On His Terms Page 3

She took a little breath. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Now, about my birthday spanking…”

  “Yes? Yes, Sir?”

  “Let’s go to the dungeon.” He pointed towards the stairs. “After you.”

  Chelsea grabbed her wine, and he closed his hand around her wrist.

  “Sober, or not at all,” he told her.

  She hesitated, then nodded. He released her and her hand shook as she returned the glass to the mantel. Their gazes met, and she looked away first.

  She moved cautiously down the stairs, likely gripping the banister as much for balance as to settle her nerves.

  Speakers blasted Evan C’s music through the space. Lighting was dim, and the conversation was loud to compete with the band. “Give me your wrist,” he said.

  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 rumour 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 it with her left hand, but it was doable if she panicked. “But I’d prefer if you remain where I want you while I go to the bar.” He knew it would be easier for her if he remained standing near her.

  “I’m the only one tied up like this.”

  “Yes,” he said. “You are.” He noticed she drew her eyebrows together and wondered if she was going to protest. “You’re being a good girl.”

  “You know I find that a bit insulting.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” But he wasn’t surprised she felt that way. “It’s not meant to be anything but an expression of my approval. Until you can see that, you’ll never be a good sub. 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.”

  “Oh, God. I mean… Thank you, Sir.”

  That he had to coach her to use her manners for something so monumental informed him how unschooled she really was.

  He kept a surreptitious eye on her as he ordered two bottles of water from the bar. A waiter carrying a tray of wine walked past her, ignoring her completely. He saw her pull against the tether in obvious consternation.

  Rather than engaging in conversation with other Doms, he returned to her immediately. “When you’re better trained, things like that won’t bother you,” he promised. “Again, concentrate on what pleases your Dom. I tied you to the wall because I wanted to, not because you were being punished. What would the experience be like if you had just centred yourself and thought about my imminent return?”

  “This is difficult, Sir.”

  “You may safe word at any time and admit I was right.”

  “Hard doesn’t mean impossible, Sir.”

  “In that case, next time I’ll place you naked in the stocks. I understand 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.”

  Colour drained from her face.

  “And you’ll thank me for the experience,” he told her. “In fact, your lack of gratitude is a bit off-putting.”

  “I think I’m confused,” she said.

  “My time is valuable. Especially since it’s my birthday, I would think I could find someone a little more agreeable to play with.” One of the female servers, dressed in an apron and nothing else, was standing near the bar, looking over the space to see if she might be needed. He signalled to her, and she hurried over. Though she moved with purpose and speed, her motions were graceful.

  “Sir?” she asked. “May I be of service?”

  She had a purple band on her wrist. At the Den, this indicated she was a submissive. He knew that Damien often hired professionals to attend his parties. Unattached Doms enjoyed knowing they’d have someone to scene with. “Are you available for a short demonstration?”

  “Of course, Sir.”

  “Do you have a safe word?”

  “Red, Sir.”

  “Anything else I need to know about you…Brandy, is it?”

  She smiled. “Thank you for remembering, 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.”

  Her lips were set in a tight line, but she said nothing.

  “Remove your apron,” he said to Brandy.

  Within moments, she stood in front of him, naked.

  “Please present your breasts.”

  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 extraordinarily hard.”

  “Of course, Sir.”

  He gave her a couple of gentle squeezes, preparing her for what was coming. When she leaned towards him, wordlessly indicating she was ready for more, he increased the pressure. 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 noises that sounded like a soft purr.

  When he withdrew, 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 said, “I appreciate your attentions, Sir.”

  “You’re very welcome,” he told her. He looked back at Chelsea. Her gaze was transfixed on Brandy.

  “That had to hurt,” Chelsea said.

  Brandy looked at him for approval. After he nodded, she answered Chelsea. “It did. But Master Alexander knows what he is doing. He stopped before it became too uncomfortable, and I am aroused, and I know I can take more. I always thank a Dom for his attention.”

  Gregorio walked over to them.

  “Kneel,” Alex instructed Brandy.

  The woman knelt gracefully, her legs spread wide, and she rested 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.

  He and Gregorio continued their conversation, ignoring both women.

  Finally, the other man excused himself.

  “Very nice, Brandy. Thank you for your assistance. You may get up and dress.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  She donned the apron, then returned to her duties.

  He faced Chelsea again. “That kind of behav
iour, 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.”

  He nodded. “Brave girl.”

  He waited, but she didn’t protest that he’d called her girl. As he unfastened the metal buckle, he was forced to admit a grudging respect for her. 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 practise in public. Fighting emotions was more difficult when you weren’t alone with your Dom. “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 maybe 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.”

  She rubbed at her wrist, but she tipped her head back. “Would you like me to follow you, Sir?”

  He grabbed their water bottles and started down the hall, not checking to see whether or not she followed. He entered their assigned space and moved towards the side wall. As he familiarised himself with the paraphernalia and apparatus, he said, “Please strip.” He didn’t look over his shoulder to see if she complied. “Then kneel in the centre of the room. Some Doms will permit you to use a mat. I will not.”

  As always, Master Damien ensured each room in the dungeon was well-stocked. Damien was not only a gracious host, but a shrewd businessman—Alex knew a production company often filmed at the Den and on its surrounding acreage. Because of the contract Master Damien had signed, he was able to let others use the facilities at very little charge. A couple of 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 of pairs of surgical gloves, then pulled out a bottle of lube.

  He looked at the few assorted floggers, spankers and other implements hanging on the wall. He heard her moving around as he selected a thick flogger, apparently crafted from deer hide. It should provide a nice thud, but nothing too intense for her virgin skin.

  When he faced her, she was in the same position Brandy had been in earlier. Chelsea was even looking at the floor. Her skirt and shirt were folded precisely. If she had actually removed all her clothes, he would have been quite satisfied with her behaviour. “What instructions were you given, girl?”

  She looked up. “To strip and to kneel, Sir.”

  “Do you understand the meaning of the word naked?”

  “I…” She sighed and rolled her hands into tight fists.

  He wasn’t sure if she was apprehensive or whether she was frustrated with him. “Was your thong expensive?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “No emotional attachment to it?”

  She frowned. “Of course not, 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?”

  “I’m happy to remove it, Sir.”

  “You had the opportunity. You asked no questions, therefore I believed you understood the instructions. When I asked you to repeat them, you did, perfectly. So again, did the bra cost a week’s salary?”

  “No, Sir.”

  He moved behind her to release the hooks, then he squatted in front her of her again as he cut through the shoulder straps. The ruined scrap of lace fell to the floor, near her thong. He caught her chin. “Lesson learnt?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she said, eyes 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, “It’s not my favourite. I prefer 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 knee. “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 cane. “Even more.” When he was satisfied, he nodded. “This makes it possible to punish your pussy if I desire.”

  “I… Yeah. Scared.”

  “No need to be. Yet.”

  “You’re trying to terrify me, aren’t you, Sir? I think a cane on the pussy might be on the limits list.”

  “It doesn’t have to be wicked,” he said. “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 helpless to move. For others, it’s simply a perfunctory part of the relationship.”

  Like most novice subs, 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 had something to do with it, he was sure, but also, that kind of motion taxed the body. “If you want to hold a Dom’s interest, you’ll practise that a hundred times a day. With heels, without shoes, holding a tray, hands in various positions. Doms expect beautiful movements…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. 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.”

  “More trips to the gym are in order,” she observed.

  “I have a tongue clamp if you can’t keep your mouth shut.”

  She didn’t respond.

  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, I know, unimaginably, enjoy the experience. It’s all up to you.” He walked around her. “You have a lovely body, Chelsea. You may thank me for the compliment.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Nice tits. Not too big. Thick nipples.”

  She was silent for a moment and he tapped her forearm with the cane to prompt her.
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br />   “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Now I’m going to see about the responsiveness of your nipples.”

  She sucked in a little breath.

  “Do you have sensitive nipples, girl?”

  “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 put down the cane. “Stay in position.” He lifted her breasts slightly then tightened his grip on the firm flesh.

  Her breathing increased, but she didn’t protest.

  He moved his hands to gently squeeze her nipples. Though her mouth parted slightly, she continued to look ahead. He released her, then did it again, slightly harder. He did the same thing three times. “Now your cunt.” 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. Some Doms prefer that look.” 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 upwards 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 he was betting on her using her safe word. Finally, as he stood there waiting, 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 mouth. “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 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, 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. Or you can get on with it. Stalling 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.”