Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Chelsea lost her grip on the plate, almost dropping it.
Alex had unnerved her, and he wasn’t sure anything had pleased him more.
Without saying anything, she turned and hurried back to the serving cart, her sensual hips swaying provocatively.
What the hell am I thinking? He’d stopped training over two years ago. Even when he’d done a fair amount of it, he’d only worked with subs with prior experience who needed minor refinement. In her heart, her soul, every part of her being, Liz had said she was committed to the lifestyle, but she’d really been more of a masochist. Training had been a constant—and wearing—battle. Eventually he’d learned that she hadn’t wanted to be a perfect sub, she’d wanted his punishment. The harder, the better. Though he’d fallen in love with her, her constant misbehavior had destroyed their relationship. Recently he’d heard she’d married a man who was much more extreme than he was.
Still, the dissolution of their bond had devastated him. Maybe it had even contributed to the failure of his business, something he hadn’t looked closely at.
In the past two years, he’d been selective about who he’d played with. He took no one home and refused to form physical or emotional attachments. Not that he would have had the time, even if he’d had the inclination.
Rebuilding after the Bartholomew scandal had consumed his life and focus. Along with his younger brother and business partner, Gavin, and their team, he’d performed months of due diligence. But one of their attorneys had been paid to overlook some contractual details at the final negotiating table, leading to devastating results for Monahan’s clients.
Tonight was the first time he’d been at the Den in perhaps eighteen months, and he wouldn’t have come if Damien hadn’t organized the party and presented it as a fait accompli.
Damien wasn’t just a friend, he was one of the investors who had lost big in the scandal, but he insisted there were no hard feelings. Business was business. Sometimes a deal went south.
Now that he’d met Chelsea, he was grateful for his friend’s generosity. The pretend sub was refreshing. Bold. Brazen. Unable to comprehend the word no. She made him forget the disaster that had become his life. Time with her might be exactly what he needed.
She was at least five foot seven, even taller with the heels on. Her short blonde hair had chunks of dark lowlights, and the few curls that had escaped their clips lay on her forehead. But her blue eyes snared and kept his interest. They were wide and expressive, and he could see her emotions revealed there.
The way she sometimes betrayed her inner turmoil by worrying her lower lip charmed him. In the time they’d been talking, she’d worked off most of her lipstick, making her appear a little more vulnerable. He doubted she’d appreciate that observation.
Although he had no intention of seeing her after tonight, he could give her a taste of what she was really in for if she pursued her course of action. He understood why she’d want Evan C as a client, but frankly he thought the self-absorbed rocker was a wannabe and a never-gonnabe. Evan C lacked discipline and vision, though he demanded both of the subs he played with. Still, the man had a modicum of talent that might sustain him as a cover vocalist.
Her challenge would be the fact she wasn’t a true submissive, and her behavior proved it. As sure as sunrise, she hadn’t liked being bent over, her pert rear exposed to the world, while he’d greeted guests. Though he admired her commitment, his money was on her failing, no matter who she found to train her. She might enjoy whips, bondage, and blindfolds, but subjugating her will would be impossible.
Twisting her hands in front of her, she returned to him.
“Before we go any further, we need to get a few formalities out of the way.”
Around them, the party began in earnest. Evan C and his band moved into the sunroom and picked up microphones and the instruments that had been set up earlier. People spilled out onto the patios. One had a fire burning in a brick pit, another was warmed by propane heaters. Several people headed for the dungeon. And that left him all but alone in the living room with the headstrong Chelsea Barton.
“Does this mean you’re agreeing to train me?” she asked.
“Not at all.” He shook his head. “But I’m taking you up on the offer of spanking you, and we’ll go from there.”
“Just know that I’ll be trying to change your mind.”
Persistent. He grinned. “And I’ll be trying to convince you to give up your quest. You’re not a sub.”
“Deal.” She stuck out her hand.
The gesture startled him, but he accepted. As they shook, he noted the focused gleam in her blue eyes, making them steely. “First of all, you will address me as Sir. You may call me Master Alexander, but not Master.”
“What’s wrong with calling you Master?”
“It’s too confusing for someone as new as you. I’m not your Master. That speaks to a level of relationship we don’t have.”
“You underestimate how fast I learn.”
“Perhaps,” he conceded. “But that’s part of being a good sub.”
She scowled. “What is?”
“Following my rules, whether you like them or not, whether you agree with them or not.”
“So I have to do everything you want?”
“Of course.”
She swallowed hard.
“Within reason,” he amended with a grin. “We’ll use a safe word, and I need to be aware of your limits.”
“I really don’t know much about my limits,” she admitted. “No permanent scars or markings, I suppose.”
He respected that she hadn’t looked away. “Understood. We’ll learn about the rest of your limits together, then, through your safe word. Do you have one?”
“Parsley.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“I hate the stuff.”
“And you’ll remember that during distress?”
“I remember to request it be left off my plate when I go out to eat. So yes, I’ll remember.”
“Very well. And if it works for you, we’ll use the word ‘slow’ if things are too much and you need a break.”
She nodded.
“The Den also has a safe word. Halt. Master Damien, Gregorio, or any guest will intervene if you use that word. Are you clear?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Yes, Sir,” he corrected, voice a whiplash. “Or ‘yes, Master Alexander.’ From this moment forward, I am the Dom. You are the sub. And you will remember to acknowledge that. After all, you’re a fast learner. Or so you’ve said.”
She took a little breath. “Yes, Sir.”
“Any physical limitations I need to be aware of?”
“No, Sir.”
“In that case, about my birthday spanking…”
“Yes?” Then she tried again. “Yes, Sir?”
“We’ll go to the dungeon.” He pointed toward the stairs. “After you.”
Chelsea grabbed her wine, and he closed his hand around her wrist.
“Sober, or not at all.” One of his few hard, inflexible rules.
She hesitated, then nodded. He released her, and her hand shook as she returned the glass to the mantel. Their gazes met, and she glanced away first.
Cautiously, she moved down the stairs, likely gripping the banister as much to settle her nerves as for balance.
Speakers blasted Evan C’s music through the space. In the dungeon, lighting was dim, and the conversation was loud to compete with the band. “Give me your wrist.”
She frowned, as if not understanding the instruction, but offered her right hand. Since his last visit, several hooks had been attached to the walls. He’d heard a rumor that Damien had had them installed after one sub expressed shock that the dungeon didn’t have shackles. Of course, Damien had said, a slave should be able to be chained to the walls.
Alexander used a thoughtfully provided leather strap to attach her to the hook.
“I…”
He spoke into her ear. “Obviously you can undo that as I only secured one of your hands.” It would take her some time to unfasten the buckle, but it was doable if she panicked. “However, it’s my desire that you remain in place while I go to the bar.”
Frantically she glanced around. “But I’m the only one tied up like this.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “You are.” His little sub drew her eyebrows together. Was she going to fail her first test? “And I’m so proud of you being my good girl.”
A pulse beat in her throat. “I find that statement a bit insulting.”
“Do you? They aren’t meant as anything other than an expression of my approval. Until you can see that, bask in it…” He left the rest of his sentence unfinished. “If you prefer, I could attach you to the wall by your neck. In fact—”
“This is fine, Sir.”
“You may want to thank me for my kindness.”
“What? Seriously.”
In silence, he regarded her.
“I mean… Thank you, Sir.” Her words held a snarl.
“The fact I had to coach you to use your manners informs me how unschooled you really are.”
“In future I’ll do better.” She took a breath. “Sir.”
“See that you do.” Without a backward glance, he walked to the bar to order two bottles of water.
While there, pretending an interest in the festivities, he kept a close eye on Chelsea. A waiter carrying a tray of wine walked past her, ignoring her completely. With her lips pursed, she watched him go.
Rather than engaging in conversation with other attendees, Alex returned to Chelsea. One minute had probably seemed like an eternity to her. “Well-trained subs are unconcerned when they’re ignored. Instead they concentrate on pleasing their Dominant. I secured you to the wall because I wanted to, not because you were being punished. What would the experience be like if you had just centered yourself and thought about my imminent return?”
“This is difficult, Sir.”
“You may safe word at any time and admit I was right.”
Though she smiled, it was clear her back teeth were clenched. “Hard doesn’t mean impossible, Sir.”
“In that case, next time I’ll place you naked in the stocks. They’re portable and can be moved to the middle of the room. Completely adjustable so I can have you standing, sitting, kneeling, bent over, or even squatting. Depends on what part of your body I want exposed.”
Color drained from her face.
“And I’ll expect you to thank me for the experience.”
“I…” She blinked. “What?”
“Your lack of gratitude for my attention is a bit off-putting.”
“I’m confused,” she said.
“My time is valuable. Especially since it’s my birthday, I could find someone a little more agreeable to play with.” Brandy, who’d helped out with the cake, was standing near a wall, carefully watching all the goings-on, in case she was needed.
He signaled to her, and she hurried over. Though she moved with purpose and speed, her motions were graceful.
“Master Alexander.” She smiled. “May I be of service?”
“Are you available for a short demonstration?”
“Of course, Sir.”
“Do you have a safe word?”
“Red, Sir.”
“Anything else I need to know, Brandy?”
“Thank you for asking, Sir. Nothing else you need to know.”
“Any issues with corporal punishment?”
“No, Sir.”
He turned back to Chelsea. “Observe. Relax. This isn’t about me pointing out your shortcomings, it’s simply a part of your instruction.”
Though her lips were set in a tight line, she said nothing.
“Remove your garment,” he instructed Brandy.
Within moments, she stood in front of him, naked.
“Please present your breasts.”
“Certainly, Master Alexander.” Gaze downcast, Brandy cupped the abundant globes in her palms. She lifted her breasts and drew them together.
“Thank you,” he said. “I’m going to squeeze your nipples hard.”
“Of course, Sir.”
He gave her a couple of gentle squeezes, preparing her for what was coming. When she leaned toward him, wordlessly indicating she was ready for more, he increased the pressure.
When she moaned, he backed off.
She exhaled. “Thank you, Sir.”
He repeated the process, but this time he added more pressure.
Brandy closed her eyes and made soft purring sounds.
When he released her, she kept her eyes closed. From her position, it was obvious she liked what he was doing and wanted more. Still, moments later, she opened her eyes again and softly said, “I appreciate your attentions, Sir.”
“You’re very welcome, pet.” Then he directed his attention back to Chelsea. Her gaze was transfixed on Brandy.
“Didn’t that hurt?” she asked the submissive.
Before responding, Brandy looked at him for approval.
After he nodded, she replied to Chelsea. “It did. But Master Alexander knows what he is doing. He stopped before it became too uncomfortable, but I always have a safe word if I can’t tolerate something.”
Gregorio walked over to them.
“Kneel,” Alex instructed Brandy.
Instantly, she complied, her legs spread wide, resting her bare buttocks on her calves. He preferred a slightly different stance, and before sunrise, he’d teach Chelsea several positions.
The difference in the two women was remarkable. Brandy turned her palms up, cast her gaze down, and drew long, deep breaths. Although she seemed at ease, he knew she was ready to respond to any command, no matter how subtle.
Chelsea was a different story. She was straining against the strap so hard he was afraid she was going to bruise. Though she looked at the floor as he spoke to Gregorio, she kept glancing back up. Alex understood her confusion.
Earlier she’d been talking to Gregorio as an equal. The man was a switch, meaning he could sub or he could dominate. He related to subs and often helped them navigate their way through unfamiliar situations, but he wielded a wicked single tail, gave demonstrations, was an expert rigger, and the few times he’d been in relationships, he’d clearly been in charge.
What she needed to learn was that unless Alex said otherwise, she was to act as a sub to everyone. “Brandy, get on all fours and show your asshole to Gregorio.”
“Of course, Sir.” She placed her forehead on the cold tile floor, arched her back, and reached back to spread her buttocks.
The two men continued their conversation, ignoring both women.
Finally, Gregorio excused himself.
“Very nice, Brandy. Thank you for your assistance. You may get up and dress.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
She donned her short dress, then returned to her duties.
He faced Chelsea again. “That kind of behavior, flawless service, is what I expect, what any Dom will expect from you. Would you like to continue your lesson, or shall we have a drink and listen to some of Master Evan C’s music?” He left her attached to the wall while she considered her options.
“I’d like to continue on, Sir.”
“Even if it means dropping to your knees and showing your anus to the world?”
Shaking slightly, she met his eyes. “Even if, Sir.”
“Brave girl.”
Surprisingly, she didn’t protest his praise.
As he unfastened her, he was forced to admit grudging respect. She was either committed to her course, or she was incredibly stubborn. Either way, he’d expected her to run before now.
When he had been a trainer, he’d often waited weeks or a month before asking a sub to practice in public. Fighting emotions was more difficult when you weren’t alone with your Dom. Yet she’d approached him here. “As you heard, Gregorio said that we can use the second space down the hall on the left. Before we go, you need to know there’s a screen for privacy, but there’s no door. If you cry or scream, as you will, others may hear you.” Evan’s unintelligible music was still chipping the paint off the walls, so her sounds would be muffled. “And others may walk by and see you. You will be naked. The humiliation you’ve experienced so far will be nothing compared to what you’ll endure over the next hour or so.”
As he rubbed her wrist, she tipped her head back.
“Would you like me to follow you, Sir?”
I would indeed. He grabbed their water bottles and started down the hall, not checking to see whether or not she followed—the choice was entirely hers.
Once he’d entered their assigned space, he moved toward the side wall. As he familiarized himself with the paraphernalia and apparatus, on the wall and in drawers, he said, “Please strip.” He didn’t look over his shoulder as he spoke to her. “Then kneel in the center of the room. Some Doms will permit you to use a mat. I will not.”
As always, Master Damien had ensured each room in the dungeon was well stocked. Damien was not only a gracious host, but a shrewd businessman. A production company often filmed at the Den and on its surrounding acreage. Not only that, but the facilities were available for rental.
A few of the rooms had themes, but this one was multi-purpose. A padded, massage-type table was off to one side. Hooks had been strategically attached, but he doubted he’d be using them this evening.
After placing the water bottles on a shelf, he opened drawers, set out a container of disinfectant wipes, tossed a condom on the counter, laid out several pairs of surgical gloves, then pulled out a bottle of lube.
Alex studied the assorted floggers, spankers, and other implements hanging on the wall. As he did so, the soft sounds of her reached him.
Finally he selected a thick flogger—crafted from deer hide, if his guess was correct. It should provide a nice thud, but nothing too intense for her creamy skin.
When he faced her, she was in the same position Brandy had been in earlier. Chelsea was even looking at the floor. A nice start. Her skirt and shirt were folded precisely. If she had removed all her clothes, he would have been elated. “What instructions were you given, girl?”
She looked up. “To strip and to kneel, Sir.”
“What part of that was open to interpretation?”
“I…” She sighed and rolled her hands into tight fists.
He wasn’t sure if she was anxious or whether she was frustrated with him. “Was your thong expensive?”
“No, Sir.”
“Good.” He took out a pair of emergency scissors and approached her. He crouched in front of her and snipped the material. “And the bra?”
“Uh…I’m happy to remove it, Sir.”
“You had the opportunity.” When she didn’t argue, he went on, “You understood my command. Did the bra cost a week’s salary?”
“No, Sir.”
He moved behind her to release the hooks, then he squatted in front of her to cut through the shoulder straps. After the ruined scrap of lace had fallen to the floor, near her thong, he caught her chin. “Lesson learned?”
“Yes, Sir.” Her eyes were wide and unblinking. “When you tell me to strip, that means I am to be naked.”
“You have ten seconds to remove your shoes. Remain on your knees.”
He stood and worked the pulleys on the wall that would lower an overhead hook. Then he took out a small stool that was stored in a corner. Once things were prepared, he returned to her. Her shoes were laid alongside her neatly folded pile of discarded clothing. “The position you are in is what I call kneeling back. It’s a fairly comfortable position for a sub. But you should place your hands palms up on your thighs.”
When she did, he added, “However, that’s not my preferred position. I prefer to have my subs kneeling up.”
He took a cane from the wall. She couldn’t know that he didn’t intend to punish her with it, but rather, he would use it to correct flaws in her posture. He didn’t explain it to her. It was fine with him if she had some questions, even better if she had some concerns.
He tapped the rattan against his open palm. “When I instruct you to kneel, you can assume it means I want you in the kneel up position. This means placing your hands behind your neck.” When she did so, he added, “Spine straight, and no more resting on your calves. Thrust out your breasts. Keep your knees far apart. Farther.” He tapped the insides of her thighs with the rattan. “Even more.” When he was satisfied, he nodded. “This makes it possible to punish your pussy if I desire.”
“I… Yeah. That scares me.”
“No need to be. Yet.”
“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? A cane on the pussy is most definitely on my limits list.”
“Acknowledged. However, it doesn’t have to be wicked, if you ever want to try it.”
In obvious disbelief, she flicked her gaze at the implement.
“Now stand so I can inspect your naked body.”
She hesitated for a moment.
“Many Doms like to ensure their subs have complied with their grooming rules. And sometimes they simply enjoy touching while she or he is unable to move. For others, it’s simply a perfunctory part of the relationship.”
Like most novices, she stood awkwardly, putting a hand down to steady herself.
“We’ll try that again, shall we? This time, keep your hands behind your neck. Use your abdominal muscles. It’s tricky with shoes on, but since you’re barefoot, it’s easier to find your balance.” He forced her to rise and kneel ten times before she was a bit out of breath. The altitude of Damien’s mountain club might also have something to do with it. “If you want to hold your Dom’s interest, you’ll practice that dozens of times a day. With heels, barefoot, holding a tray, hands in various positions. Your movements should be beautiful…poetry in motion.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“For a standing inspection, I require you to keep your head up, looking straight ahead. Of course, others have different expectations, but if you’re with someone for the first time and no other orders have been issued, this is a fairly safe default position. Of course, that doesn’t mean you won’t be punished for your assumption.” He flashed her a wicked grin. “I’ll show you a lying down variation after we’re done here. Now, push your elbows out farther so that your breasts are more prominently displayed. Bring your shoulder blades together.”
“Oh my God. More trips to the gym are in order.”
“I have a tongue clamp if you can’t keep your mouth shut.”
Wisely, she said nothing.
He tapped the insides of her ankles with the rattan and she spread her legs wider in response. “Good. Now, I intend to inspect you. Your mental state matters here. You can see this as a humiliating exposure, or you can see it as part of the procedure, or you can know you’re pleasing your Dom. You can even enjoy the experience. It’s all up to you.” He walked around her. “You have a lovely body, Chelsea.” When she remained silent, he prompted, “You may thank me for the compliment.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Lovely breasts, with long, thick pink nipples.”
When she remained silent, he tapped her forearm with the cane to prompt her. “What do you say?”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Do you have sensitive nipples, girl?”
“Uhm…not overly so, Sir.”
“Mind if I find out for myself?”
Her hesitation was so slight that he might have missed it had he not been watching her so carefully. “Please do, Sir.”
Before cupping her breasts, he returned the cane to its place. “Stay in position.” He lifted her breasts slightly then tightened his grip on the firm flesh.
Though the speed of her breathing increased, she didn’t protest.
He moved his hands to gently squeeze her nipples. Her mouth was slightly parted, and she continued to look ahead. He released her, then did it again, and again slightly harder. “How’s that?”
“It’s…” She blinked then met his gaze. “Amazing.”
“And yet I don’t hear any gratitude.”
“Thank you, Sir!”
“Much better. What are you thanking me for?”
She wrinkled her nose, and said, “For your attention to me, Sir.”
“Now your pretty pussy.” He used his left hand to part her labia and he skimmed the inside of the tender flesh. “Many Doms will want you clean shaven there. If you were my sub, I’d use a pair of tweezers to get every stray hair that you missed.”
She swallowed hard.
“Lucky for you, you’re not my sub.” He stroked her clit, then slid a finger inside her. She was nicely damp, responsive. He moved behind her and swatted her rear on both sides with an upward motion of his hand.
She lost her balance momentarily before immediately getting back into position.
After putting on a pair of surgical gloves, he said, “Open your mouth.”
For a moment she looked so mutinous that he was betting she’d use her safe word. But eventually she yielded. He found it interesting that many subs didn’t protest him probing any other orifice, but they didn’t like him sticking his fingers in their mouths. “Wider. I mean it,” he added when she didn’t comply. “Good. Now stick out your tongue.” He grasped the end of her tongue and pulled on it.
After he’d released it, he ran his finger around the inside of her mouth. He did this part to reinforce the totality of submissiveness. Once he was finished with that part, he said, “Now get on all fours like Brandy did, forehead on the floor, and then reach back to part your ass cheeks.”
“Sir…”
“You can use a safe word, or you can ask me to slow down so we can talk about it. Communication is essential to your success. But if you’re merely stalling, that will try my patience, and you won’t get the most out of this experience tonight. I’m sure you’re aware that many Doms use all their sub’s holes.”
“Oh my God.”
“Too real?”
“It’s…” She shook her head. “Just a lot of new experiences all at once.”
Even though it took her a ridiculous amount of time, she complied with his request.
“How much anal experience have you had?” Alex crossed to the counter and pumped a dollop of lube onto two fingers.
“Very little…maybe twice.” Warily, she watched him. “I’ve never had more than one finger up there, Sir.”
“Until today,” he amended, returning to her.
“Right. Until today.”
“Are you ready?” He crouched behind her.
She clenched her buttocks. “Not sure I ever will be.”
“In that case, we might as well proceed.” He stroked her spine. “It will be easier for you if you relax.”
“I’m not sure I can, Sir.”
“There’s always a hard way and an easy way. The choice is up to you.” He started slowly, inserting the tip of a finger and then pulling back. He did that several times, going a bit deeper each time. “Feel this ring of muscle?”
“You’re embarrassing me,” she muttered, swaying.
He was glad she couldn’t see his smile. “No embarrassment needed. It’s totally natural. Bearing down will make it easier for me to get past the muscle, and it will be much more pleasant.”
“Pleasant?”
Her legs quivered, no doubt from the strain as much as her natural apprehension. Still, she did as instructed. Soon he had two fingers inside her. “Well done,” he said approvingly as he finished up and removed the gloves. While she situated herself, he disposed of them. “Return to your previous standing position and tell me what you thought of your first inspection?”
Not meeting his gaze, she looked straight ahead. “I suppose it was okay, Sir. I did what you said and tried not to feel humiliated. I didn’t like the mouth part for some reason, but having your fingers up my ass wasn’t as painful as I thought it might be.”
“Do you recall my earlier conversation about gratitude? I’ve yet to hear your manners, girl.”
She went still, as if oxygen had been sucked from the room.
The pounding from Evan’s music suddenly ceased, leaving everything silent.
“I… Hell. I mean, thank you. Thank you, Sir.”
“Being inspected like that is a privilege, girl.”
“I’m not sure I understand, Sir.”
“I’m happy to show you. If you don’t want another demonstration, afterward you’ll remember your manners.” He cupped her breasts and squeezed mercilessly.
“Oh, God! I understand. I’m sorry, Sir!” she gasped. “Thank you! Thank you!”
“That’s better. Now your nipples.” He pinched her, quick and hard before releasing her.
To catch herself, she had to lock her knees.
“Nothing to say?” He repeated the process, this time using a ridiculous amount of pressure.
“Argh!” Tears welled in her eyes. “Thank you, Sir.”
To drive home his lesson, he slapped between her legs. “I could use an implement.” He leaned toward her, keeping her gaze trained on him. “It would hurt much worse than my hand.”
“Thank you for your kindness, Sir.”
He fingered her beautiful pussy without bringing her any pleasure. When she didn’t thank him quickly enough, he spanked her again. “Now open your mouth.” He donned a new pair of gloves while she watched and waited, wavering back and forth.
As he repeated what he’d done earlier, but without tenderness, she squeezed her eyes shut.
When he gave her a moment’s reprieve, she muttered her gratitude. Then he went on, “Now show me that ass.” Because he’d already stretched her anus, and because her rear passage had already been lubed, he squirted only a small amount of gel onto his fingertips before entering her with no prior verbal warning. This time, he finger-fucked her as she whimpered her gratitude. “Now, girl, kneel back and think about the differences in those experiences and how thankful you are that I was so lenient with you the first time.”