“There, under the chains.”
Beth paused for a second to see if he’d include any orders on how he wanted her to get there, but he didn’t, so she walked over to stand under the structure he’d indicated. The large metal frame looked like a piece of gym equipment—the kind used for pull-ups and cable exercises. One of the overhead cross pieces had chains dangling from it, giving the otherwise calm room a hint of dungeon atmosphere.
She took her position facing him, waiting with her hands relaxed at her sides. There were flutters of arousal dancing over her skin, but she wasn’t lost in the feeling.
“Raise your arms.” Master James stood in a shadowy area of the room, his face hidden from her.
Beth lifted her arms, helpfully positioning her wrists near the heavy padded cuffs attached to two lengths of chain.
The heels of his dress shoes clicked on the floor, and Beth dropped her gaze—not only out of submission, but because some stubborn part of her didn’t want to look at him, afraid that if she did she’d lose the anger that was a cold ball of white light just behind her breastbone.
The cuff slid easily around her left wrist, buckling into place. The fabric of his shirt brushed against her hip as he leaned across to cuff her right wrist.
Beth licked her lips, trying to hold on to the anger, to use it as a shield against the feelings his nearness caused. Her body didn’t care that he’d shut her down when she’d asked for more. Her body remembered what it felt like to be touched, to be mastered by him.
When she was in place, her wrists at shoulder height, Master James walked away. Spotlights came on, bathing the area where she stood in bright light, and effectively blinding her to anything outside the circle of light.
“You look different.” His voice and footsteps told her he was coming back, but she couldn’t see him.
“Yes, Master James.”
“It suits you.”
“Thank you, Master James.”
The tip of a bamboo cane appeared in the spotlight, inching towards her as if it were a sentient thing. The slim cane was long enough—nearly four feet—that by the time the pointed end came to rest on her breasts, only Master James’s hand was visible.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come today.”
“We aren’t done with our letter, Master.” And I wouldn’t turn down the chance to play with you again, even if you hurt me.
“Remind me, what do we have left?”
“Caning and choking.”
“Have you been caned before?”
“Yes, Master James.”
“Where?” He traced a pattern over the smooth fabric of the bustier with the tip of the cane.
Beth had to pause and think before replying. “My back and shoulders, thighs.”
“And did you enjoy it?” The cane dropped to her panties, catching on the lace.
“No, Master James.”
He stepped closer, his arm up to his shoulder now in the light. The cane slipped between her legs, pressing up on the sex.
“And do you think you’ll enjoy it now?”
Beth closed her eyes. A caning was brutal by anyone’s standards. She wasn’t a pain bottom, so for her the pleasure from a caning would have to come from the submissive aspect of it. With anyone else she would have said no, would have accepted the caning because that’s what a good submissive did.
Yet she knew, she knew, that with Master James even this otherwise terrifying implement of torture would lead to bone-melting pleasure.
“Beth, you didn’t answer my question.” There was a hint of chastisement in his voice. Instead of upsetting her, it pissed her off.
Her gaze snapped up, to the shadows where his face would be. “You know the answer to that.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
Beth jerked her chin to the side. “Why? You know how I react to you. You know I want…” More. I want to wear your collar.
The silence stretched, uncomfortable and tense.
“Take a small step backward, bend at the hips.” The cane guided her, pushing against her p*ssy
. “Back up more. Arms together, bend your elbows.”
When he was done, Beth was bent at the waist, her torso not quite parallel with the floor, her arms together supporting her upper body weight, wrists higher than her head.
Master James laid his bare hand on the back of her thigh, and she felt the skin to skin contact along every nerve ending in her body. Unable to balance the physical demands of this position with the emotional work it took to hold on to her anger, Beth gave in, laying her cheek against her own arm.
“Beth…” His voice was soft, and lips brushed over the bare strip of skin between the top of her panties and the bottom of her bustier. Teeth nipped at the line of her spine.
“Master,” Beth whispered, squeezing her eyes shut.
There was no room for the future or the past, there was only now, only this moment, this man.
He nipped her ass through the lace panties, then inched them down. She was wet despite her efforts to ignore him, and the lace clung to the slick folds of her p*ssy