Finding Submission (Service & Submission Book 1) (13 page)

He was hiding a BDSM playroom!

The room was painted in a burgundy with black trim on the molding, deep charcoal carpeting stretching wall to wall, all the furniture in maple or painted black. It was tastefully done — not that she knew how a playroom was
supposed
to look — but this one felt almost… classy. There was even a bed with pretty black and white bedspread on it.

Did he sleep in here? Why would there be a bed?

She smiled to herself — that meant he was a
Dom
. Preston was a full-fledged Dom! Well, her spankings made more sense now, as did his ability to command a situation, his need to control.

All of it made sense now.

The room’s recessed lighting was muted, doing its part to create a sexy atmosphere. Focused down lights showcased each piece of equipment in the room, many of which she didn’t recognize. She walked up to one of the few sets of equipment she did know, a St. Andrew’s cross. She had read about those in her erotica romance books. She fingered the chains and straps for the wrists and ankles, stroking a palm down the dark, cold wood. She put her wrist into one of the cuffs, feeling the softness of the fur-lining on her wrists. She leaned against the wood, imagining Preston using a flogger on her back. She wondered how that would feel, as she pressed her face against the wood. She pulled away, rubbing the varnished wood before walking to the next piece of equipment.

Next to the cross were old fashioned wooden stocks like those used in medieval days. She lifted the top of the stocks and put her head in it. She decided she wouldn’t put her hands in it, in case she got stuck.

God, Preston would kill me!

She decided that getting out of the stocks was probably the best thing at this point. She went over to the beautiful bed in the corner of the room with a black and white paisley bedspread, the black curtains tied to each post by broad satin sashes. The bed posts had several eyebolts screwed into the wood. But why? They were the kind of bolts she might use to hang plants in her apartment, but it wouldn’t exactly make sense to hang plants from bed posts.

Then again, it
was
Preston.

She went to the end of the bed to sit down. She swung her feet expecting to hit the mattress and instead heard the clunk of metal. She jumped down and there were metal bars at the end of the bed built right into the frame for the bed. There was even a little door built into the bars, allowing someone to crawl under the high bed. The handle on the door wasn’t locked so Avery opened it, looking inside at the contents and pretty white lights hanging from the ceiling of the space. In a weird way, it reminded her of a pet crate.

Oh for Christ’s sake! A cage? Preston doesn’t have a pet does he?

There was a large pink pillow inside the pet cage or crate, it was set in the middle of the space, similar to a body pillow. The pillow had the word “Kitty” engraved on it in black calligraphy. Resting atop the pillow was a pretty black velvet collar with a large pink bell that also had “Kitty” written on it.

Mmmmmm, I’ll have to look for this… Kitty.

She opened the door further and peeked inside the crate — it was huge. The space ran the length of the bed itself, such that a person sleeping in the bed would be directly above the animal in the cage. And she was right, that kitty pillow
was
like a body pillow, only larger.

Crawling inside the crate, she snuggled with the pillow. She rubbed her face on it, stopping to sniff it. It smelled like powder, and felt good against her face. She picked up the collar. It was much larger than a cat collar. Either this was a
huge
cat, or this was a human collar. But it said “Kitty” on the pink bell on the front. She put the collar on and shook her head, laughing, listening to the bell. The black velvet felt soft against her neck, and she fingered the pink bell. The tinkling of the bell was light and airy and for some reason it made her… happy.

She shook her head again, listening to the pretty bell that said “Kitty.” She wondered who the cat was, or if the name signified a
woman
named Kitty, It was a possibility. She ran her hand over the softness of the velour pillow one last time before turning to crawl out. At the last moment before opening the cage door, she paused, crawling over and rubbing her face on the pillow again.

Then Avery turned around and crawled out, continuing her investigation of the playroom.

The wall in front of the bed had what appeared to be a china cabinet — it was lit from the inside. However, upon closer inspection, the cabinet was chock full of implements. There were paddles, hairbrushes, canes and floggers. She pulled on the brass handles, opening it, the smells of cherry wood and leather filling her nostrils. She fingered the flogger — suede, soft and comforting. She pulled the flogger from the cabinet, wondering how the suede would feel on her back. She hit her leg with it, testing the feel. The thud wasn’t really painful.

Interesting.

Then she pulled out what looked like a hairbrush, but one without any bristles. It was heavy and the wood looked to be maple. She smacked it against her hand, and then reached around, swatting her bottom with it. She let out a deep breath and decided that needed to go back to where it belonged. That would be brutal. She fingered the canes and paddles. There were small, medium and very large paddles hanging on hooks. She closed the cupboard, moving to the display on the wall, where she found yet more canes and paddles.

Looks like Mr. Preston likes corporal punishment.

She was pretty sure one of the paddles was almost as big as her ass. She pulled it down and put it across her bottom — feeling the edges to see if it was as big as it looked. It completely covered her bottom.

Wow. Maybe you should hide this.

Preston needed to “lose” this one. She looked around the room, and decided that she would shove it under the “spanky cupboard”. Sliding it under the bottom of the cupboard until out of sight, she looked around the room suddenly afraid she’d be caught at any minute. Then she saw it.

A saddle?

There was a saddle, set on what looked like a saddle rack. She remembered that from her horseback riding lessons. Why would there be a saddle in this playroom? She couldn’t resist the urge to jump on — it had been years since she sat in a saddle.

Ooooooh, what’s this?

Next to the saddle rack was an umbrella holder with yet more canes and riding crops in it.

She pulled out a riding crop and slapped it against her leg. It had a nice little sting to it. She climbed onto the saddle, bouncing around on it, getting a feel for the leather and the sturdiness of the saddle rack. Then Avery saw a button on the side of the saddle horn, flipping it, yelping at the sudden whirring vibrating sound.

What the…?

She moved her hand around until she found where the vibration was coming from — it was the saddle horn. She leaned forward, scooching her bottom forward until her mound rested against the saddle horn.

Well, this doesn’t work very well with all these clothes on.

Jumping off the saddle, she quickly divested herself of her pants and panties. Again, she looked around the room, having the distinct feeling that she was being watched. She rubbed her bare bottom with both of her hands again, feeling the dull ache of her spanking last night. She climbed onto the saddle, being careful as she pressed her bottom onto the cold leather. Grabbing the saddle horn, she pulled herself forward pressing her pussy right up against the vibrating saddle horn. Rubbing and sliding her clit on the vibrating horn and alternately pressing it against the horn sent shivers and tingles into her belly. The vibration was so intense and strong that it made her close her eyes, her hips jolting forward as her womb clenched.

“Oh, God.”

Avery caught her lip between her teeth, her body shaking with excitement and arousal. She found a rhythm, rapidly increasing her thrusts against the saddle horn, then she would stop momentarily to let the vibration ramp up her arousal, bringing her closer and closer to completion.

Then a loud crack sounded behind her, and hot pain bloomed across her bottom, jolting her eyes open even as her orgasm overtook her, Avery screaming in both surprise and ecstasy.

When she came back to Earth, breathing hard, she looked up to see Preston, a crop in his hand, his arousal tenting his pants.

* * *

Preston got out of his car and stalked his way to the playroom. He was going to make her sorry for defying his order.

She was such a handful, but he would bring her to heel. He was so conflicted with Avery. He was typically drawn to have a submissive woman who loved to please him, and meet his needs. He wasn’t used to someone who was so independent, defying him at every turn. In addition to that, he was appalled, and yet fascinated, with her sarcasm and sassiness. There was something adorable about those behaviors. He loved discipline. He loved keeping a sub on the edge, a little off balance. And an independent, sassy woman seemed to be more on edge when confronted with discipline. He saw Avery’s eyes dilate with excitement and her breathing increase when confronted with discipline, and boundaries. But the set of her jaw, and tilt of her chin let him know that she wasn’t going to knuckle under easily.

Disciplining a woman like that instinctively spoke to him as a man. There was sweetness to dominating a submissive, a woman who wanted to submit, who craved the control of a strong man. Watching the submission take her over made him want to growl.

When Preston made it to the window of the playroom, the blinds were up, and the lights were on inside. Peeking through the edge of the window so she wouldn’t see him, he watched her investigate the equipment inside. She was reaching up to finger the bolt eyes on the bedposts. Her brows were furrowed in confusion. She ran her hand over the bedspread, obviously admiring the texture.

Avery sat on the end of the bed… and then she noticed the bars.

This’ll be interesting.

She bent over, muttering out loud to herself, staring confused into the pet cage. To his surprise, she opened it and crawled inside. He watched her snuggle with the kitty bed. His heart started to race faster and his cock leapt, watching her rub her face on the kitty bed, then sniffing it. She picked up the collar, looking at it, fingering the black velvet. When she put the kitten collar on, Preston held his breath in anticipation. His pants were tenting with his arousal, watching her delight in the kitty things. She shook her head and giggled out loud when the pink bell jingled. She rubbed her thumb and forefinger on the heart shaped bell that said “Kitty.” She shook her head again and then took the collar off, smiling at the pretty bell. She was absolutely adorable with the pink bell around her neck and her brows furrowed in confusion, chewing on her lip, trying to piece it all together.

God, he couldn’t wait to see her in that collar again, and watch her submission.

She started to crawl out of the cage, looking back at the bed, rubbing her hands over the pink velvet, sniffing the pillow, and rubbing her face on it one last time. Once she was out of there, she went to the saddle on the saddle rack. Preston was curious whether she would find the switch on the saddle horn.

Oh, there it is. She did it, she flipped the switch.

He chuckled, enjoying her look of surprise, and then watched her push her pussy up to the horn to feel the vibration. However, nothing prepared him for her leaping off the saddle, and taking her pants and panties off.

Her bottom had a couple areas that were still pink from the belt last night. While he watched her in that room, he actually contemplated jerking off. The sight was almost too much to maintain his self-control. She climbed onto the saddle, that bottom he loved so much, the curves calling to him. She had broad hips, and a soft sway and jiggle to her cheeks that made him want to bury his cock in the cleft. He watched as she slid up the saddle to the horn, slowly grinding her hips on the vibration. Soon her eyes closed, her white teeth chewing on her lip. Intermittently, she would shiver and her hips would spasm with the clenching of her pussy.

Preston was physically in pain watching her in the throes of passion.

Each time she thrust forward her ass would push up behind her, the dimpling of her bottom adorable. No longer able to contain himself, he entered the playroom quietly, undetected. He reached into the umbrella holder and grabbed a nice leather crop, walking up to Avery who appeared completely lost in her upward climb to an earth-shattering orgasm. He paused a moment, noting the flush, across her neck and chest, and her rapid breathing. Timing it just right, he swung his arm out wide and brought the crop down on her bottom — hard. Her eyes flew open in shock, and then the realization of who had swatted her bottom registered. Preston was pretty sure she would’ve said something, but at that very moment, her orgasm exploded, and she threw her head back, screaming with its release.

My God, absolutely beautiful!

How was he supposed to hold it together when she came like that?

Preston continued to slap the crop on her bottom in rhythm with her thrusts against the saddle horn, while with his other hand he gripped her breasts, squeezing, milking them through her clothing. Her nipples stood up prominently beneath the thin fabric of her tank top, and he pinched the hard nubs in time with each stroke of the crop, making her scream again with her second orgasm. He abandoned her breasts to slide his finger between the saddle horn and her pussy, seeking her clit, squeezing and milking through every bit of her orgasm. He kept cropping her bottom, her flesh nicely pink, until she finally came down from her climax. She moaned, tears coursing down her face as the pain finally registered, her arousal abating.