Chapter 19
“And what will you say if you want to stop?”
“Red, Ma’am.”
“If you need to slow down?”
“Yellow, Ma’am.”
“And if I ask to check in and you’re enjoying everything with no concerns or complaints?”
“Green, Ma’am.”
He looks so earnest. I hope he knows what he’s in for.
“Very well. Let’s begin.”
“Do we really need to have a formal meeting in your office? I thought we already talked about things you liked and things I wanted to try.”
Thatcher’s earnest confusion softens me a bit, and I remember Misha’s warning.
“This isn’t a stranger at the club, moya tsaritsa. This is Teddy’s best friend. He’ll be in our lives forever, at every family gathering and birthday party for the children. Don’t forget that he’s used to being the user in his relationships, not the used.”
“I wanted us to have a chance to go over the document you filled out for me, and to make sure you didn’t have any questions about mine.
” The list of activities I sent him was abbreviated from the boilerplate version I usually send my submissive partners, but I figured it’s better to start small with Thatcher since he doesn’t have any experience in the kink world.
“It would have been awkward to have you fill out a sex questionnaire, then fuck you without us talking about it, don’t you think? ”
My smile reassures him, tension leaving his shoulders as he relaxes. “It was a shorter list than I was expecting.”
“I only included my favorites. Do you have any questions? I have a few for you, but I want you to go first.”
He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket and clears his throat. Cute. “This might be the only time I’ve ever been excited about homework.” He laughs, and I want to eat him alive. “First, regarding the tying me up…the shibari, the list called it? I googled it, and some of the designs were intense.”
“Mm-hmm.” I give him my most encouraging look. He needs to learn now that he has to ask if he wants to know.
“What, uh…What do you like about it, and what do you think I would like about it? Is it about pain? I saw that further down the list. And would it cause any injuries that would affect me playing hockey?”
He’s got a pen in his hand now, ready to take notes, and I make a mental note to reward him for being such a good student. For the first time, it’s endearing to have an inexperienced submissive, and I’m proud he came prepared.
“Those are all very good questions. I’d like to answer the latter two before the former.
In no way will I ever injure you. If that happened, it would be a fluke, some element of our scene beyond my direct control.
For example, if I have you suspended from the ceiling and a structural beam of this mansion fails, then I suppose you could sustain an injury.
But so would the architect who signed off on the blueprints. ”
He relaxes a bit more, and I hate that he thought I wanted to hurt him. Well, I do. But only so he can come harder than he ever has, and to relieve the tension between my shoulders. I’d never injure him.
“So no. Certainly no injuries. I’ve never had a submissive with anything more than a rope burn, and that was per their request. This leads into pain, as you said, further down the list. You may be sore from being in one position for too long, but that should fade within a day or two and not be any worse than what you might experience after a strenuous yoga class.
I’ll never push your muscles past their ability to stretch, and I’ll check in often to make sure your circulation is never impaired. ”
This is the part that’s harder to explain, and I hope I don’t lose him.
“As far as the pain, I do enjoy inflicting it, I won’t deny that.
Unless we uncover that you’re a closeted masochist, though, the pain that I give you will be overwhelmed by more pleasure, always, and driven by what we learn that you like.
It might not be immediate pleasure, or the pleasure that you would choose, but you’ll always find the balance will ultimately tip in your favor. Does that make sense?”
Thatcher’s doing an excellent job of listening, even as his cock hardens down his thigh. If he’s interested so far…
“It does make sense. I guess I didn’t realize how much thought you’d be giving to my pleasure, to be honest. Sorry, I don’t mean to make you sound thoughtless…”
With a sigh, I come around my desk to sit in the chair beside him instead of facing him down like his boss…even though I will be, in a way, soon.
“You don’t have to be sorry for telling me how you feel or what you think. That’s a big part of the first two questions you asked me, about what we would each gain from this arrangement.”
I have his absolute attention now, beautiful eyes locked on mine as I try to explain why I am the way I am, without actually explaining.
“As to what I like about bondage in particular, as you may have gleaned from spending time with me, I prefer to be in control of as much of my life as possible. This is magnified during sexual encounters for me, where I prefer complete control. Bondage ensures that I know exactly how you can and can’t move, and knowing that lets me relax and enjoy myself in a way that’s very hard in my everyday life.
I’ve told people before that it’s like playing chess, but with the bonus of controlling all the pieces.
For me, that relieves a great deal of anxiety and allows me to connect with someone in a way that feels safe and on my terms. Shibari is a more aesthetic, intricate type of bondage that I enjoy but don’t always take the time to do. Sometimes you’ll be very simply bound.”
“Why do you—”
Ugh, he was being so good. He doesn’t need that answer. As far as I’m concerned, Misha and I can take it to our graves. I interrupt his interruption and raise a censurious brow so he doesn’t try again.
“And the infliction of pain I like is because I like it. As simple as that. Regarding what you get out of it, with the bondage…I really think it might be something that centers you. I’m in charge, and you can just float for a while and not have to think about a single thing except enduring what I give you.
It’s an intense connection, and I hope you’ll enjoy it just as I do.
The trust you’d have in me to give you more pain and pleasure than you think you can handle, only for you to realize you can take more than you thought you could. ”
He’s quiet as we compare notes on the remaining items on the short list, and I’m impressed by his willingness to try new things.
I tell him as much and ask him if he has any questions.
Apparently, enough time has passed for him to regain his usual confidence because he leans into my space, stopping an inch from my lips to give his answer.
“Just one, Boss. When do we start?”
We stayed in my office a while longer that day, having a lighter-hearted conversation about my favorite flogger and how soft the jute rope I prefer is.
He asked if I had any rules for him outside the bedroom, but I demurred.
If he was disappointed that I just asked him to continue bonding with the men, he quickly covered it and asked if I’d punish him during a scene.
Those rules were easy to describe, and he turned beet red at the mention of maintenance spanking.
I don’t plan to start too heavy with the degradation, though.
Too many variables could spell disaster during a first session.
The tension was thick by the time I left for my evening meeting, and with the merger ramping up seemingly every day, it wasn’t until today that I had time to give Thatcher the attention he deserves. And to get what I deserve, too.
Now, lost in my thoughts as I enter the peaceful zone of tying someone up at my mercy, I enjoy the needy, panting boy waiting for me.
“Are any of your muscles straining in any way? Anything pulling, pinching, or uncomfortable, including where the ropes touch your skin?”
“No…Ma’am,” he pants, and I can’t help my low chuckle. He’s in for such a long evening. By the time I’m done with him, he’ll either be running for the hills or begging for a full course of what I’m offering. Tonight’s just an appetizer.
“I would enjoy this position if I were you, solnyshko. This is the only time you’ll ever be this comfortable with me. But I need to know you truly enjoy being immobilized, so we’ll start here.”
He really is getting off easy tonight. Well, not getting off easy.
Seated on the plush bench at the end of the bed, his ankles are spread wide and securely attached to the solid legs at either corner.
His arms are in a position I’m quite proud of, wide but comfortable, with elbows slightly bent and no tension in his shoulders.
The combination of my chest harness and his wrists pulled taut to the bed posts means that, if he weren’t tied up, he could be mistaken for simply manspreading and relaxing against the end of my bed.
As it is, he can’t move a muscle. Not even his hips, banded and rigged to the bedframe as well.
It wouldn’t do to have him able to thrust. We decided no gag and no blindfold tonight, to ensure I can read his gaze and sense discomfort before he can even verbalize it.
If he’s a bad boy who speaks without being spoken to, he’ll be punished, and he knows it, but I need to know how he reacts before I take away his voice.
“You’re beautiful, solnyshko. Have I told you today?”
“No, Ma’am.” He moans as I drag my nails through his thick hair, scratching his scalp and forcing my breasts into his face. I can only imagine how much he’d love to draw one of my nipples into his mouth, but he’s still.
“You are. Sculpted as if from marble, my handsome boy.” I scratch down his chest, perfectly framed by the harness I tied around his pecs, and trace each ab on my way down.
Ignoring his cock, I tease his inner thighs with soft touches, relishing the carousel of emotions that flash through his eyes as he tries to thrust into my touch but can’t move a muscle.
This first experience for him will never come again, and I know immediately, instinctively that I’ll never forget it.
A moment of panic, anger, lust as he struggles briefly against my restraints then stops, recognizing futility when he feels it.
His cock, hard for ages at this point, flexes, the only part of him currently able to rebel against my command to be still.
I can’t help but continue, tracing a single line in a circle around his weeping length, barely grazing his balls as I move underneath.
It’s mesmerizing to watch his abs flex as he fights the urge to move but tries to relax like my good boy.
Even as a sheen of sweat forms across his forehead and chest, he hasn’t tried to thrust again.
“You’re being very good for me, keeping your hips still while I inspect you. I particularly appreciate you for making sure this cock was ready and waiting for me. You’re keeping it nice and hard, which is useful because I’ll certainly be needing it. Later.”
He whimpers, and I laugh again before moving to my nightstand to grab lube and the masturbator that’s likely to be his archenemy by the end of the night.
Edging is my priority for this evening, to push him into discomfort in only one way, leaving my flogger in its case for now.
It’s why I have him in such a relaxed position. Nothing should ache except his balls.
Pulling the custom stool I had delivered between his legs, I sit and continue to tease as his hot gaze rakes over me.
I can only imagine how much he’d like to touch me.
Dolling myself up has been one of my favorite parts of play for as long as I can remember, and the strappy latex lingerie I’m wearing should contribute to Thatcher’s torture nicely.
Finally touching the tip of his cock, I swipe the precum beading there and lick it off my finger obscenely.
His eyes roll, then close, and I take the opportunity to make my move.
Lubing up my hand, I stop wasting time, gripping his cock firmly and giving him quick strokes. A twist at his head has his eyes popping open and every muscle in his body tensing as he tries to move.
“You poor thing. Did I scare you? Why?”
“Yes, Ma’am. I wasn’t expecting…” He groans intelligibly as I continue working him like getting him off is my only mission in life. “I, ugh. I thought you would keep teasing, for a while, with the, uh…edging.”
My dark laugh sparks fear in his eyes, and I sense that he only now understands at all what he’s in for.
“There are many ways to edge a man, and it isn’t all light teasing. No, I want to warm you up, then keep you on fire. I want you to burn for hours.”