He tosses my cap aside, peels off his tee-shirt and pulls it down over my head. Edward waits patiently for my hands to seek the arm holes, then slides his shirt the rest of the way down my body. Grateful for the warmth of the black cotton that’s been soaking up his body heat for the last two hours, I hum appreciatively.
“Can you sit down?”
I attempt gingerly. The brown ultrasuede fabric provides as soft a landing surface as possible for my recently spanked rear. Though it brings a cringe, I am able to sit. Edward can’t quite hide his little smirk at my discomfort.
“Sorry, sweetheart. That kind of goes with the territory. Why don’t you take off the rest of that costume while I go and get the balm?”
From my perch on the sofa, I look up at him while he’s talking. He’s standing in front of me, gloriously bare-chested, in his dark jeans and those intimidating boots. And hell if he isn’t making me all gooey inside again. He turns to go and I reach for the awful green heels.
I’m just rolling off the second stocking when he returns with a small jar and sits down next to me in the middle of the couch. He taps his leg a couple times and says, "Come lie across Santa's lap, little girl." And frankly, I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be. I scurry into position, placing the middle of my body in between his legs and folding my arms under my face. His jeans are a little rough under my bare legs, but when he slides a hand up the shirt I’m wearing to rub my back, it hardly matters. I think I’m purring just a little bit.
“Attagirl,” he says. “I’ve got you.”
I hear the jar open and I close my eyes. There’s a slight sting when the first of the balm hits, but his hands feel so comforting that any pain is soon forgotten. Again, I marvel at the intimacy of this situation. Edward was right about these moments where he takes over my personal care. His tenderness renders me completely in his thrall, and I sink into the couch and his legs and float away on a cloud of bliss. I love that he doesn’t spoil the moment with talk, but just focuses all of his attention on healing me. Being the recipient of that kind of loving care is nothing short of intoxicating.
After a while, his hands stop. “You’re good as new, and frankly if I don’t stop now, I won’t be much in the mood for talking.”
I push myself up and back off his legs, and I’m a little dizzy still. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Boy, you really don’t like this part at all, do you?” He pulls me into his side and I happily nestle under his arm. Against that bare chest. Ungghhh.
“It’s embarrassing. I guess I find it a lot easier to write.”
“Ah yes, your writing. Isn’t that what got you into trouble in the first place?”
“If this is trouble, then I couldn’t be happier to be in it!”
She’s noodling around with her fingers on my chest, and I have to actively focus myself on conversation. But if the other choice is sending her to the other end of the couch, I’ll work on my concentration today. “Back to the topic at hand, is anything bothering you about the scene?”
She considers the question before finally saying, “I guess I was a little confused about my punishment. I mean, it didn’t seem like I really did anything wrong. Not that I’m complaining about that …correction or anything.”
“No, you were perfect. You held your positions, your language was exactly what I demanded, your blowjob was upper crust!”
She giggles, “Glad you liked it.”
“Liked it? All right, let’s get back to your concern. You’re right, I was a little bit hard on you with the clothing, but I just wanted you to get that first correction out of the way so you wouldn’t be so scared about it.”
“Wait, so are you saying it was kind of random then? You can just pick on me and find something whenever you feel like issuing a spanking?”
“Of course I can.” She looks adorably put-upon, a child who’s just learned that the world is not fair after all.
“That said, I would never dole out serious discipline unless you’d earned it. When I use my hand, it’s more of a sensual spanking, for effect, not punishment. If you’d done something seriously wrong, I’d be more likely to use a crop or a paddle.” I watch her face turn a lovely shade of crimson.
“Now which word did that to you…crop?” Mild shoulder shrug.
“Paddle?” She turns her face away. I grab her chin and take a look at my very aroused girl. “Wow. Someone’s earning a trip to the Headmaster’s office in the near future.”
She can’t even look at me now. “Jesus, Isabella. You’re like a treasure chest of kinky fantasies. You know, you’re pretty much my dream come true, right?”
“This isn’t fair. You’re using everything I say against me!”
I laugh, “You better believe I’m going to use a paddle against you!”
She covers her face with her hands. “But you just said that’s for real infractions.”
“There are all different types of paddles, Isabella. And I can wield the same paddle in any number of different ways. I can definitely work out a scene where you get paddled that’s not about punishment.”
I’ve purposely said ‘paddle’ as many times as I could in that speech.
“Oh, GOD, Edward! You’re killing me!” She gives me a soft punch in the side, and my hand automatically grabs hers. I bring it to my lips and give her a kiss.
“Did you have any questions while we were playing? I know I haven’t taught you all your poses, and you’re doing great with that.”
“Well, I guess I have a question about having questions.”
“Okay,” I laugh.
“Am I allowed to ask you questions during the scene?”
“In general, yes, unless I’ve specifically commanded you not to talk or make noise.”
“What about when you told me not to come without permission? Was I supposed to ask for permission?”
“Not really. What I really wanted is for you to wait for me to grant it, exactly as you did. But, it’s really important for you to know that you could have asked, and that’s certainly one way of letting me know you’re about to lose control. And Isabella, you don’t ever want to lose control with that particular command. The penalty is steep.”
Trusting brown eyes search my face for clues. “But what if you say no, and I can’t stop it?”
“That’s a good time to safe word. You do what you need to do, outside of the scene.”
“But isn’t that cheating?”
My eyes lift to the ceiling to thank whatever Higher Power might be watching for dropping this girl into my lap. “Not exactly. It’s part of my job to know how much is too much. And if I’ve pushed you beyond where you really do have control, that should not be your problem. Unless you fail to safe word.”
“Okay, so is it okay for me to interrupt you from your football game or whatever? I didn’t know if you wanted me to go over to where you were or just stay and wait for the next command.”
“The way you asked me was perfect. Respectful, not interrupting anything I was doing, not something I’d already instructed you, using my proper title. Sure, you’re welcome to do that. But you don’t want to get in the habit of asking every question that crosses your mind, either.”
“So it’s better if I try to work things out for myself?”
“Only if you think you know what I want. And as you get to know me better, you’ll be more confident doing things without checking first. You’re going to know, for example, that I like my cucumber peeled and I like my Belvedere shaken and served in a martini glass with a twist of lime, unless I’m using the ice cubes for the scene.”
“Oh my God, those ice cubes. That was so mean!”
“It was an experiment. I wanted to see how badly you needed that relief.”
“Oh, I needed it.”
“How was it, by the way?”
“Painfully cold. But worth it,” I smile, remembering how amazing the pressure of his hand felt behind the ice, and how I couldn’t have stopped myself if I’d tried.
“Hmmm,” he gets a faraway look in his eyes. “I wonder how that would work with something else in my hand…maybe ginger…or Tabasco . . .”
“Hey! Stop that!”
He pulls me closer and plants a kiss on top of my head. “Sorry. Sometimes, I just can’t help myself.”
“So, the blowjob was good?” I ask, shamelessly digging for compliments.
“Yes, Santa enjoyed that very much. And beyond the actual mechanics, which were primo, I’d give you an A-plus for enthusiasm. Honestly, that’s nine-tenths of a great blowjob for me.”
“Well, I can tell you I was very much enthused down there. Especially after that spanking.”
“That makes two of us, babe. You have a perfect ass. You know that?”
“Ummm, you don’t really expect an answer, do you?”
“No. Not really,” he chuckles. “So, the spanking…”
“Oh, God. Why is this more humiliating than actually doing it?” I seriously cannot believe how hard it is to talk about things afterwards, but I knew he’d push me on this.
“I promise, we won’t have to talk so much as we get to know each other better, but I have to be sure you’re getting what you need from me.”
I run my hand across his washboard abs and inhale his unique scent, a mixture of cinnamon, sage, forest, and whatever he was rubbing all over those steaks earlier.
“I’m getting what I need from you.”
He chuckles. “Nice try, but that’s not getting you out of the conversation. Remember when you asked me to take care of your emotional safety? This is me doing that. Humor me, okay?”
How can I argue? “Sure.”
He slides me down so that my head is in his lap. With one hand interlaced with my fingers and the other stroking through my hair, he asks, “Was that your first spanking?”
“Was ‘that voice’ talking to you while we were doing that?”
“No,” I answer, marveling that I can’t remember hearing the voice once all afternoon.
He smiles openly at my answer. “That’s great. So it was firm enough then?”
I turn my head away from his belly, but he grasps my head and holds me still. “Come on. You can do this, Isabella,” he says softly. It’s not the stern voice of the dom, but it’s a plea from Edward.
I blow out a sigh and surge forward. “It was firm enough, considering it wasn’t a real correction. I could tell that you could’ve done more. But I didn’t need more.”
“When you say, ‘Didn’t need more,’ what do you mean?”
“If it was supposed to be sensual, it served its purpose. I was over the top desperate at that point.”
“And the pleases and thank yous?”
“God, Edward. Do you really have to ask? You know what words do to me!”
“Yeah, I do.”
My eyes shift to his, and he’s looking down at me intensely. “What?”
“Could you feel that I was there for you at the same time?”
I instantly know what he means. The hand on my back, the soothing voice, the comforting notice that it was almost over. “Yes.”
“Good,” he says, brushing his thumb along my cheekbone. “That’s really important.”
“Are we almost done with this part? I have something else I want to ask you.”
“How do you feel about extracurricular activities?”
His face falls and both his hands still on me. “Oh,” he says, sounding incredibly disappointed.
“What kind of an answer is, ‘Oh’?”
“Isabella, I thought we already discussed you seeing other men. I—”
“WHAT? NO! No, Edward. God, no.”
“I guess I don’t understand your question,” he says, still on edge.
“I’m sorry. That was my stupid roundabout way of asking how you’d feel about me…getting some relief of my own, outside our scenes.”
“Ohhhhhh. How do I feel about you masturbating?”
“Sure, if you must put it bluntly. Yes.”
His whole body relaxes, and his hand drifts down to the bottom of the shirt. “You mean like, right now?”
“Well, not necessarily right now, but maybe in the shower, or at work…”
“At work? Seriously?” Man, this girl has deep reserves of desperation that I can’t wait to tap.
“Where?” I’m picturing her corner office, with all those windows, pressed out against the cool glass, putting on a show for the building across the street…
“In the bathroom.”
Holy fuck, that’s even needier. “Jesus,” I mutter, my hand sliding down below her exposed mound. As usual, I find her wet and wanting. I slip one finger inside and she lets out a moan. “What brings this on in the middle of the work day?”
I start a rhythm of in and out, in and out, letting my hand tap against her body each time. Tell me a story, On My Knees.
“The first time, it was the day I first decided to browse the internet at work. I was looking at pictures.”
“Tell me about the pictures,” I say, sneaking the shirt up over her stomach, exposing her breasts, and gathering the material at her neck.
“Nnnnn. A girl in leather cuffs, blindfolded with a silk scarf. Another girl who was on all fours, wearing only high spiky heels and stockings. There was a hand on her back, and you could tell it was her master’s, but he wasn’t in the picture.”
I increase my pace and add another finger. Her breathing picks up.
“Isabella, tell me what that master was doing to the girl.”
“He was making her crawl, around and around the floor. Her legs were open, and her eyes were looking up at him with such longing.”
“Look at me, Isabella,” I command, and clamp my other hand suddenly around her nipple. She gasps out loud as our eyes meet. “Put your hands over your head.”
She’s like a human mandolin lying in my lap, and I’m plucking her strings. “What happens next? When she’s done crawling for him?”
“He flips her onto her back and ties her hands together above her head.”
I grab her hands together roughly and press them down against the couch. She arches her back and lifts her hips right up into my hand. “Then what?”
“He keeps brushing against her with this little…stick…or ruler…or I don’t know what-“
I mimic the motion against her clit, pulling my fingers out of her. She likes the pressure on the outside better. Good to know. I try to approximate the teasing motion she must be feeling in her imagination.
“How does that make her feel, Isabella?”
“Oh God, she’s so horny, she wants him to go faster, but he keeps it steady. This stroke…stroke…stroke…it’s driving her bonkers!”
I slow my motion to match what she’s described. She seems expert at denying herself, building the tension until she can’t possibly stand it for one more second.
“She’s begging him, ‘Please, Master, may I come? Please, please, please, Master, may I come?”
“Ask me, Isabella.”
“Please, Master, may I come?”
“No. Ask again.”
“Please, Master, may I come?”
“No. Ask again.”
“Oh GOD, MASTER, PLEASE MAY I COME?”
“Come, Isabella!” I give her clit a good hard rub and tighten my grip around her wrists. She explodes in a gorgeous wave of writhing human flesh beneath my hands.
After, I smoothe my hand down the length of her arms, over her breasts and meet the other atop her tight abdomen.
“Wow,” she says, after a good long while.
“Still need to masturbate?”
“Uh, not right now. And please don’t take this as a complaint, but you didn’t really answer my question.”
“The answer is yes, you can do whatever you want between scenes, unless you have orders otherwise.”
“Thank you,” she says, and I know it’s not just for what I’ve said, but what I’ve just done as well.
I chuckle and say, “Well, you might not want to thank me if I’ve ordered you for a few days not to touch yourself.”
The smile vanishes from her face.
“Anything else? I’m getting pretty hungry!”
“I think that’s enough for now, thanks,” she says.
“I think that’s enough for now, thanks,” she says.
“Would you like to dress for dinner?” I ask her.
“Yes. I hate eating naked.”
“Good to know,” I smirk, adding yet another indignity to throw her way.
“Shit, I’ve really got to learn to keep my mouth shut.”
“No, don’t. It’s so much more fun this way.”
“Do you want your shirt back?” she asks, pulling it over her head.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Oh brother,” she responds, rolling her eyes.