Carrot and Coriander (10 page)

One morning, about a week after their first encounter, Callum asked Rachel to wait downstairs while he made the preparations for their entertainment. She nodded, and got on with the washing up. He collected some tools from his van and went upstairs. She could hear him moving around above her head, the occasional whine of his electric drill, the rumble of furniture being shifted around. She was curious, but she did as she’d been told and stayed out of the way.

After about half an hour he came back downstairs, stopping to kiss her briefly as he passed through the kitchen on his way to dump his tools back in the van. He came back into the kitchen and pulled a chair away from the table. He turned it around and straddled it. He watched her, his arms folded casually and resting on the back as Rachel continued to load the dishwasher.

“Stop that, please.” Couched as a request, but an instruction, clearly.

Rachel obeyed, using a tea towel to dry her hands before coming to stand before him.

“Undress, please. Down to your underwear.” Again, an instruction. Courteous, polite, and utterly Dominant.

Again, Rachel obeyed. Just a couple of minutes later she was standing in the middle of her kitchen, wearing just her latest balcony-style black lace bra and matching thong. Callum’s deep blue gaze was heated as he indicated with a twirl of one upraised finger that she should turn around.

“I do like your taste in underwear. Christ, you’re lovely, Rachel. Where
have
you been hiding all this?”

Rachel shrugged, unsure whether he expected an answer or not. He didn’t always. Now seemed to be one of those occasions as he continued without waiting for a reply.

“I told you we’d be working up to whips. So today, we’ll see how you like that. Any objections, Rachel?”

Christ, yes. Whips hurt. Really hurt. Surely.

“No, no objections. That’ll be fine.”

Callum grinned and pushed himself off the chair. He came around to stand in front of her, took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifted it so her eyes met his. “Who are you trying to kid? You’re scared, I get that. But it
will
be alright. You
can
do this, I promise you. Do you trust me?”

Now this time he
did
want an answer. “Yes.” She felt calm, grounded, and was gratified to note that her voice seemed steady. Despite everything, she was sure.

“Come with me then.” He held out his hand.

Rachel took it. Wordless, she followed him from the kitchen and up the stairs, along the landing and into her bedroom. As the door clicked shut behind her, Rachel’s gaze was drawn to her bed, now positioned in the center of the room. Three items had been casually tossed on the middle of her bed, stark against the pale lemon duvet cover. A flogger, made of black suede, its many tails tangled artfully together. Next to that lay something that looked like a riding crop, this time made of dark brown leather tightly plaited, a short flick at the end. And finally, a bullwhip, the handle and shaft made of braided leather, and the six-stranded tip promising extra sting. Rachel stared at the collection, her butt clenching instinctively whilst her pussy moistened.
Anticipation can indeed be a deliciously ambiguous experience
.

“Look up, Rachel.” Callum’s voice was low as he murmured in her ear.

Obediently she did, and couldn’t miss the row of sturdy metal hooks firmly fixed into the ceiling directly above her re-positioned bed. Their purpose became obvious.

“To tie me to?” She glanced up at him.

He nodded. “Yes. You can kneel on the bed, or stand. I’ve not decided yet. And I can walk all the way around you, get at you from every angle. Sound good? We’ll start with the flogger today. The crop is probably the most—severe—so we’ll save that for another time. Something to look forward to, though.”

“And the other one? The whip? Is that for today?” Rachel was surprised at how steady her voice seemed to be. And even more astonished to realize she was actually looking forward to the feel of the sharp strands against her skin.

“Maybe. Would you like that, do you think?”

“Yes. Yes, I think I would.”
Christ, where did that come from?

“Well, I hate to disappoint… On the bed then please. And on your knees I think.”

Rachel positioned herself on top of the duvet, kneeling below the metal hooks. She shoved the collection of leather goods to one side to make room, but couldn’t resist picking up the crop to explore it more thoroughly. She tested its flexible shaft between her hands, and swung it through the air. The resulting whistle made her tingle, and she wondered if perhaps Callum might be persuaded to progress to this one today.

“Now, Rachel, don’t be greedy.” Perceptive as ever, he knew exactly what she was thinking as he held out his hand to take the crop from her. Rachel handed it over with a disappointed frown, which Callum privately felt was an excellent sign. She may have come to this late, but her submissive side was most definitely in the ascendancy now. Lucky him.

He placed the crop on the floor, and turned back to Rachel, this time holding a length of black bondage rope. “Your hands, please. But first, take off your bra.”

His command had been softly delivered, and Rachel obeyed immediately. Her bra was soon on the floor alongside the spanking crop and she held out both her hands for him to loop the rope around her right wrist.

“Are you going to whip me across my breasts?”

She sounded rather less impressed at that prospect, Callum thought.

“I could. The flogger’s gentle enough. Would you like to try that, Rachel?”

“I, I…”

“Not today, I think.” He was quick to squash that train of thought, he didn’t want her panicking now. “But I just enjoy naked breasts, especially yours. So, are we ready?”

At her sharp nod he quickly pulled a loop tight around her wrist, and kneeling next to her on the bed he reached up to secure her to one of the hooks. The left wrist next, he chose a hook far enough from the first to ensure her hands were outstretched. Then he carefully checked that her restraints were not too tight, he was in the business of keeping her still, not cutting off her circulation.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Not especially. My arms ache already.”

“Then relax them. Let the ropes hold you, take your weight. That’s what they’re for. Shuffle around a bit, let your body settle.”

Rachel shifted and repositioned herself, and Callum waited patiently until she was still. Then, “I know I said this was just because I like the view, but since we’re here, I can’t resist…”

Seating himself on the bed in front of her upright, exposed body, he reached out to cup first one, then both her breasts. He held the firm curves in his palms, lifting and squeezing gently. Rachel arched her back, sub-consciously offering him more. So he took more, lowering his lips to take her left nipple in his mouth. He sucked greedily, loving the feel of the little bud hardening into a pebble against his tongue. Satisfied, he transferred his attention to the other side, repeating the process until both nipples were swollen and red, the erect peaks begging for further consideration. They got it as he used his fingertips to now roll, squeeze and pull, coaxing her tender, sensitive nipples to an even greater hardness.

Minutes later he dropped his hands to her waist to hook his thumbs into the elastic holding up her thong and slide it down her legs. She helpfully lifted each knee in turn, and he dropped the scrap of lace on the floor.

“Open your legs, Rachel.”

She obeyed without hesitation and he slipped his hand between to part her slick, wet, folds. “Mmm yes, I do like a sub to enjoy herself. Most of the time. And you’re definitely enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

She didn’t answer, so he swiftly slipped two fingers into her creamy, hot channel.

“I’m talking to you. Open your eyes and pay attention.” His tone had sharpened, that familiar edge of steel wrapping itself around his words. He finger-fucked her, two swift, hard thrusts, then stopped, his fingers still deep inside.

Rachel’s eyes flew open. She was startled at his sudden change of mood. It wasn’t the first time, but it unnerved her. “I’m sorry, what…?”

Two more swift thrusts, and she clenched around his hand, loving the sensation, the rough friction, wanting more. But he stopped. Again. Rachel was confused, nervous, and was aware that he knew it. That he intended to subdue her and could do it with just a few words and an expert touch.

“I asked, are you enjoying yourself?” The firm, Dom voice, demanding, authoritative, and more intimidating than any physical threat. Not that he ever did threaten her, it was just…something in the way he spoke, the way he looked at her, that could make her shrivel. Like now.

“Yes. I mean no.” Christ, how did he manage to confuse her like this? Her body was on fire, his to touch, to arouse as he wanted.
Please.
And her head was a mess, scared and vulnerable and needy for approval.

“Do you like what I’m doing to your body?” At last, a simple question.

“Yes. It feels fabulous.” She was no longer sure what was alright to say. But he’d asked a direct question, she couldn’t do other than answer honestly.

“So, why ‘no’ then?”

More difficult to explain, but she would try. “I, because you’re angry with me and I don’t know why. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean. Please…I don’t know what I did wrong.”

Callum was silent, just continued to finger-fuck her, more gently now and careful to reach that inner spot where all her nerve endings seemed to join up. In less than a minute she was climaxing wildly around his fingers, squeezing and clenching and convulsing, suspended helplessly from the ropes as he worked his magic on her body. At last, she was still, and he slowly withdrew his fingers.

“I’d intended to make you wait for that, but I guess I fucked with your head enough there.” His tone was gentle again, once more the considerate lover, and the sweet wash of relief that swept through Rachel was almost tangible. She was learning, fast, that Doms could be exciting and exhilarating and could lift a sub to the very limits of delight. Well, her Dom could. But he was also moody and unpredictable, and she could never quite relax. How utterly wonderful. Her head was still spinning as he eased himself off the bed and walked around to stand behind her.

“Are you ready, Rachel?”

“What?” She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, saw the leather flogger dangling from his right hand. He regarded her silently as he waited for her answer. Rachel took her time, knew instinctively there was no hurry, he wouldn’t rush this. Eventually, “Yes, I’m ready.”

“Okay. Ten strokes this first time, but you can stop me at any point if you want to. Carrot and coriander, remember. Or rockery to slow down. After ten, we talk again. Agreed?”

“Yes, agreed.” And she waited for the first stroke to land.

He didn’t make her wait long. The first stroke landed across her buttocks with a breath-taking sting. Rachel cried out, more in shock than pain. It hurt, but nowhere near as much as she’d anticipated. The next stroke was directed at her right buttock, and she winced as it landed, but managed not to cry out again. The third was perfectly positioned on the other side and Rachel realized that Callum really was very accurate at this. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, where to land the flogger and just how hard. Enough to excite and arouse, but not so much that the pain overwhelmed every other sensation. By the sixth stroke her buttocks were smarting, and by eight she was seriously sore, flinching with each new stroke. The final two were difficult, and Rachel knew she would have soon had to call a halt, even if only temporarily.

But she didn’t use her safe words. She came through it, her first whipping, and felt incredibly good afterwards. It was as though her body had in some strange and indefinable way, been liberated. Her restraints had made her free to feel, to surrender to what her Dom was doing to her, and she imagined it had been a little bit like flying. Her whole body seemed weightless, and she was more than a little dazed.

Something cool touched her burning, abused bum. Callum was massaging soothing balm into her skin. It was wonderful—she felt cared for, cherished, and incredibly precious. She wanted to thank him, but her throat was still asleep, anesthetized by surging endorphins. As she hung there, loving the feel of his careful, caring hands caressing her body, he reached down onto the floor again. Rachel’s legs were still spread wide, her knees planted firmly in the duvet as she hung from the ropes. She murmured something incoherent as he slipped his fingers through her wet folds again, opening her. Then she moaned in delight as he slid her dildo into her hot, ready pussy and flicked the switch to send the delightful vibrations pulsing through her. He held the dildo in place, angling it carefully to make sure it reached her most sensitive spot, while the heel of his hand rubbed her clit.

It didn’t take long in Rachel’s current, highly aroused state, and soon she was climaxing again. And again.

Callum had moved around to sit in front of her, and she was aware he watched as her emotions paraded, quite uninhibited, across her upturned face. She didn’t care. Nothing was hidden, nothing private now. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth pursed, her lips parted slightly and she slipped her tongue out to lick her lower lip. She frowned, and nibbled at her lip between orgasms as she reached for the next wave of pleasure.

She knew that Callum witnessed, shared all this, and was glad.

“Enough?” He murmured the question into her ear. She nodded, sighing as he allowed the dildo to slide from her pussy into his waiting hand.

Reaching up, Callum quickly unfastened her wrists, and Rachel slipped down into his arms. He caught her, supporting her as he efficiently removed the ropes and rubbed her hands to restore normal sensation. He held her against him as he nuzzled her hair, waited for her to return to full awareness. Not until he was sure she was hearing him, ready to listen again, and thinking straight, did he ask her if she wanted to continue.

“I said we’d talk again after ten. So, how was it for you?”