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‘I won’t do anything,’ I said quickly.
‘No, because you’ll have this to think about if you’re tempted,’ he said.
Before I could argue, I was bent over his thighs, held down by his hand in the small of my back.
‘Oh, don’t,’ I whimpered, but that was nowhere near our safe word, so he took no notice and the first hard smack of many landed on my upturned bottom.
Through the pain I wanted him to say the words, the words that always drove me wild, the words I craved and dreamt of in my fantasies.
But he said other things instead, things about obedience and submission, about duty and discipline.
My bottom got hotter and I thought about trying to wriggle off him, but first he had to say the words.
‘You mustn’t resist me, Phoebe. You know this is for your own good.’
Oh, he had said them and I could stop struggling and lift my bum higher, asking for more.
He was happy to give it, and eventually I was scorched all over and my skin was tight and stinging. He stopped then, and rested his palm on the curve of my cheeks.
‘I take it you understand?’ he said.
‘Yes,’ I whispered, needing to be touched. I shimmied my hips encouragingly.
‘Good. I’ll be back when you’re in a more accommodating frame of mind.’
‘What? You’re going?’
‘Just for a little while. Perhaps you’ll miss me.’
I was damn sure I would.
I tried to keep him close, but all he needed to do was gently push me off him and down on to the cushions.
‘Can’t you take off these cuffs now?’ I pleaded.
‘Not yet. Later.’ He patted my sore bottom. ‘I’m going to give you some time to think about this first.’
I couldn’t even touch it. More to the point, I couldn’t even touch anything else, specifically my clit.
I heard the gate shut and the key turn and then he left.
I lay on my side in a torment of frustrated desire. I clamped my thighs tight together and tried to generate enough friction to set things in motion, but it was useless. The heat of my behind worked wonderfully well at swelling my clit and making my juices run, but it couldn’t take anything further than that.
I lay on my stomach, trying to grind into the deep-pile fabrics, spreading my legs wide and rubbing myself on them. This seemed to work quite well, especially when I found a position and rhythm I could be comfortable with. I swivelled my hips over the cushions, wondering if I would get into trouble for this. Would he find out? Would he discover a telltale patch of damp on one of the sumptuous silks that would doom me to punishment?
And what if he did?
I wouldn’t be unhappy about it.
I scissored my thighs together, clamping a big fat pillow between them, humping it with determination. I was thus engaged when the door opened again.
I had to stop, though I was so close, so tormentingly close. I hid my face in the fabrics and muffled a moan.
‘Goodness me.’ His footsteps approached. ‘Whatever do we have here?’
I held myself perfectly still, unable to answer.
‘It looks as if somebody needs something quite badly. Is that right?’
I made an incoherent sound, biting on a tassel.
‘Answer me, Phoebe.’
‘Yes.’
‘Get up on your knees and answer properly. I’m not underneath that cushion, am I?’
Unwillingly, I made the effort to raise myself, not so easy without the use of my hands. My shame-stained face directed at him, I whispered, ‘Yes,’ again.
‘And what is it that you need? Tell me.’
‘I need to come.’
‘Why do you need to come, Phoebe?’
‘Because … I’m a bit … aroused.’
‘A bit aroused?’
‘Quite a lot aroused.’
‘I can tell. How did that happen, then? What aroused you?’
His footsteps travelled the perimeter of the cage. I followed them with my ears, moving my neck in sympathy.
‘I think … I don’t know.’
I lost my nerve at the last minute. I knew he wouldn’t stand for that.
‘You don’t know? How can you not know what turns you on?’
‘I do know. I don’t want to say.’
‘Well, you don’t have the choice. You have to tell me. Especially if you ever want those cuffs off. So?’
‘It was because of what you did to me.’
‘Oh.’ I could hear the weight of pleasure and triumph in his voice, even though I knew this wouldn’t be specific enough. ‘What I did to you. I see. And what was that?’
‘You …’ I stopped to heave a heavy sigh. He knew this was always the most difficult part of a scene for me. The naming of things. The speaking out loud of my innermost secrets.
‘I can see I’ll have to come in there,’ he said.
‘You hurt me.’
‘You like pain? So, if I twist your arm, that’ll turn you on?’
‘No.’ If my hands had been free, I would have wrung them.
‘What then?’
‘It was the way you did it.’
‘With my hands?’
‘Yes.’ His hands. Always so accurate in the distribution of pain and pleasure, or both together.
‘My hands where?’
My fingers interlocked and I held them there, gripping tight.
‘On my bottom.’
‘Aha. Yes. And what’s that called, then, Phoebe? What’s it called when my hand makes sharp contact with your bottom?’
I could say it now. Each exchange of words had laid the pathway and now I had the nerve to speak.
‘A spanking.’
‘Good girl.’ I could almost see his smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his white teeth. ‘And that’s what turned you on, is it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, it’s not much of a punishment then, is it? Perhaps I’ll have to think of something else. But, now we’ve established what it was that made you want to treat the cushions so … inappropriately, we have another issue to address, don’t we?’
‘Do we?’
‘Oh yes. You see, I’m very pleased with you, Phoebe. I’m very pleased that I’ve got you here in this little cage, with me, where you belong. You seem to understand that now. You seem to have come round. Am I right?’
‘I … don’t know.’ I didn’t want to admit defeat yet.
‘Wait. I’m coming in there.’
The keys, the door, the slam, the lock.
Where was he? I tried to locate him by sound, then by smell, but I didn’t know where he was until he untied the blindfold, releasing me into blurred brightness.
The cuffs came off next, but he held on to my wrists, massaging them. They were a little numb and I had pins and needles in my hands.
‘I think you’re going to behave yourself,’ he said, rubbing away. ‘I hope you will justify my trust, because, if you don’t, I’ll be very disappointed. And I don’t take disappointment well.’
‘Why am I here?’ I asked again.
‘Because I want you to be here.’
I twisted my neck round, able to look at him now. He stopped the massage and put his hands on my shoulders, pushing his thumbs into the back of my neck.
‘So,’ he said, soft and low, ‘when you get spanked, you like it. How does it make you feel?’
‘Warm. Powerless. Safe. Tingly.’
‘So it’s partly what I do to you, and partly how you respond to that?’
‘I suppose. I feel like I’m programmed to respond in a certain way.’
‘You don’t get scared?’
‘Not really. Unless I think you’re never going to stop.’
‘Perhaps that’ll happen one day. Perhaps I just won’t stop.’
He knew I liked a thrill of fear with my sex sometimes. I appreciated his attempt to bring it back.
I bathed in the frisson, throwing back my head, nuzzling his neck.
‘The question is,’ he said, ‘what am I going to do with you? You get horny when I spank you and try to hump the décor. We can’t have that, can we?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘No, we can’t. I suppose I’ll have to service you, won’t I? Not that I mind. It was all part of the plan, after all. I’m just surprised you’ve been so quick and easy. Is that what you are, Phoebe? Easy?’
I am for you.
‘No, of course not.’
‘But you want it, don’t you? You want me to show you what you’re here for.’
There was no point denying it. I nodded.
‘Oh, Phoebe, you’re the best prisoner ever,’ he said, and without ceremony he bent me over so my spine was curved and my face fell into the pillows.
He pushed apart my thighs and I felt his breath on my cunt, his face down low, examining me.
‘Still a little bit red,’ he said, stroking my bum. ‘I like that. But you’re very wet, you know. Incredibly wet. Is this what being caged does for you?’
‘I suppose it might be.’
‘No suppose about it.’ He scooped some juices out with a finger. ‘This is one very turned-on little slut, just here.’
