She was arched up, wantonly moving her ass, begging for release with her motions, when he grasped the plug and pulled it out in one quick motion.
"Fuck!"
Without warning, he struck her five times, the flat of his hand making contact from the base of her pussy to her clit with each strike. When he stopped he quietly said, “No words, pet."
Soft music, with no discernible beat threatened to lull her to sleep as oiled hands touched her feet and a gentle breeze blew over her body, the scent of vanilla tickling her senses.
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Chapter Eight
* * * *
Dana awoke to light filtering through pale chiffon, and thought she'd awakened into a dream. As her memories came flooding back she recognized the huge bed in Zach's playroom, with the curtains pulled around it, blocking the view of the equipment.
She wasn't blindfolded, and was completely dry—even her hair. She didn't move for a while, luxuriating in the dreamy feel of her surroundings, totally relaxed, though a little sore from the lengthy fucking in the pool.
A note, written in large letters, was pinned to the inside of the draped fabric. Ring the bell and get onto the piece of equipment you want to be fucked on next. Wait for me there.
Familiar with his playroom, she made a quick walkthrough in her head. He hadn't given a hint of whether she'd be permitted to orgasm this time, nor of how long she might have to wait for him. The gyno table, flat on her back, would be the best if she'd be there awhile, and if she wouldn't be allowed to come. But if she didn't have to wait, and he'd let her orgasm, she'd much prefer to be bent over one of the spanking benches and fucked from behind.
She decided on the gyno table, though she used the restroom before climbing on and placing her heels in the stirrups. She wasn't there long, open and exposed, before he entered the room.
He spoke crisply, without raising his voice. “Was there anything on the note about using the restroom before following instructions?"
Not sure if she was allowed speech, she shook her head no, but felt the need to call a time out —she hadn't agreed to bathroom restrictions.
"Ottoman. Can I talk, please?"
"Of course. Sit up, if you'd like."
Realizing he had a point, she pulled her legs out of the stirrups and sat, looking at him from closer to eye level.
"I needed to go, you weren't around. We haven't discussed bathroom restrictions, and when I first wake up I almost always have to go right away."
He relaxed his shoulders and exhaled with a sigh. “You're right; we haven't—and that's an oversight we'll need to fix—but for now I'd prefer you wait for permission. Until we can negotiate, I won't say no, but you understand why you can't just get up and walk away during a scene, right?"
She nodded, as she had no problems making the request, as long as he was there to ask. She wanted clarification, though.
"I can ask permission even when there are speech restrictions?"
"Do you know the sign language for toilet?” He bent his arm and made a fist near his shoulder, rotating it from left to right as he asked the question. She repeated it and he showed his hand, with his thumb between his first two fingers. She did it again and he nodded.
"If you're restrained then politely ask to use the restroom. If your hands are free then make sure I'm looking and sign your request. We'll work on please later. Does that work?"
"Yes, and if you aren't around and I need to go, I will."
He was quiet a lengthy couple of seconds before saying, “If you believe I'll return in the next few minutes and can wait, I'd prefer you hold it until permission can be obtained. You had no way of knowing how long you'd be there until I came, so I'll agree it was okay under the circumstances. I'll try to remember to give authorization when you awaken in the future."
He ran his hands through his hair. “You've been caged for extended periods, how did you handle this while put away?"
Dana's face flamed red and she dropped her eyes to her feet. “I... I don't want to talk about it, now. Please."
His finger touched her chin, a gentle request to look at him. Instead of tilting her head, she leaned forward and buried her face in his chest. He'd put jeans and a tee shirt on, and she clung to him, the cotton against her cheek.
His voice rumbled through his chest. “If we make it to the cage, and I believe you're hoping we do, I'll find a way to keep you there on my schedule, not yours. Bodily functions are perfectly normal, and you'll have to learn not to be embarrassed about any part of your body around me. I've given you privacy so far, but you have to know that won't last forever, right?"
She nodded, glad he wasn't insisting she tell him her husband had made her pee in a diaper, and for extended periods had sometimes catheterized her. He'd give her a series of enemas and insert a catheter, and she wouldn't need a bathroom for days.