Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
“You may kneel back.”
With those words, Master Alexander re-established his authority.
When he released her, Chelsea shook her head to clear it. For a moment she’d slipped, believing in their intimacy and forgetting he was her trainer. Nothing more.
She forced herself to gracefully move into the position he required.
“Nice,” he said, nodding. “Ready for dinner?”
“Uhm…” Was he serious? “With the plug in place?”
His grin was quick and wholly evil. “That’s why I put it there.”
“I have to sit on it?”
“Might help your posture.” He lifted one shoulder in a shrug.
This couldn’t be happening. But it was.
While she dressed, he waited patiently, then asked, “Comfortable enough?”
“Not at all, Sir.”
“In that case, we’re ready to leave.”
After helping her into his luxurious SUV, he backed out of the driveway and glanced in her direction. “Pizza okay?”
He couldn’t have shocked her more. “I didn’t take you for someone who liked pizza,” she observed.
“We all have secrets.” He turned onto a main street. “The difference is, I plan to uncover all of yours.”
He’d already discovered a few even she didn’t know existed.
“Since it’s an Italian restaurant, they also have excellent lasagna, antipasto, manicotti.”
“Carbs are my favorite foods.”
Inside the cozy building, he was warmly greeted. “Alex!”
The woman rounded the counter to kiss his cheek.
“Daniela, please meet Chelsea.”
Immediately, Chelsea was swept into the woman’s welcoming arms.
“Daniela and her husband own the restaurant. They are originally from Brooklyn.”
“Seriously?” Chelsea asked, delighted. “Does that mean you make New York style pizza?”
“It does.” The woman grinned.
“This is why I’m here once a week,” Master Alexander confirmed.
“How soon can we order?” Chelsea teased.
Even though there was a waiting line, Daniela showed them to a private alcove. Knowing the owner clearly had privileges.
“Something to drink?” she asked.
”Your choice.” Master Alexander met her gaze.
Chelsea knew his rules about drinking and sceneing. Though a glass of chianti appealed to her, she was interested in what he had planned. “How about a soda?” Something sweet and syrupy, a rare indulgence, just like the dinner.
”Pellegrino for me.”
As Chelsea attempted to get comfortable on the plug, Daniela returned with the beverages and a basket filled with warm, yeasty garlic knots.
“This place must be what heaven is like,” Chelsea exclaimed, placing one of the small treats onto a plate.
“I’m glad you’re happy.” Daniela smiled then looked at Alexander. “Much better than your ex-wife.”
Without another word, she bustled away.
Her curiosity sky-high, Chelsea offered the plate to her trainer.
“You remembered.” He nodded, and his voice held a note expressing his pleasure. “I know it may not come naturally to you, Chelsea, but you are learning fast.”
He offered the plate back to her.
“Sir?” She drew her eyebrows together.
“It matters that you thought to do it. Enjoy.” He helped himself to one of the rolls.
Her first bite was amazing, pure buttery goodness, everything she could hope for. “This is wonderful.”
“I’m glad you’re happy.”
“You can’t seriously come here often.” She slid a glance over his lean, sexy body.
“Followed by a workout the next morning.”
“I bet.” She slid her plate to one side after only two small bites.
“Eat up.” His grin was wolfish. “You’re going to need your stamina.”
Eating—thinking—when he spoke like that was nearly impossible.
After she’d finished her piece of bread, she considered him. “The woman Daniela mentioned was Liz, right?”
He took a sip of his water, and she wondered if he intended to answer.
“You’ve been digging around in my past a lot.”
“Doesn’t mean I need to return the favor. Wiggle your butt.”
Dratted Dominant.
Under his watchful eye, she ground herself on the plug. Then he smiled.
“Your discomfort is wonderful. I enjoy it very much.”
“That makes one of us, Sir.”
He grinned. “And yes, Liz came here with me, once. But she behaved badly.”
“Oh?”
“You may stop moving but sit up straight.”
Intrigued, she didn’t consider arguing. “You mentioned she was a masochist and that she ended the relationship?”
“That’s correct.”
“Why? I mean, if you’re a Dom and she’s a masochist… I don’t understand.”
“My punishments were not enough for her, and the challenges she presented to me—to us—kept escalating.” With a shrug, he shoved his empty plate to the side. “When it became clear I couldn’t meet her needs, she found someone who would. Someone much more extreme. A sadist.” He raised his brows. “Someone who delights in inflicting pain. That person is not me.”
When he was silent for a long time, clearly finished with his story, she spoke. “It had to hurt.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Wounds take time to heal.”
“They do. Indeed.”
“Then it means even more that you are willing to work with me. But I’m curious about something.”
“Hmm?”
“Is that one of the reasons you’re so tough on me?”
“No. That’s part of training.”
The arrival of their pepperoni pizza stopped their conversation.
This time, when she offered him the first slice, he accepted. His nod of thanks made her warm inside. Maybe this service thing wasn’t all bad.
The sight of the warm, gooey cheese made her mouth water. After dousing her piece with crushed hot peppers, she sank her teeth in. “Oh my God.” She sat back. “That’s it. I’m packing my stuff and moving so I can be closer to this place.”
“You wouldn’t be sorry. Everything on the menu is amazing. Sit up straight.”
He was merciless.
After she swore she couldn’t eat another bite, Daniela packed their leftovers in a box, then placed a white bag on top of it. “Tiramisu for you and your lovely lady.”
“That’s too kind,” Chelsea protested.
Master Alexander reached for his wallet, but Daniela waved him off. “Seeing you finally happy is worth it.” With a wave, she left them.
“You are well liked here.” Another new side to him. She saw him as a badass while he showed other people different parts of his personality, intriguing her more.
“Shall we?”
Outside, the air was mild, a picture-perfect Colorado summer evening. “As we were getting out of the SUV, I noticed a park. Would you mind if we took a short walk?”
He cocked an eyebrow.
“I could use the exercise.”
“Not a bad idea.”
They placed the leftovers in the car, then followed the sidewalk to a path leading into the green space.
Side by side, they walked in companionable silence, and she was so relaxed she was almost able to forget about the plug, barely noticing it shifting around inside her.
Without discussion, they stopped on a bridge that crossed a gently flowing creek.
Motion caught her eye, and she looked up to see a shooting star. “Make a wish!” At that moment, she closed her eyes to make one of her own… To experience true love.
The thought startled her. She hadn’t been expecting that. Success, happiness, money? Those were the things she wanted.
When she opened her eyes, Master Alexander was studying her.
“Looks serious,” he observed. “Care to share?”
“It’s secret. If I tell you, it won’t come true.”
“Fanciful.”
“Probably. But harmless, right?” She shrugged. “Did you make one?”
“If I told you, it won’t come true.”
“Touché, Sir. Well done.”
They continued on for a few more minutes, before walking back to his SUV.
“You know,” she said when they were on the road, “I would still like to earn Monahan Capital’s business.”
“We shouldn’t complicate this any further.”
Complicate? She turned to look at him, but his gaze was focused out the windshield.
When he’d first talked about Liz, he mentioned how much the ending of the relationship bothered him—partly because their lives had been so entwined.
Before she could ask for clarification, he pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine.
Once inside, he locked the door. “Take off your clothes and return to the living room while I put away the leftovers.”
The easy camaraderie they’d shared earlier was instantly a thing of the past.
As she lowered herself to her knees to wait, she realized she shouldn’t allow herself to forget that she was always in training.
He returned to stand over her. “Before we go any further, shall we discuss your training schedule? We have only a short time together and several things to cover. Of course, we will spend some time on anal.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I was afraid of that, Sir.”
“As well as holding your tongue.” He smiled.
Good luck with that.
“We’ll also work on being bound and restrained, service, and how to take a spanking properly. We’ve had some time apart. Is there anything you’d like to add to your limits list?”
“No, there isn’t.”
“Your Dom will expect you to be excellent at sucking cock, so you’ll spend time practicing that, as well.”
Her nerves shattered. “Can I ask a question about that?”
“Of course.”
“We had sex at the Den…”
“Would you prefer we didn’t fuck?”
“No.” She chose her words. “I know you don’t want things to be confused, but I would like you to fuck me.”
“That’s no hardship,” he assured her.
“I also find it difficult when I’m naked and you’re dressed.”
“It’s a good reminder of our positions. Be assured, it’s quite intentional. And besides, I rather enjoy looking at your body.”
“I understand, Sir.” Even if I don’t like it.
“Is there anything specific you’d like to learn or spend time on?”
She was silent for a moment as she considered what she wanted to say. He expected her to reveal things that made her uncomfortable—that was part of the whole submission thing. She was accustomed to playing coy games with men, to teasing, to saying what they wanted to hear. But he’d proven he wouldn’t settle for that.
“Chelsea?”
The knowledge that they would part after two weeks gave her confidence. It didn’t matter what she said, since they wouldn’t have a relationship going forward. The honesty demanded of a D/s arrangement left her a bit breathless. “I want to be able to endure whatever my Dom wants with confidence.”
“As long as it’s not on your limits list,” he amended. “Or something where you need to use your safe word. This isn’t about heroics.” Even as he said that, he moved across the room to pick up the hated collar. “I’d like to see how well you’re doing on your postures.”
Nothing like an immediate test of what she’d said. “Of course, Sir.”
“Anything to say before I fasten you into it?”
Right now, she understood why his firm had been such a big success in business, despite the Bartholomew deal, and why many of the firm’s big clients had stayed with them. With the way he focused so intently, he had a way of making people feel listened to and heard. He didn’t multitask. He gave his full attention. “I think I said this before, I felt humiliated.” She gnawed on her bottom lip. “Unimportant.”
His touch gentle, he took her chin and tilted her head back. “Let me make this clear,” he said. “I no longer train subs. So the fact you’re here says you matter, that I find something remarkable about you. I respect you, Chelsea, and your commitment. I keep my distance on purpose to ensure your safety and to remember our boundaries.”
After his experience with his former wife, maybe she didn’t blame him.
Quietly, he continued on, in the same serious vein. “You may struggle with your feelings, and it’s my job to help you manage your emotional state, as well as my own. BDSM is a serious business and needs to be treated as such. Make no mistake, Chelsea. There is nothing, nothing, impersonal about this to me.”
Hearing those words released some of her angst.
“Any questions?”
“No, Sir.”
“Please, Chelsea, use your safe word or ask me to go slow if you need to. We can talk about anything at any time.”
“Thank you, Sir. I’m better now.” Submission was uncharted territory. Playing at parties was nothing like being with Master Alexander.
“When you’re ready, stand and turn your back to me.”
Conscious of the way he watched her so intently, she stood. Since he hadn’t given instructions on what to do with her hands, she clenched them by her sides.
“Constricting any of your muscles will increase your mental discomfort. Uncurl your hands, Chelsea.”
He truly didn’t miss anything.
“I’m going to tighten the collar more than last time, to keep your chin a bit more rigid.”
Part of her wished he wouldn’t tell her his intentions. She gulped as he fastened it, and even Master Alexander’s breaths were sharper than before.
When he was finished, he said, “Face me.”
Slowly, she pivoted.
“Good.” He took a step back to look at her. He adjusted her collar slightly and moved hair back from her forehead. “Come with me,” he said.
He picked up the ever-present cane.
Curious, she followed him up the stairs and gripped the banister lightly to retain her equilibrium. She was more aware of her body than she’d ever been. With every step the plug jostled inside her. And the collar prevented her from looking around. She moved slowly, exaggeratedly, in a way that left her feeling utterly feminine.
He led the way into his bedroom. “Over there,” he said, pointing and stepping aside.
A cheval mirror was angled in the corner. “Sir?”
“I want you to see what I do,” he said.
Feeling somewhere between awkward and ridiculous, she moved toward the mirror. The room was reflected behind her, and she saw him drop the cane on the darkly masculine bedspread. “I don’t understand, Sir.”
He stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.
Instead of looking at herself, she stared at his reflection. For the first time, she noticed a slight jagged scar above his right eyebrow.
“Look at how symmetrical your body appears with your head so straight and your shoulders back. See how open you appear. It’s that juxtaposition. You look more confident, which also makes you more appealing as a submissive.”
She looked at her reflection and scowled. All she noticed was her flaws—the extra weight around her hips and the swell of her belly. “The mirror and I are not best friends, Sir.”
Since he didn’t let go, she had no choice but to continue to stare, even though she hated to. Generally, she hurried through styling her hair, which consisted of scrunching the short, wet strands with a dollop of mousse. Then she slathered foundation on her face, applied a coat of mascara and walked away.
“I want you to see yourself through my eyes,” he prompted. “Look at your beauty.”
Instead, her gaze went to his reflection.
“Be proud of yourself. Now arch your back slightly so your chest sticks out farther.”
She did.
“Do you notice the difference?”
Looking at herself, she wrinkled her nose. “Maybe? Some.”
He frowned. “Don’t move.” Then he took off her collar. “Stand the way you usually do.”
She shook out her arms, drew her feet closer together, and allowed her shoulders to roll forward. Her chin lowered a bit, too.
“Now look again.”
“I think I finally understand.” The contrast shocked her. Standing up straight did add a confident air.
Without being instructed, she moved around, lifting her head, drawing her shoulder blades together, spreading her legs for balance. The plug continued to remind her of its presence, but she no longer found it annoying.
“Your confidence in your submission makes you even more beautiful, Chelsea.”
“But…” She tried to express her inner struggle. “I’m always confident.”
“This is next level. You’re naked, exposed, and you’re standing there proudly. God, it’s sexy. And you can express gratitude for the compliment.”
She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten. “Thank you, Sir.”
Once more, she tilted her chin as he secured the collar and checked the fit. This time, she admitted it changed the way she stood.
“Because of your aversion to looking at yourself, I will put you through your paces in front of the mirror. Watch yourself and correct any flaws.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Kneel up.”
He stood to the side of her, cane held loosely in his right hand. She concentrated on each movement.
Watching her movements helped her to notice that she was leaning slightly to the left. Frowning with determination, she brought herself back to center.
“That’s it,” he approved.
In the glass, she met his gaze. He was impossibly handsome, and so different from men she had ever been attracted to before. So why did her heart quicken when she looked at Master Alexander?
“Inspect.”
Since he didn’t touch her, she knew he was just checking her positioning.
“Legs farther apart.” With the cane, he tapped the inside of her right ankle. “Much better. Kneel up.”
He made her go through every move no less than a dozen times. With each movement, the plug shifted.
“We have the matter of the unfinished practice from the first night you were here—when you defied me. Do you recall?”
Her mouth opened slightly. As if I’d ever forget. The evening had started wonderfully and ended up being one that made her question everything. “I thought we were even on that.”
“Oh? Why would you expect that?”
Standing here, facing him, remembering that night, her heart pounded.
“If you refuse to do something and walk away without safe wording or using your slow word, you expect transgressions to be pardoned and never mentioned again?”
“Sir…” Being unable to use her hands challenged her muscles in unique and uncomfortable ways. “You did spank me,” she reminded him desperately.
“True. But even after that, you still refused to do what was required.”
His version of BDSM was much more rigid than hers. In her world, a spanking should even the score. Yet, knowing about Liz and how she’d been a masochist, she understood his viewpoint better.
“I’ll give you two options. Three dozen movements now…”
At the end of the day, when she was already tired and stuffed full of a metal plug?
“Or six dozen at a later date of my choosing.”
Her breath whooshed out. Was that his version of an actual choice?
“What’s it to be?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to hide her frustration. “I’ll do them now.”
“Smart. Very smart. Get on with it when you’re ready. The longer you delay, the worse it will seem.”
That was probably the truth.
Aware of his scrutiny, she once more lowered herself to the floor.
“And look in the mirror.”
The second part of his order was the most difficult.
Lesson learned. If she’d safe worded or simply performed her movements that night, she’d have spared herself a spanking and him adding additional requirements to his original order.
Because she was already fatigued, her motions were less elegant than even minutes before, and she moved slower, which meant it took more time than usual to get through her paces.
By the time she’d finished, her body was dotted with perspiration, and her muscles demanded a long soak in Epsom salts.
“Well done.”
That one little statement vanquished all her agony.
“Now stand with your hands folded loosely at your back.” When she did, he asked, “Do you recall how you insisted you didn’t want the cane to be used on your pussy?”
She shuddered. “Uhm…” She couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. “You said you might punish my pussy with it.”
“Tonight I’m going to show you it can be pleasurable.”
The sight of him holding the cane filled her vision.
“I’m going to have you move through the positions again, but this time your wrists will be attached to the collar.”
Did he say and do things in order to keep her guessing? She was expecting him to use the rattan on her, but instead he’d decided to cuff her. Suddenly that seemed like the lesser of two evils.
“Anything you say, Sir.”
“Very well done.” He leaned the cane against the mirror where she couldn’t forget about it. Clearly he had a sadistic streak.
He walked into his closet and returned with cuffs. Within seconds, he had her wrists attached to the D-rings on her collar.
“Keep your eyes on your reflection as you kneel back.”
She was concentrating on him, and on what she was doing, so intently that his strict bondage didn’t upset her.
“Fabulous,” he said, when he’d had her stop in the inspect pose. “You were wobbly a couple of times, but since you couldn’t use your hands for balance, you did better than I expected. Your practice is paying off. Soon you’ll have full mastery.”
Soaring, she grinned. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Do you have a full-length mirror at home?”
“I do.”
“Good. From here on, do your exercises in front of it.”
Which meant making friends with the mirror, or at least not seeing it as an enemy. He didn’t ask for much.
He moved around her to pick up the cane then stood next to the mirror.
Wave after wave of nervousness crashed into her.
“There’s not as much room in here as I’d like. We’ll go to the play room.”
Walking behind him, she was very much aware of her submission. She tried to drop her head, but the collar prevented it.
He moved aside the chair so that they had a large, open space.
“Stand in the middle of the floor, face me, and spread your feet as far as you can.”
All of a sudden, her legs were leaden, and she had to force herself to move.
“If you have the right attitude, you may enjoy it. Do you need to discuss anything?”
“Do I have to be wearing the collar?”
“I prefer it, yes. I want to keep your hands out of the way.”
“So I can’t protect myself?”
“You won’t need to. I promise you.”
When he used that tone of voice—part purr, all Dominant assertiveness—she’d follow him anywhere, do anything for him.
“Any further questions?”
“No. No, Sir,” she amended.
He flicked his wrist a few times, and the rattan whistled as it cut through the air. She curled her toes into the floor. “Sir, I don’t think I’ve ever been more terrified in my life.”
“Would you like an orgasm this evening?”
“Not from that thing.” She scowled at the cane.
“Ye of little faith,” he mocked.
Doubtful, apprehensive, she exhaled. “But yes, I would like an orgasm, Sir.”
“In that case, open your mouth.”
Without argument, she complied.
“Suck my fingers,” he said, voice sandpapery and sensual.
A moment later, he moved his hand between her legs, sliding his slickened fingers across her pussy until she helplessly jerked against his hand, crying out.
“Oh, Sir.” She wanted to wrap her arms around him and thrust her hips.
“Not so quick. You are needy, aren’t you?”
The effects of his orgasm denial collided inside her, ratcheting up her tension. Her legs trembled as she wordlessly sought more. He continued to play with her until she was on her toes, within moments of coming.
Then once more, he stopped.
“Sir! You’re an absolute nightmare,” she protested, slamming her heels back to the floor.
“You’ll earn it.”
“I thought I already had, Sir.”
“I’ll decide that, girl.” He stepped back and picked up the cane. “Let’s see how desperate you are.”
Fear licked at the edges of arousal.
Lightly, he brought the rattan between her legs to tap her clit.
“How’s that?”
“Not as bad as I feared,” she admitted.
“A little harder?”
“I’m not sure about that, Sir.”
“We’ll try it, shall we? Remember to say slow or use your safe word if you freak out or can’t endure it.” With those reassuring words, he stepped back a couple of inches and increased the pressure of his skillful strokes.
As he continued, Chelsea cried out. Not from pain, but because she liked it. The fact she was restrained and helpless added to the delirium. “Sir, I’m really turned on,” she admitted, surprising herself. “I need to come. Please? Please, may I?”
He didn’t answer, and she jerked and whimpered from her arousal.
“Sir? Master Alexander? I can’t take any more. I swear. Please!”
Instead of allowing her to get off, he frustratingly moved the cane away, leaving her heaving, nerve endings singed.
She drank in several deep breaths.
“Do you have yourself under control?” he asked softly, about fifteen seconds later.
She met his gaze, but wished she could look down. Until he had introduced her to the posture collar, she’d had no idea how often she would glance at the floor to hide her emotions. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good. You’re doing very well. I’m proud of you. But there’s more.” He placed the length between her labia. “Slide your clit against the cane,” he instructed.
She had to bend her knees a bit to get enough pressure against the rattan. “This seemed easier in theory.”
“I meant it as a challenge. Now move as if you’re fucking the implement.”
His dirty talk made her tummy turn somersaults.
The wood was thin, and her damp pussy slid effortlessly along the waxed length. Despite her initial embarrassment, she ground herself against it, becoming wetter and wetter with each stroke. The sensations of the plug shifting inside of her and the way it dragged against the rattan overwhelmed her.
Her breathing rate increased as physical desire trampled rational thinking.
Master Alexander slipped an arm around her, drawing her closer, lending her more of his strength.
“That’s it,” he encouraged.
The raspy sound of his voice against her ear drove her on. She’d never been with a man this primal, and he unleashed a wild, wanton part of her.
A climax unlike any other built inside her. “Sir, may I?” Her entire body shook from the exertion and denial.
“Have you earned it?”
Her response was instinctive and honest. “That’s for you to decide, Sir.” Since he hadn’t told her to stop, she continued to frantically grind herself against the cane.
He forced the wood against her even harder. Her craving became desperation, and she clenched her buttocks, frantic to fight off the orgasm. “I beg you, Sir! Please, please.”
“One more time.”
“Please, Sir,” she begged him. “Please.”
“That’s a good pet. You may come for me.”
His permission unshackled her, leaving her jerking and sobbing. The slickness of her pussy and the unyielding force of the cane became one, then gathered force. His voice encouraged her, his motions drove her.
“Come now,” he ordered. “Right now.”
As the long-denied climax crashed into her, Chelsea screamed.
Her body shook, from the intensity as much as the relief.
She’d been wholly unprepared for an experience like this one.
At some point, while she sobbed, the rattan clattered against the floor, and she was swept into his embrace as he whispered soft, reassuring words in her ear.
When she finally became aware of the world around them, she was in his lap and seated in the chair, curled up against him. In her entire life, she’d never felt safer, more secure. Or wanted.
“You pleased me.”
She met the glittering passion in his eyes.
“There’s more for you. If you dare.”