Chapter Seven #2
That brought me up short. Was I? We'd discussed this several times.
My safeword was my way out, but not in the way it had been originally intended, which had been set for our time together.
Yes, I'd given him permission to be my tour guide and more while I was here, a Daddy in every aspect of the word, but since the attack at Dunnottar, the intention of that safeword had increased and become more about safety than about giving him the green light to do what he wished with my body during sex.
I'd agreed that if I wanted out, he'd have his private jet fly me wherever I wanted to go. Otherwise, I agreed to his protection and how he wished to instill it.
“If you are, then Graeme can drive you to the castle where you can gather your things and prepare for your flight; otherwise, you will leave with me now. Your choice.”
“I hate you!” I stomped my foot in the grass just as people passed us by on the wall. I closed my eyes, willing all the pressure to go away, when I felt his hand gently caress my cheek.
“Come on, my little flight risk. Let's go home. I think you've been overstimulated enough for one day.”
Is that what caused me to lose my shit—being overstimulated? It would have been nice to know that the night I'd tried to kill myself. Maybe I wouldn't have if I'd known that the despair I'd felt wasn't long-lasting but merely a reaction to severe circumstances. Why hadn't the therapists told me?
Artair leaned down and kissed me full on the lips. His hand gently squeezed my nape, and I wrapped my arms around him and hung on like my life depended on it, because in that moment, it really felt like it did. When he pulled away, I had to ask how he knew what professionals had missed.
“Luna, you have a very sensitive nature, and I watch you all the time.
You're either unconsciously trying to protect yourself or jumping all in with no resistance.
That speaks volumes to me about where you are in your head.
Remember, I'm a lawyer and have dealt with liars, sociopaths, and the like. You, my dear, are like fresh air in a world filled with things a whole lot worse than a kindhearted young woman guarding her heart.”
I ran that over in my mind on the drive back to the castle.
He was right about his observation, and I found relief in knowing I was seen and accepted for who I was.
Seeing me through his eyes offered the opportunity to not judge myself so harshly, and I was grateful for that.
No way in hell was I going to tell him, though!
Back at the castle, we had dinner first because by the time we arrived, we were both starving.
With my looming punishment, it was hard to eat, despite my hunger.
He'd told me I would run, and I did, but I'd honestly been very unaware of it.
I'd zoned out, and it was suddenly important that I know why I did that and how to stop it from happening.
This was separate in my mind from my childish reaction earlier; the wandering off and being unaware could be a problem. I hadn't always been like that, but ever since that toe-shoe incident with that client, I'd not been the same.
“You may be experiencing PTSD, if that's your question.”
“Huh?” I had been so busy thinking about the wandering and deciding how to ask him, and here he was reading my mind again. “PTSD? That sounds a little severe, doesn't it? I'm young, and shit happens; what on earth makes you think I may have something so serious?”
His eyes hardened slightly, meaning whatever he was about to share, he wanted me to get it loud and clear.
“What you're going through is serious, Luna. This person is trying to take advantage of you, threatening you, and invading your private life, all of which are the makings of what you're experiencing right now.”
I weighed his statement. I had never considered that I was the victim, which is why I ran instead of speaking with the school police or anyone else about what had been happening to me at the hands of a fellow student.
I always felt this was somehow a punishment for making money off a kink, that somehow it was wrong, dirty, and maybe what was happening was karma.
Him saying out loud that I was the victim and being so point-blank removed a weight I had been unaware I was carrying.
“You have a punishment coming, don't you, little girl?”
Was it normal to get so turned on by being called a little girl?
“Do you see that corner?” He pointed to the opposite side of the room where there had been a silk lemon tree that was now missing.
“Yes.”
“You will strip out of your clothing and stand in that corner with your hands behind your back, bottom out.”
His words were hypnotic, delivered with a devilish look in his eyes.
Whatever lay in store for me, I had no doubt I'd enjoy it.
His eyes were a weight on me as I stood and undressed.
The firelight cast interesting shadows in the room, but for some reason, completely lit up the corner where I was to stand like a halo of light.
He had planned this knowing I would fail.
I bit my lip to keep from yelling out, “No fair!” like a child and focused instead on the effect his growly directions had on my libido.
I had never been sent to a corner but had read about it in books.
The feelings it provoked were new, like everything I had been experiencing in my time with Artair.
With my backside sticking out and the utter silence that descended over the room, I became hyperaware of the heat from the fireplace and wondered how my ass looked in the light it cast. Did he like what he saw?
He always said he loved my ass. I had always thought it was one of my best assets, but that had never been confirmed or denied by men until him.
I was lost again in thoughts of past experiences when I felt a cool slickness being applied and liberally rubbed between my ass cheeks.
“Oh! It's cold!”
“It won't be long.” He pressed the gel deep inside and massaged the tight ring of muscle.
“Ohhh... that feels different.”
Artair didn't reply. A few seconds later, he pulled his hand away, and it was replaced by something even colder than the gel. I wanted to look but knew I shouldn't, as this was definitely the time to behave myself.
“I want you to take a deep breath, Luna, and let it out slowly.”
I obeyed, and he had me repeat the breath a few times, telling me to relax with each exhale. It was on the next breath that whatever the cold thing was entered my bottom and stretched the tight muscle impossibly wide.
“It's too big!” I cried.
“It's at the widest point right now. Just breathe for me, Luna.”
On my second deep breath, he slid it all the way in, and although I felt full, I didn't feel that overwhelming stretch from a moment before.
“Good girl.” Artair slapped my backside, and the plug, as I now understood it to be, was jostled, setting off a thrumming heat deep inside.
I liked the heat from his hand and the pressure from the inside; it was like being in the center of a pressure cooker.
“More, please, Sir.”
Artair chuckled lightly. “Such a greedy girl.” He walked me to the center of the room, facing away from the fireplace.
Hanging from the wide wooden beam were chains attached to fur-lined cuffs.
He raised my right arm and adjusted the height so I could stand flat on my feet.
Once my arm was positioned how he wanted it, he ran his hand down my side.
“So beautiful,” he murmured.
And I felt it—beautiful and powerful despite the lack of mobility in my limb.
Artair did the second arm, then stood back.
“Do you like what you see, Daddy?”
“I do. Now, let's get the rules straight. No speaking unless it's to answer a question. You have a safe word if you need it. What is it?”
“Dinner.”
A hint of amusement subtly lifted the corner of his mouth. “Okay, dinner it is. Any questions?”
“No, Sir.”
“Good. Let's begin.”
Artair picked up a riding crop from a group of implements he'd laid out on a table close to where I was situated.
I wondered how many times he'd done this before.
He seemed so practiced, so in control, and due to his precision with a series of strokes meant to create heat, I not only felt complete trust, I needed more.
The leather of the crop kissed my skin up and down my front, flicking both my hardened nipples. The ripple of heat zinged to my clit, driving me toward an orgasm, while the part of me not overrun with endorphins was in wonder of it all.
How did he know how to play me so well? We were almost strangers, except we weren't, not really. Artair had me from the first moment at the airport when he righted me from toppling over. Our entire relationship was one big foreplay that led to this moment.
Once again, knowing I would have to leave him sooner than later roamed through my thoughts, but I told them to go away. I didn't want to think about the inevitable; I just wanted to submerge myself in the here and now with him and what he was doing to my body.
He tapped out a rhythm down the sides of my body and up my back, stopping and paying extra attention to my bottom. The closer to my sit-spot, the more intense the strokes became. My body was begging now for release, for sweet surrender, but Artair wasn't stopping.
Then it hit me: this was the punishment, driving me to the edge of a cliff of pure pleasure and not letting me release. The realization was so powerful, it literally snapped my attention, providing me with a moment's reprieve from needing to come.
“Spread your legs.”
I stepped them apart. He tapped the insides to make my stance wider, and I obeyed.
A gentle flick of his wrist and a zing on my slick folds had me shriek.
His smile was dark and hungry but also that of a man in his zone, exhibiting complete control.
I wondered if this was what he did when facing off against an opponent in the courtroom.
He tapped my clit, peeking through my puffy folds. I was ready this time and absorbed the sting, which quickly morphed into more heat. He alternated now between my sit-spot and my overly sensitive clit until I was barely holding back tears with the effort to not come.
Just when I thought I might make it through our session, he grabbed some silver weights from the table and attached them to my aching nipples. There was no delicious, throbby heat with these; it was an imprisonment that cut off feeling. I didn't really understand the purpose.
Artair placed the crop down and adjusted my arms so they were lower, so I could bend my elbows.
“Bottom out, naughty girl.”
I bent at the hips as far as I could, pressing my bottom toward him.
There was pressure as he pulled the plug out.
Was this it? It was over. I wanted to stamp my feet and cry out, “No!” I couldn't have been more wrong.
Artair slipped his cock right inside of me so fast it took a minute for my brain and body to sync.
“Naughty girls get their bottoms spanked and fucked.”
Holy crab snacks! He gripped my hips, pumping his cock almost savagely into my bottom with powerful thrusts. My pussy wished it had something inside it as well and spasmed around nothing as the rest of me neared the breaking point.
“Oh God, oh God, oh, oh, crap, crap, crap! Artair, I can't hold back!”
He stopped pumping. “You will come when I say, Luna, and right now, you are still learning your lesson.” He smacked my ass and pumped his hips, chasing his orgasm or just punishing me—it wasn't clear.
He built the tempo, and the inferno kicked in, zinging to all parts of my body. I was about to scream that I couldn't hold on when he tugged the nipple clamps off and squeezed my nipples.
“Ahh!”
“Come!” he yelled.
Sweet relief flooded my system as I finally let go and soared.
Keeping his hands on my breasts, Artair ramped the tempo into overdrive and seconds later let out a growl as he filled my bottom with his cum, which set off a second release in me. My body spasmed, and I would have hung from my wrists if he hadn't been holding me upright.
I was completely rubber when he finally uncuffed me and carried me to the bathroom.
He filled the giant tub with bubbles and sat me inside before leaving and coming back with water and chocolate.
He set them both down on the edge of the tub, then stripped and sunk into the water behind me so I could use him as a backrest.
Never had I felt so complete.
He held a bottle to my lips. “Drink,” he ordered. Next, he placed chocolate against my lips. “Eat,” he demanded. With those tasks complete, we relaxed in the hot water.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, Luna?”
“Can we do that again?”
He chuckled. “You liked your punishment, then. That's good. And yes, we can, but let's give it a few days. Trust me when I say you're going to be sore.”
I woke up when I was being lifted from the tub. After he rubbed me dry, Artair carried me to bed and placed me under the warm covers, and I fell instantly back to sleep.