Chapter Five
Chapter Five
With breaths threatening to strangle her, Chelsea pulled into the parking lot of the shopping mall at Denver West, found an empty spot, then shut off the engine before sinking against the seatback and exhaling.
As she’d driven, she’d struggled to understand what had happened at Master Alex’s home, and emotion and memories had pummeled her, making concentration impossible.
Now she sought solace in the evening sky.
How had he gotten to her so completely? So deeply?
She squeezed her eyes shut.
After the night she’d scened with Master Alexander at the Den, she had wanted him to call her. Almost a week later, when he hadn’t, she’d begged Sara to put her in touch with some other Dominants, gambling that Master Alexander would hear about her inquiries, and more, that he wouldn’t like that.
Unless she was mistaken, he’d been as intrigued by her as she’d been fascinated by him.
Chelsea has done a small jig around her office when Sara had finally provided Chelsea with his contact information following her call to Master Niles. Mission accomplished.
But seeing him this evening had upended her entire world.
His invitation to join him for dinner had shocked her—no doubt as he’d intended. But she should have known it wouldn’t be an ordinary dinner.
From the beginning, when he’d instructed her to skip her undergarments, to ordering her food, to choosing difficult topics of conversation where he’d sifted through her carefully stored childhood memories, the evening had been a challenge.
And then…
At his home, the scene had been intense for her. Having her motions restricted was difficult, but she hadn’t expressed that, instead, she’d tested him with her defiance. His retribution had been swift and sure. And because he’d been so impersonal, he’d chipped away at her emotional armor, leaving her drowning in her tears.
Even then, he’d been tender, seeking to understand, and maybe even more importantly, helping her understand her own reactions.
She’d never met anyone like him, and that unnerved her.
Her cell phone chimed with an incoming text message, and she checked it.
Master Alexander.
Please let me know when you’re safe. If you wish to call, I’m available.
Had she ever known a man who was more considerate than he was? His thoughtfulness steadied her, restoring her self-confidence enough to start the car and finish the drive home. Once she arrived, she dutifully texted that she’d arrived but said nothing more.
Even though she was feeling more stable, she had too much energy to sleep, so she changed into a swimsuit.
Her apartment complex had some niceties, including indoor and outdoor pool facilities. She found water to be relaxing as well as restorative, and she did a lot of her best thinking in the bath as well as the outdoor hot tub. But as she was leaving her unit, she caught sight of a couple of pink stripes on her upper thighs.
They took her back in time, to the Den, to his home. How fascinating that she could have such monumentally different experiences, both where she’d been spanked.
Chelsea went back to her bedroom for a long, flowing swimsuit coverup. But with luck, no one else would be using the hot tub.
Other than a couple of teenage boys who were horsing around in the deep end of the pool, she had the area to herself.
After turning on the jets to drown out their noise, she removed the outer garment and sank in deep, letting the water bubble around her chest. Eventually, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back, wishing the earlier experience had been less confusing.
When she’d set her sights on landing Master Alexander as a trainer, she’d known it wouldn’t be easy, but she’d expected to at least enjoy the experience. During their two weeks together, she’d thought she’d have orgasms and thrilling sex, learn some useful skills, maybe get tied up, enjoy a few sexy spankings.
But she hadn’t expected the whole experience to be so much work, mentally as well as physically. Holding up her arms, kneeling, being restrained and spanked—all had taxed her body.
At the Den, he’d asked her about limits, and she’d truly believed she had few, if any. She was in charge of her thoughts, and nothing got to her.
But their scenes had confounded her.
Though she continually attempted to intellectualize the process of submission, the more she learned, the more there was to know.
Several more teens came down to the pool area, so she went back upstairs. As she showered, she took down the handheld showerhead and rinsed off.
At the Den, Master Alexander had been a spectacular lover. There’d been an intimacy about the way they interacted that she’d found lacking in previous relationships.
And now, away from distraction, she once again replayed the evening’s events, kneeling, being in the posture collar, having her hands secured, having his hand blaze across her ass. In retrospect, none of it had been awful. He’d ensured her safety and he’d talked to her the entire time.
She’d only started to spiral when she was swept up in her own thoughts.
How different would the evening have been if she hadn’t struggled against his orders or defied him?
Would Master Alexander have given her a shattering orgasm?
As she thought of him and his gorgeous face and amazing body, she moved the showerhead down her body, from her chest to her belly, then between her legs. She used one hand to spread her pussy.
Heaven help her. She craved his attention, his touch, gentle caresses, sex…
With a sigh, she continued to move the showerhead between her legs. Then she turned the dial so that the water pulsed, rather than sprayed, and she teased her clit with the warmth and the pressure.
The orgasm she’d wanted loomed out of reach, so she rose onto the balls of her feet and clenched her buttocks, striving for completion.
She needed pressure on her nipples, she realized. And with the way she was using the showerhead, there was no way to do that.
A minute or so later, she gave up in frustration. Until he’d introduced her to some nipple play, she’d been able to reach orgasm quickly.
In frustration, she shut off the water.
Nothing about today had gone the way she’d anticipated or hoped.
Once she’d dried off, she grabbed her purse and fished out the tube of arnica. The fact he’d given it to her showed he had been thinking of her, no matter what her mind had told her at the time.
Unsure what to do with that realization, she crossed to the bedroom to stand in front of the mirror, then she squirted cream onto her fingertip and dabbed it on the red mark.
Afterward, she debated what to do. Restless energy still filled her.
Instead of changing into her pajamas, she dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt and buried herself in housework, trying to ignore the truth that was nagging at her—part of her wanted to continue her training.
In life, she’d learned that mastery came from practice. Why had she expected submission to be any different?
She might decide he was right, that the lifestyle didn’t suit her and that an occasional scene satisfied her.
On the other hand, at the Den, there’d been transcendent moments when she’d experienced peace, when she’d stayed present instead of allowing her thoughts to gallop.
There was only one way she knew of to decide whether or not she wanted to continue on. By testing her commitment.
Despite the fact she was tired and a little overwrought, she set an alarm for twenty minutes.
She knelt, then continually moved between the positions he’d taught her, from kneeling up to standing, from kneeling to inspect.
The repetition quickly became uncomfortable. Her muscles started to fatigue, and she glanced at the timer to discover she was only halfway through.
Drawing on the same determination that had gotten her this far in life, she kept going.
With five minutes remaining, she realized how badly her body hurt, and she was thinking of all the other things she could be doing, like a load of laundry, paying some bills, making a grocery list, even getting some much-needed sleep.
But instead of quitting, she pictured him standing in front of her, arms folded, legs spread in a commanding way. Then she imagined him ordering her onto her back so he could lick her pussy.
She stumbled.
The man had the power to discombobulate her, even when he wasn’t there. If she’d conjured that image while she had been in the shower, she absolutely would have been able to orgasm.
By the time the alarm rang, she was perspiring. She had to give credit to Brandy for her graceful movements. Making elegance appear effortless required a tremendous amount of work.
When Chelsea finally went to bed, she fell into a disturbed sleep, and she looked at the clock at least half a dozen times before dawn.
Finally, giving up, she tossed back the covers and practiced her moves before going to the office. Then, on her lunch break, she gathered up all her courage and telephoned Master Alexander.
He answered on the first ring. “Chelsea.”
Her heart fluttered.
“How are you doing emotionally?”
His concern for her well-being made her soar. “Much better, Sir.” And a good night’s sleep would help restore her equilibrium the rest of the way. “I appreciate you asking.”
“Anything specific you wish to discuss?”
“I wanted you to know you were right.”
“Oh?”
His voice, so rough, so sexy and inviting, made her toes curl in her pumps. “Last night and this morning, I thought a lot about BDSM being a journey, questioning whether it’s what I truly want, if I’m doing it for the right reasons. It’s more emotional than I expected, and rigorous.”
Another realization occurred, one at a much deeper level. He hadn’t spoken, and instead, he gave her the freedom to sort through her thoughts. “I’ve always believed that success is about mind over matter. Meaning that if I’m committed and keep pushing forward, I can do anything.”
“That can be a helpful mindset.”
“In general, maybe. But last night’s experience humbled me.”
He was silent for so long that she stood and paced the small confines of the room. At some point, she’d be able to afford a bigger space, but until You’re The Star reached the next level of success—signing a minor celebrity that they could make into an A-lister—the firm would have to make do.
“Is that necessarily a bad thing?”
As she considered his question, she swiped back a lock of hair that had fallen onto her forehead. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Perhaps you can reframe it as a breakthrough.”
If she learned from it, perhaps.
“Become stronger, more resilient?”
“I’d like that.”
“Have you reached a decision yet?”
“Yes.” She straightened her shoulders. “I’d like to continue on. If you’re agreeable, Sir?”
“Chelsea, there’s nothing I’d like more.”
His purr of approval slid through her, reinforcing that she’d made the right decision. Instantly she gave herself a mental shake. Master Alexander was a Dominant, her trainer, not someone she was dating.
Wanting to be close to him had been part of her problem last night. If she had learned anything, it was that she had to keep him at an emotional distance, constantly reminding herself this was a professional relationship and nothing more, no matter how much her body responded to his touch and the sensuality in his tone.
“For the next week, I’d like you to practice your paces and call me every day—at whatever time you choose—to discuss your experiences.”
His statement caught her off guard, making her blink. What?
“Is that agreeable?”
“I’d thought”—hoped—“we’d continue as we were.”
“Taking time to test your resolve and to communicate is the best use of our time.”
She didn’t like his decision, but what choice did she have?
“You’ll be expected to go through your positions every day. Today for ten minutes.”
Which was less than she’d done last night and again this morning.
“Each day you’ll increase the time by five minutes until you reach half an hour.”
“I agree, Sir.”
“During our check-ins, I’ll expect you to be forthcoming, hiding nothing.”
As she already knew, that would be the most difficult thing of all.
“I’ll be here for you. If you struggle, call or message me.”
Did he have any idea how much the offer soothed her? “Thank you for that.”
“Your safe word still applies.”
Like an excellent Dom, he thought of everything.
“Be aware that I’ll know if you don’t follow through. It will be obvious.”
At his comment, she bristled. “I keep my word, Sir.”
“Just for my own personal pleasure and perhaps perversion, at some time during the week, expect that I will ask you to video chat with me while you’re going through your exercises. At that point I’ll have further instructions.”
“Like what, Sir?”
“Always, girl, be prepared for the unexpected.”
Her tummy lurched. What are you planning? Master Alexander Monahan was diabolical, keeping her guessing.
“Call me tomorrow, pet.”
The intimacy in his voice would ensure her compliance. “Yes, Sir.”
Outside her office window, traffic zipped past, and she barely noticed it.
Master Alexander consumed her.
And the fact she had to wait a week to see him again made her restless. Being with him, feeling the brush of his fingers on her skin was the stuff of dreams.
Somehow, she had to get through the next week. No matter what, she would endure, even when it was challenging.
Each morning, after getting out of bed, she went through the motions for half of the time he required. Then she did the same when she arrived home from work, no matter how long or tiring her day had been. And because her muscles ached, she headed for the hot tub before bed.
The first few times she followed his instructions, she had difficulty reining in her thoughts. Then it had become somewhat easier.
By Sunday, things were less challenging, mentally anyway.
When she called him late that afternoon, she reached his voicemail. Sighing from disappointment, she nonetheless forced a chipper note into her voice—act enthusiastic, and you’ll be enthusiastic as she’d learned at one of her first sales training events—and left a pleasant message.
As she watched a television show, she checked the phone screen several times, even though it had been silent.
Finally, he returned her call just as she was heading to the pool deck.
She exhaled a few times to steady herself before answering. “Good evening, Sir.” It amazed her how using the honorific instantly calmed her.
“I informed you previously that you needed to be prepared to video chat.”
Her heart stopped. “Yes, Sir. However—”
“Are you at home? Alone?”
She exhaled. For a moment she considered fibbing, but she couldn’t bring herself to utter the lie. No doubt he’d simply ask her to do so later, and perhaps at a less convenient time. “I am.”
“Alone?”
“Also yes.”
“In that case, was there anything about our agreement that was unclear to you?”
“No, Sir,” she agreed miserably. But before he could speak again, she rushed on. “I just wanted you to know that I already practiced today.”
“That’s relevant how?”
From his point of view, perhaps it wasn’t.
“I’m not aware of any reason a few more minutes would be detrimental. Are you?”
Glad that he couldn’t see her responses, she tipped her head back in frustration. Her body was sore, and she was looking forward to soothing her muscles in hot water beneath an inky, starlit sky.
“I’m waiting for your answer.”
“No, Sir. You’re correct.”
“In that case, I’d like to see you. Now.”
She touched a button on her screen to turn on her camera.
Because she’d been in his home, she recognized that he was in his study, lazing back in his chair. He wore a crisp white shirt, with the top couple of buttons open.
At the sight of him, her mouth watered.
Even though it had only been a few days since she’d seen him, she’d forgotten how incredibly sexy he was.
“It’s nice to see your face, Chelsea.”
Since her tongue was suddenly twisted, she couldn’t respond.
“Find a good place for your phone so that I can see all of your movements, whether you’re on your back or standing.”
She spent several minutes propping it at the right angle and distance until he said he was satisfied.
“You were heading for a swim?”
“I’m not that much of a glutton for punishment—I mean exercise—Sir. I was just on my way to the hot tub.”
“In that case, we should make sure your muscles are really demanding to be soothed.”
This time, because he could see her, she schooled her features.
“Remove your swimsuit and begin by kneeling, then standing. Do it fifteen times.”
Her first few transitions were awkward before she took a breath and momentarily closed her eyes to steady her nerves.
“You’re doing well.”
If this seemed like an improvement, how terrible had she been that first night at his house?
When she continued, she was much more refined.
“Excellent. Your discipline is showing.”
His words fed her.
“Keep going.”
Concentrating on his pleasure rather than her discomfort, she did as he said.
“Good. You may stop.”
She blinked. This was much sooner than she’d anticipated. She wasn’t even breathing hard yet. “Really, Sir?”
“I’m satisfied with your progress.” He leaned forward, his features filling her screen. “Very satisfied.”
At this point, she might do anything for him.
“Now we’ll move on to an inspection.”
A what? “I’m confused. I have no idea how that would work.”
“No need to worry. I’ll provide you with adequate instruction.”
She was afraid of that.
“Have you been keeping yourself properly groomed?”
Though she hadn’t expected him to ask that, as part of her morning shower, she shaved. “Yes, I have.”
“You’re being an extraordinarily good girl. You wouldn’t have been punished for not doing so as I didn’t specifically require that you take care of that, but that you thought to makes me happy.”
Chelsea basked in his approval.
“Grab your phone. I want you to kneel, knees wide, your camera between your legs. You’re going to spread your labia and show me what a good job you did.”
Trembling, she did as he said, and she had to move the camera several times until he was once more satisfied.
“Good, now lower your body a little.”
“That’s obscene, Sir.”
“Don’t make me repeat myself, girl. Otherwise you’ll be spanking yourself while I enjoy listening to your whimpers and cries.”
Panic filled her senses. “You wouldn’t!”
He chuckled, a diabolical sound that terrified her more than a display of anger would have. “Try me.”
Knowing he was serious, her face heating with embarrassment, she immediately followed his instructions.
“Your pussy doesn’t appear to be wet.”
“A little fear does that to me, Sir.” And so did the uncomfortable position.
“Simply do the same things to yourself that I did to you at the Den. Run your finger everywhere. Pull back the hood of your clit and let me see it. And fuck yourself with your hand.”
This may be one of the worst things she’d ever experienced.
Softly he spoke again. “Transcend your reactions and know you’re pleasing me.”
She exhaled a soft breath.
“Now get on with it.”
Shaking, drawing on all her mental strength, she spread herself wide for the camera, for him.
“Clean shaven. Nice. You have been a good girl.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Still shaking, she exposed her clit.
“Very pretty. Stay as you are for a few more seconds.”
The position, the exposure, the emotional discomfort, all piling up, she did as he said.
“That’s it. Now lick your finger and play with it.”
Knowing he was watching, approving, her own touch seemed to electrify her.
“I’m thinking you like this.”
As she stroked, Chelsea rocked back and forth.
Shocking her, an orgasm started to build. Nooo. This couldn’t possibly be happening. But it was.
“Now stop.”
For a couple of seconds, she didn’t react. How long had it been since that night at the Den when she’d had her last orgasm? She was on edge in a way she’d never been before.
“Stop immediately and spank your pussy.” His voice was a whiplash. “Three times. And you’d better fucking do it as hard as I would.”
Whimpering, she protested.
“Last chance, or I’ll make it five.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she followed his terrible order, crying out from the pain and because the act left her shockingly more aroused.
“Fuck.” His curse purred with pure male satisfaction. “Red is suddenly my favorite color. I should keep you like that at all times.”
Her body jerking, she struggled for control.
“Now finger-fuck yourself, girl. Hard and deep. If you even get close to your clit, you’ll get more punishment.” His demands were constant, horrible.
“You’re being beastly, Sir.”
“So far, I’ve been a gentleman, and more generous than you deserve.”
Though he might be right, his words didn’t soothe her agitation.
“Since you’re considerably smaller than I am, I want you using three fingers.”
She complied, becoming more and more aroused. Her impending orgasm couldn’t be denied. “Oh, Sir!” Spinning back to their time they’d had sex, Chelsea closed her eyes, imagining him inside her.
“Problem, girl?”
Unable to respond, she thrust her hips.
“You’re not going to come, are you, Chelsea?”
The warning in his tone didn’t penetrate her haze.
“Chelsea?”
She was almost there, so close, so desperate…
“Stop immediately.”
His loud command penetrated her self-induced haze. “But…”
“Immediately,” he repeated with force.
Ceasing her movements, she fought back her aggravation.
“Now pick up the phone and place your fingers in your mouth. Taste yourself and know how happy I am to know you’re so needy.”
“But… Sir, it’s been so long since—”
“And it’s going to be even longer. Your denial is delicious.”
Once she had the device in hand, she sucked on her fingertips.
He picked up a glass of something—whiskey maybe—and took a sip.
His eyes were intense, his nod filled with triumph. “That’s satisfactory.”
Relieved, she dropped her hand to her side.
“Your orgasms belong to me.”
Hardly able to comprehend his words, she blinked.
“To give, to withhold. Understand?”
“I…” When he quirked an eyebrow, she reluctantly relented. “Yes, Sir.”
“That means you require permission before coming, and this is not a situation where it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission.”
“Is this part of my training, Sir?”
“No. It’s whim, and I’m indulging myself. I like to think of you suffering, my pet.”
Did his demands have no end?
“After this experiment, do you still wish to continue forward? Or do you prefer to choose the time and place of your climaxes and set your own schedule without interference?”
As she considered her answer, she looked into his eyes and had a jolting, overwhelming sense of connection.
Perhaps it wasn’t a surprise.
No one else had ever pushed her to this extreme, with such high expectations, but offering much more in return. Because of the way he demolished her defenses, she experienced an intimacy with him unlike anything she’d shared with anyone else.
Without saying another word, he took a sip and waited.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Those were the words I hoped to hear.”
Did this mean he’d shorten the amount of time until she needed to wait before seeing him?
His next words dashed her hopes.
“In that case, two days from now, repeat this process. Record a video and send it to me.”
Her mouth fell open.
“Any questions?”
“No, Sir.” Did he stay up at night thinking up ways to keep her guessing?
“No orgasms. As always, call me tomorrow.” He flashed a charming smile, as if trying to disguise his diabolical manner. “Enjoy the hot tub.”
Her phone screen went blank.
Staring at it, she tipped her head to one side. He’d dropped all of that on her, then ended the call without saying goodbye?
How was she supposed to survive him and his sexy, need-inducing demands?