritted her teeth.

"Would you like to use your slow word in order to have me remove them?"

Maggie considered his question. She liked being pushed past what she  thought she could endure. The pressure was tolerable, and she suspected  it would enhance her spanking. And she knew it was one more experience  she could relive while she masturbated during the coming weeks. Some  things that she had disliked at the time added memorable detail to her  fantasies. "Thank you for asking, Mr Tomlinson. I'm fine."

He fisted the chain and drew her onto her toes. She gasped for air, but damn, it turned her on as well.

"You're a perfect princess," he told her.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to surrender rather than struggle against the pain.

Suddenly he released his grip, but he captured her shoulders to steady her as she balanced again on her bare feet.

When she looked at him, she saw his gaze was intent, focused on her  face. He had apparently been honest earlier when he'd said he would  watch and enjoy her suffering.

Of all the Doms on the planet, she would never have expected to want to  please him. But the look of approval in his deep, thoughtful eyes sent a  shiver of submissive recognition through her.

"Now for that spanking."

He took her wrist and drew her with him to the chair. He sat. Her mouth  dried. She could ask for a drink of water, but she knew it wouldn't  help. She was parched from the sudden onslaught of trepidation, nothing  more. For a moment, just a moment, she wondered if she'd been smart to  goad him earlier. Now she was having second thoughts about exposing her  buttocks to a man who obviously relished the idea of reddening her skin.

Suddenly this seemed all too real. It was more complex than her usual  scene where she would say, ‘I've been bad, Sir, please punish me'.  Rather, this had the knife-edge of reality added to it.

Releasing her, he said, "Over my knee, Maggie."

She moved towards him. He offered a hand for support, but he didn't grip  her. Symbolically he was letting her know it was her choice.

He helped her into position.

The weights on her clamps pulled her breasts and nipples towards the floor-the pain was relentless.

Beneath her belly, his thighs felt strong. He was an unyielding Dom. The  denim was rough against her skin, and the coolness from his handcuffs  teased her hip for a fraction of a second.

He jostled her so she was more secure. He placed his large palm in the middle of her back.

She expected him to trap her legs between his, but he didn't.

"I want to see you flail. If you try to get away, I want to drag you  back. A little resistance from the fairer sex does me good."

He traced a finger up the inside of her right thigh, making her tremble.  He flitted across her pussy, sliding just a fingertip inside her.

"Such a responsive princess."

He rubbed her thighs and buttocks with light motions. As he continued, he used a bit more force.                       
       
           



       

She tried to relax, but anxiety held her motionless.

He didn't ask if she was ready, instead he swatted her hard. She cried  out from the impact and she squirmed, making the clamps jump. "Damn."

"We haven't even started."

It certainly felt like it to her.

He smacked her again, burning her buttocks.

"Your skin turns pink quickly. Do you bruise?"

Without waiting for an answer, he seared her skin again, this time on her right thigh.

Though she had intended to remain still and calmly take anything he  gave, she flailed about. Each motion jerked her breasts, increasing the  agony in her nipples.

He shocked her by moving her onto her side so that she was facing him. The position changed the angle of his impact.

For self-preservation, she curled against him. The dichotomy awed  her-she was seeking stability from his body while he mercilessly beat  her.

"Your ass was made for this," he told her.

He rained painful spanks across her rear. She drank in great gulps of  air, trying to reach a peaceful space deep inside her head. Normally  when she received this kind of physical stimulation, she was able to  exult in it. David-the Dom-didn't afford her that luxury. His smacks  were random, some horrible, others almost gentle. He didn't pause  between them. Instead he blazed them everywhere, keeping her on edge.  Her brain couldn't process the information fast enough to figure out  where he was going to strike next. She was wading in darkened waters,  yet she didn't want to end it.

He spanked the tender flesh below her buttocks. The force jolted her.  The weights jangled together and she was assaulted by gripping pain. As a  way to centre herself, she tried to count the hits, but she was unable  to. This man brought determination to everything he did.

Almost without her noticing, he slowed down the number of spanks.

Warmth bathed her body.