Hard Lessons (7 page)

He withdraws from my body then he turns back to me and pulls me up against him, my back against his chest and his arms draped over my body. I feel comfortable and warm and safe, and I snuggle in. In moments I’m asleep.

* * * *

I wake hours later to the sound of running water. I stretch, feeling totally relaxed. I roll onto my side, momentarily confused at the unfamiliar surroundings before I remember where I am. I’m in Nick Hardisty’s house, in Cartmel, in his big, comfortable bed. Now it’s morning, and the cooling empty space next to me, together with the splashing from the en suite, tells me Nick is already up and he’s in the shower.

I’m just considering the prospect of following him into the shower, but I’m still unsure of the rules on things like that. I know he has unlimited, unrestricted access to me, but can a sub just invade a Dom’s ablutions? I’ll need to ask, or maybe I could just try it and see what happens. Sadly, however the opportunity to indulge in such reckless experimentation has passed as he re-emerges, looking absolutely gorgeous. He’s all sexy and athletic and casually hot, a towel loosely wrapped around his waist.

There are occasions when not speaking is a positive advantage, and this is one such time as I can just gaze, admire, and hopefully manage not to drool. Nick Hardisty unwrapped is indeed a magnificent sight. His torso is gleaming from the shower, droplets of water still trickling down his chest to disappear into the gravity-defying towel at his waist. Unless I’ve completely misunderstood the laws of nature that towel has absolutely no business remaining in place. None at all. His chest is lightly dusted with dark hair, also disappearing into the towel where I know it arrows down to join the pubic hair framing his wonderful cock. I’m wondering how long it might be before I get another view of Nick’s hidden treasures, or better still an opportunity to become even more closely acquainted with them.

His dark hair is still dripping, but tousled to suggest he’s made a cursory attempt to towel it dry. He glances at me as he passes the bed. At the dressing table he rummages for a comb. I take the opportunity to admire his back, his wide shoulders rippling with tight, hard muscle. I wonder how he keeps so toned. Not much time to ponder that, though, as my eyes drift south to check out his narrow waist and hips. His feet are bare, long and straight, his toes sinking into the thick bedroom carpet. Nice feet. He ignores my scrutiny, leaning in to look at his reflection in the mirror. With a few deft strokes he smooths his hair into place before turning to me.

“Awake then, Miss Stone? I guess you
were
tired last night after all your exertions. Did you sleep well?”

I nod, realizing that I’ve just had one of the best night’s sleep I can remember. And now, I feel wonderful. Ready for anything.

“What plans do you have? For me? Today?” Sitting up I wedge the duvet somewhat awkwardly under my armpits as I sign the question, twice, because he didn’t quite catch it first time. But he’s definitely coming on. I can’t quite manage to completely suppress the shiver of delight at his wolfish grin. Whatever he has in mind, it promises to be good. Or painful. Or both. He strolls over to rejoin me on the bed, his long body lounging beside mine as he props himself up on one elbow to look down at me, catching and holding my gaze.

“Today, Miss Stone, we’re going to work on your inhibitions around nudity. And we’ll be dealing with the troublesome matter of your sweet little virgin arse.”

Ah, right.
Inhibitions?

“I’m not inhibited,” I sign the response somewhat indignantly. He gets it first time, and grins.

“No? Why are your breasts covered then? You’re gripping that duvet to your chest like an outraged Sunday School teacher.”

I relax my fingers and draw the duvet down to my waist. He smiles, but makes no move to touch me. Yet.

“Better. I think, to make sure you do get the point, you can stay naked until I tell you different, and any attempt to cover yourself will be punished. Is that clear?”

I nod slowly, thinking of last night’s episode with the strap and not at all sure I like the Dom tone that has suddenly inserted itself into his voice. It intimidates me, unnerves me. I suppose that’s the point.

“I take it your cleaning lady doesn’t come in today?”

His grin is sardonic rather than friendly, and I’m beginning to suspect that any levity might be misplaced just at this moment, especially as my bottom is still rather sore. I let my hands drop to my lap, my equivalent of falling silent.

“No, Miss Stone, she does not. It’s just you and me. And these.” He rolls away from me to pick something up from the floor on his side of the bed. He rolls back and dumps the objects on the rumpled duvet beside me. I look at them for a few seconds, recognizing immediately what they are. Butt plugs. Three of them, vaguely bullet-shaped but somewhat larger. They could almost be mistaken for children’s toys in their bright, primary colors and made from a smooth rubber-like material, but these are intended for much more adult playtimes. The smallest is bright red, about the diameter of my thumb. The yellow one is bigger, Nick’s thumb possibly. The blue one is quite a bit bigger, but without direct comparison I can’t be sure that it’s actually the size of his cock. Not far off, though. I glance back at him, wide-eyed.

“I’m going to fuck your arse. Soon. It might feel strange, at first, but I won’t hurt you.” His tone is firm, uncompromising. He’s quite, quite certain how this is going to go. And I find his confidence oddly reassuring as he explains the plan.

“You need to be able to accept this—it’s a core part of your submissive’s training. A Dom will expect to make use of all your orifices, everything your body has to offer. You’re new to this, but I’m not. We’ll use plenty of lube, and you’ll probably quite like that bit. And we’ll practice with these. You’ll be able to get used to me touching you, handling you, looking at you. Putting things inside you. And taking them out. You’ll learn to hold still, to relax, and to bear down when I tell you to. Once you’ve got all that, the rest is easy. Then comes the really fun part.”

I gulp, and swallow, aware that my mouth is dry. I’m not sure if it’s the explicit picture he’s painting for me, or the thought of what’s about to happen, but I’m battling a contrary mix of emotions. Nervous apprehension tangles with clenching lust. Excitement and curiosity war with my admittedly dwindling sense of modesty. He’s seen my anus, explored it already. I vividly recall the heady sense of connection I experienced as he worked his finger inside me whilst I leaned across my car bonnet on the shores of Wastwater. This will be like that, just…more.

“Do you have any questions just now?”

I shake my head. “Good. We’ll take it slow this first time—you’ll have plenty of opportunities to talk to me if you need to. Now, do you want to use the loo? Take a shower before we start?”

I nod. Both suggestions seem completely appropriate just now. “Fine. Help yourself. Take as much time as you need. I’ll see you in the dungeon when you’re ready. And bring your butt plugs with you.”

With that he rolls from the bed, agile, fluid. He casually drops the towel when he’s only halfway to his chest of drawers, and my eyes are riveted to the fine sight of his muscled buttocks as he bends slightly to open the top drawer. He pulls out a pair of faded blue jeans before turning to face me, treating me to a fabulous view of his rapidly hardening thick penis and magnificent balls. He’s large, huge even, and despite the promise of dummy runs with the butt plugs, I have no illusions that it will be anything other than a tight fit. Very tight.

“You’re staring, Miss Stone. Problem?” His tone is slightly mocking, but it gentles as he catches sight of my worried expression.

He walks slowly back to the bed, and at no stage do I manage to lift my gaze higher than his waist. He stops, standing beside the bed, and reaches for my chin. Using just two fingers he tilts my face upwards, raising my eyes to his.

“Do you trust me, Freya?” His voice is soft, the question a familiar one by now.

I nod, no hesitation.

“Good. That’s all that matters really. It’s fine to be nervous, worried about doing something new, something strange. Something scary and challenging perhaps, physically or emotionally. But you never need to be afraid of me. Or of anything that might happen to you here. I know what I’m doing, and I won’t hurt you by accident. And I’ll never do anything to you without your consent. You do believe that, don’t you? Because that’s what trust is. And a submissive, even just a trainee, needs to be able to trust her Dom.”

I wait for just a moment, just long enough that he knows I’ve considered his words. Then I nod, just once, and sign my reply. “I do know that. And I do trust you.” Then, as an afterthought, “Thank you for being kind to me, Sir.”

He frowns slightly at that final remark then tilts his head at me. “You’re welcome, girl. I’ll see you in the dungeon then. With your toys.” And with that he turns, steps into his jeans, commando-style, and pulls them on. He leaves me alone to prepare myself, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

Chapter Four

It’s over an hour later when I slip into the dungeon, nude apart from my wristbands and chain. I took my time in the shower, and when I came back into the bedroom there was no sign of him. But he’d been back and left a mug of steaming coffee for me and a plate of wholemeal toast. I sat cross-legged on the bed, enjoying my breakfast before drying my hair. At last, though, I was ready and I could sense that it was time.

There’s no sign of Nick in the dungeon when I arrive, but I spot two small glass bottles and a shallow porcelain bowl on a low table at the edge of the cushioned fuck-floor. Clutching my butt plugs, the two smaller ones in my right hand and the largest in my left, I move over to the table to have a look at whatever Nick Hardisty has left there for me. As I walk across the cool hardwood floor my bare feet pad silently, and I shiver even though the house is pleasantly warm. It’s the middle of summer and not cold outside, but I suspect Nick has turned on the central heating, probably for my benefit as I’ll be naked until further notice. He may be stern and demanding, but he looks out for my comfort.

I place the butt plugs carefully on the table and pick up one of the bottles. It’s quite small and round, bulbous in shape. There’s no label. I shake it gently, and a semi-viscous liquid sloshes about inside. It’s oil, which I presume is Nick Hardisty’s preferred form of lubricant for coaxing his way into inexperienced, tight little arses. Like mine. I unscrew the top and lift it to my nose. I sniff it cautiously. The scent is slightly spicy, I think it’s cinnamon. Quite pleasant. I replace the cap and try the other one. This second bottle has a sweeter aroma, and I’m not sure I can place it. I try again.

“Vanilla. Possibly a strange choice, considering, but I like it.”

I whirl around, startled. I never heard him come in. His smile is warm, sexy, as he takes his time running his gaze up and down my body. He’s still wearing just his jeans, zipped but unbuttoned, and his sculpted torso is a fine sight too. He looks at me, taking in every detail, only fair given the way I ogled him earlier—making a circling motion with his finger to indicate that I should twirl around. I do, showing him my back, and he comes soundlessly up behind me. The bottle of vanilla oil is still in my hands as he trails his fingers down my spine, stopping only when he reaches the start of the valley between my buttocks.

His breath feathers across my neck as he lifts my hair to drop a kiss on that space behind my ear. He leans in close. “Christ, you’re lovely. So small, fragile, you look as though you’d be so easy to break. You won’t break, though, because I intend to be very, very careful with you, my sweet little sub. Are you ready to try this, then?”

I turn my head to catch his gaze and nod. He smiles briefly, leaning around to kiss me again, this time on the mouth.

“Which scent do you prefer?”

I think for a moment then pass him the vanilla bottle.

“Good choice. Now, there are a few ways we can do this, and we’ll be trying most of them over the next few days. I do like to provide a broad-based educational experience for my students.” His grin is light now, teasing, and despite my nerves I smile back. “But let’s start by playing nice. Lie on the floor please. Face down.” He gestures me toward the cushioned fuck-floor.

I step onto it, sinking to my knees in the deeply padded surface.

“Would you like a pillow?”

I glance up at him and nod, gesturing “Thank you, Sir.”

Nick places the vanilla oil next to my butt plugs on the low table then steps round and past me to pick up three or four pillows from a pile in the corner. He passes one to me, keeping an armful for himself. “Make yourself comfortable then lift up your bum so I can slip these underneath.”

Ah, right. Makes sense.
I do as he’s asked me, taking a few seconds to arrange the pillow under my cheek as I lie facing Nick who is kneeling alongside me. He smiles at me and gestures with his hand that I should lift my hips up for him to arrange a pile of pillows under my abdomen, raising my bottom for ease of access. He’s quick and efficient, and I’m soon positioned just to his liking. He taps my bottom playfully before turning to the low table. He pours a small amount of the vanilla oil into the bowl then drops the red butt plug into it. He rolls the plug around, obviously making sure it’s well coated in the slick oil, ready for me. Satisfied, he places the bowl, the plug still lying in it, back on the table. He pulls the table closer, right to the edge of the cushioned area of floor, just behind me. Shifting to a position just next to my right hip, where I can easily see him, he reaches back to coat the tip of his right middle finger in oil. He casts a last, reassuring glance at me, winks, then switches his attention to my bottom.

He gently parts my buttocks with the fingers of his left hand. Then he waits a few seconds, obviously taking his time over looking at my intimately exposed tight little opening, before he lightly smears a trail of slick oil around the entrance. He makes no attempt to penetrate me at this stage. Instead, he leans back to reload his middle finger with more oil.