NoEasyWayOut (6 page)

The bed looked beautiful, covered in red rose petals over
the thick white cotton sheets and covers. This was a bed to be held, to be
caressed, to be kissed gently and hear “I love you” whispered softly.

But she knew that wasn’t going to happen. And she knew too
that right now she didn’t want that to happen. She wanted Daniel to order her,
to control her, to make her do things, to make her feel like this.

“Kneel down on the edge of the bed facing me.” He positioned
her near the end of the bed, facing him and looking into the room, her legs
bent under her as she sat and waited. He unclipped her hands and she stretched
her arms out, enjoying the feeling and glad to be free again. Then he pulled
her left hand down a few inches toward her ankle and clipped them together. He
did the same on the other side, fixing her other wrist to her ankle.

She couldn’t stand up, she couldn’t walk. Her hands were
pinned to her sides and her ankles were firmly tethered to her wrists.

She watched him pick up the paddle, nervous now, not wanting
him to hurt her and knowing it wasn’t her bottom he was going for this time.

He waved it a few times, watching her face. “Are you going
to enjoy this?”

She shook her head. “No. Daniel, be careful. Don’t do it too
hard.”

“I won’t.” He smiled. “Although you don’t believe me now I
won’t give you more than you can take.”

She shook her head. He was right. She didn’t believe him.
Then the paddle was arcing through the air and the flat broad tip smacked down
next to her left nipple. She screamed with the shock.

“Hush now. I’ll be careful.” He hit her again, the next blow
aimed precisely above her nipple, leaving a rectangular red mark.

She pulled away, almost falling over. It hurt and she was
scared he would actually hit her nipple.

“Push them forward and stop trying to flinch away.”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Yes.” He pushed the small of her back until her body was
arched toward him, her head back, her breasts thrust forward to meet the
paddle.

She closed her eyes, tensing herself for the pain, wondering
why she was letting him do this.

He hit her again on the other breast, once, twice and it was
too much. She cried out. “Stop, Daniel.”

He sighed, lowering the paddle. “If you insist.” He touched
her breast, weighing it in his hand, looking at the red marks next to her
nipple, stroking them and making her gasp as he touched the bruised flesh. “Next
time I’m not going to stop though. I’m going to whip you hard all over your
beautiful breasts and your big, hard nipples.” As he spoke he caressed her
nipples, squeezing them softly, rolling them with his fingertips.

Her nipples were less swollen now, not as huge as they had
been—but they were still bigger than they should be. Still puffy and tender,
still sensitive and still seeming to be hotwired to her clit, making it tingle
and prickle each time he touched her nipples.

“You’ll let me won’t you? I know you will. And you will
enjoy it. You’ll beg me to carry on. “

“No.” She shook her head. “No.”

He laughed. “There’s no pointing saying it like that. I know
you’re enjoying this.” He slipped his hand between her legs, stroking her flesh
until he found her entrance.

She could feel his hand exploring her. She could feel how
wet and slippery she was.

He slipped his fingers onto her tender clit and caressed it
gently, running his fingertips around it, across it.

She moaned with pleasure and her head fell back.

He laughed. “Look at you begging for it.” He took his hand
away. Then he put his hands on her shoulders and pushed until she fell backward
on the bed, her hands still tied to her ankles and her knees bent up.

She pressed her legs together, hiding what was between them but
he pulled on her knees until she opened her legs wide.

He stood back and looked at her. “Perfect. You look so good.
I’d like to share this. It seems selfish that only I should see it. I might
order room service. I would like to have let the delivery boy have a look at
you like this. Perhaps he could stay awhile and help me to satisfy you. What do
you think, Ruthanne?”

“No, Daniel, don’t. You wouldn’t.” The thought of someone
else seeing her like this was humiliating.

“Oh well. Not tonight then. I’ll just have to be selfish,
won’t I, and keep this delicious sight to myself.” He stood in front of her and
she wanted to close her legs, to cover herself but he shook his head as she
started to press her knees together. “Open. Wide open.”

She let her legs fall apart again, exposing herself to him,
feeling even her tender inner lips peel apart.

“Try this.” He smacked the paddle expertly onto her fleshy
mound of Venus.

She gasped. It didn’t hurt but it did sting a little.

He did it again, hitting against the plump flesh then lower
on the fleshy outer lips and back up again.

“You like that?”

She didn’t say anything, not wanting to admit it.

He raised the paddle again and hit her and she felt the heat
spread again. It didn’t hurt like it did on her tender breasts or even on the
smooth skin of her butt cheeks. Here it felt more like a dull thud that echoed
down into her clit, making it pulse with longing. She watched as he did it
again, her breath coming harder now.

“Be careful. Don’t hurt me.” The thought of the paddle
touching her delicate inner parts was terrifying but where he was doing it felt
good. She groaned softly as the paddle smacked down on her.

She wanted him to do it again. She could feel her clit
pulsing, throbbing, wanting to be touched, wanting to be played with, wanting
to be caressed. Even the smacks from the paddle might be enough to make her
come if only he’d do it again.

“You like it,” he said with satisfaction. “I knew you were
the type of girl to appreciate a good whipping. And you’ll like this even more.”

He went over to his bag and got out a big vibrator with a
heavy round end. He switched it on and ran it over her nipples, making her shudder.
Then he turned it off again and put it between her legs. He leaned it on her,
teasing at the hot flesh, nudging at her throbbing inner lips, pushing them
apart, finding the little hood covering her clit. The feel of its weight was
good and she wanted more.

“Would you like me to switch it on?”

“Yes. Yes please.”

“Good girl. You’re remembering your manners too.” He flicked
a switch and the vibrations ran through her.

She bucked up at the intensity of the pleasure, knowing that
in a minute or less she would come.

He pulled it away. “Did I say you could come yet? Naughty
girl.” He brought the paddle down onto her plump mound again, once, twice,
three times.

She gasped, not sure if it was pain or pleasure—somewhere on
the edge of both. Then he pressed the heavy vibrator against her and switched
it on. She thrust up against it, wanting it harder, longer, more. He switched
it off again, dropped it down onto the bed and brought the paddle down sharply
onto her. Then he flicked it toward her breasts and gave her a stinging smack
near each nipple.

“No. No.” She tried to turn away, her hands still tethered
to her ankles.

“Yes or you’ll come too soon, won’t you? Bad girl. You have
to have the pain to get the pleasure.”

He switched the vibrator on again and she cried out. “Please,
please.” She was desperate for him to leave it on long enough, just another ten
or twenty seconds. But he turned it off again and gave her a rain of hard blows
onto her plump mound and lips.

He paused. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yes.” She nodded, her voice strained and weak, just wanting
him to let her come.

“So you want me to carry on?”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“You want me to spank you?”

“No.”

“But you only get this.” He switched on the vibrator for a
split second. “If you have this.” He brought the paddle down sharply on her
plump flesh.

“So do you want me to spank you?” he asked again.

She didn’t speak, not willing to admit that each smack, each
blow vibrated through her clit. If only he would carry on, do it faster, more
directly above the flesh of her clit, she would come.

“Do you?” He trailed the edge of the paddle over her face.

She nodded.

“You want me to spank you? Then say it.”

“Spank me, please,” she whispered, not really able to
believe she was asking him to do it to her.

“Spank you until you come?”

“Yes.”

“Then ask me and ask me nicely.”

“Please.” Her voice was ragged. “Please spank me until I
come.”

“With pleasure. I thought you’d never ask.”

The blows were coming down hard and fast now, focusing on
the area around her clit, each one nudging it, sending vibrations through it,
bringing her closer and closer. Then he held the vibrator on her again. It was
too much. She pushed herself out to meet him, wanting him to make her come,
wanting to get over the edge.

He stopped again, making her moan with longing and need,
then smacked her again with the paddle.

Her skin was tender and hot and each blow hurt but she
couldn’t stop, not now, not when she was so close. She needed him to carry on.

“Please. Please spank me, make me come.” She pushed herself
out farther, arching her back.

Then he pushed the vibrator hard against her again, turning
it on so the vibrations pulsed through her, pressing it hard against her inner
lips and down on to her throbbing clit. She knew it was happening. The pleasure
was building, her body was tensing—all she could think about was the feeling.

She was pushing against him as he smacked her again and
again with the paddle, the blows falling on her mound as the vibrator pulsed
though her clit. Then she was coming, a wave of pleasure taking hold of her,
making her scream and buckle as the orgasm washed through her.

She was writhing and arching on the bed, the sound ripping
out from within her as the orgasm took hold, making her arch and twist against
him, crying out. “Daniel. Daniel, please don’t stop. I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m
coming.”

Then it finished. She wanted to sink back against the smooth
sheets and close her eyes forever, her body limp and weak. But it wasn’t over
yet.

He came round the side of the bed and pulled her head toward
him to the edge of the bed.

“Open.” He put his swollen cock into her mouth and thrust in
hard. He held the sides of her face tightly and she tried to suck him but she
couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything. She lay there limp and helpless as he
pumped into her mouth, using her. One hand was on the back of her head, holding
her against him. The other tugged hard on her nipple.

He stared down at her. “Look at me.”

She just managed to open her eyes to look up at him as he
thrust in again and again, seven, eight, nine, ten times, more, making her
choke and gag. Then he pulled out, a deep groan escaping from his lips as he
came, the thick white streams hitting her face and her breasts and dripping
down the front of her corset.

He stood breathing heavily, looking down at her for a moment
then leaning over and undoing her restraints. She stretched out and the petals
stuck to the wetness on her, marking all the places where he had come with
their deep redness.

Champagne, diamonds and roses would never seem romantic
again.

She wore her new earrings, bracelet and the beautiful
necklace that completed the set to a lazy Sunday brunch with Katie the next
morning. She went into the coffee shop, thinking she must be the only person
there wearing real diamonds. She wondered how long it would take Katie to spot
them and realize that they weren’t just rhinestones or cubic zirconia.

Katie was already there, sipping a big cappuccino, blowing
at the froth and wiping her top lip.

“The mustache suits you,” said Ruthanne, sitting down. They
always got together for a Valentine’s date debrief and it was usually Katie
doing the talking and Ruthanne wishing she had had such an exciting or romantic
time or even been on a date at all. “Go on. A score out of ten. How was it?”

Katie looked torn. “On the one hand zero out of ten. I spent
most of it on my own at the bar trying not to get so drunk I wouldn’t be able
to stand up. On the other hand the sex afterward was definite ten out of ten.”
She grinned at Ruthanne.

“So hang on. You spent the evening on your own but had great
sex? How did you manage that? Have you been shopping for personal items again?”
She laughed.

“No. I sat at the bar on my own in the restaurant where Gus
works, watching him run off his feet on the busiest night of the year. What was
I doing thinking he could get time off? And I didn’t want to sit home on my own
like a Valentine’s night loser. Oops.” She grabbed Ruthanne’s hand. “You did
have a date, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” said Ruthanne, wondering if Katie would notice
her earrings, her necklace, her bracelet.

“Thank God for that.” Katie didn’t stop to ask about it, not
until she had told Ruthanne all about her own evening. “So I went to his
restaurant—well the place he works—and sat there by myself. We had a few
moments together here and there but—” she shook her head. “Never date a waiter.
It’s worse than dating a cab driver. They’re always working on the party
nights.”

“But ten out of ten,” Ruthanne reminded her. “It must have
got significantly better afterward?“

“Oh it did.” Katie grinned at the memory. She then proceeded
to describe in a huge amount of detail everything they did in the taxi on the
way back to her place, in each room at her place, how he’d looked, what he’d
said, even the face he pulled when he came.

Ruthanne blushed when she realized a man at the next table
was sitting very still with a rather startled look on his face, listening to
every word. If he stayed around he might hear something worse.

Katie finally stopped talking. They ordered more coffee and
far too much food.

Katie dipped her finger in the froth of her drink and licked
it. Ruthanne saw the man at the next table, gazing at her.

“How about you then? Spill the beans. You’ve not told me
anything. Score out of ten?”

Ruthanne frowned, thinking. One? Because she wasn’t sure she’d
ever want to do it again? Or ten because she’d had one of the best orgasms of
her life and she had a sneaky feeling she would be reliving the evening
whenever she wanted to get into the mood by herself? Ten because of the hotel,
the rose petals and the diamonds? One because she still felt bruised and sore?

She shook her head. “I don’t know. It was good and bad.”

“First of all, who was he? I’ve hardly seen you these last
few weeks. I mean I know you’ve been busy at work and I’ve been busy with Gus
but when I have seen you you haven’t said anything. You’re holding out on me,
Ruthanne. There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Katie leaned back in her seat with a fierce look on her
face. “You have one minute to tell me who you’re seeing and why it’s such a big
deal. What is he? A leper or something?”

“Worse. A client.”

Katie slammed her hand on the table, making the drinks
shake. “I knew it. I knew it. It’s that egomaniac sugar daddy Daniel Rolleston,
isn’t it? I knew he picked you because he had the hots for you. It was nothing
to do with those stupid balloons.”

“No he picked me because I’m good at my job and…”

“He picked you because he had the hots for you,” interrupted
Katie. “Daniel Rolleston and Ruthanne. I knew it.”

“Shh. I don’t want everyone to know.”

“Why? Because he’s one of the richest, most eligible
bachelors in the city? Sure, you’d want to keep that quiet.”

“No because he’s a client and I could get sacked. And
because…because…” Ruthanne shook her head. “Because he’s just not your average
kind of guy. The stuff he does, it’s…”

Katie’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

“Are these diamonds? And those?” She pointed at the necklace.
“And those? They are, aren’t they?”

Ruthanne nodded.

“I don’t care what stuff he does. He can do it to me twice
as hard if he gives me diamonds like that afterward.”

“Are you sure?” said Ruthanne. “Look.” She pulled down the
front of her top as far as she decently could. The marks left by the paddle
were clearly visible on her pale skin.

“He did that to you?” Katie’s eyes widened. “Okay, suddenly
the diamonds don’t look big enough.”

The man at the next table seemed caught in suspended
animation, his cup halfway to his lips as he gazed at Ruthanne’s chest then
quickly looked away when he realized she had seen him looking.

“Does he hurt you?” Katie asked, full of concern.

“Yes, no. Look it’s not like he just hurts me. I’m not
battered and beaten. It’s just he likes rough sex. Well not even rough, more
like…” She wasn’t sure how to describe it, what to call the things he liked
doing, the things he made her enjoy too.

“A bit of hanky spanky?” Katie spoke far too loudly. “He
ties you up? Whips you? Bondage?”

The man at the next table had gone really pink now. If he
carried on eavesdropping he might have an aneurysm.

Ruthanne nodded.

“Has he got his own dungeon full of chains and whips and
torture things?” Katie was grinning.

“No. But a bit.” Ruthanne thought of his flight bag and the
things he kept in it. “We were at the Chelsea last night so it wasn’t exactly a
dungeon.”

“Oh I’d love to go there.” Katie was distracted immediately.
“Was it lovely? Did you steal the toiletries?”

“I did actually. Look, I brought you a bubble bath and a
body lotion.” She took them out of her handbag and gave them to Katie.

“Ooh, thanks.” Katie smelled them. “They are lovely.
Toiletries from the Chelsea and diamonds. And I got one wilted red rose and a
waiter. Not fair.”

Ruthanne pulled down her top again, showing the red marks. “Fair.”

“Okay, I suppose so. So he’s into bondage. Daniel the
dungeon master. And you’re doing it? I’d always thought you were so vanilla.”

“Thanks a lot,” said Ruthanne.

“I didn’t mean it as an insult—just that, well, you’re quite
conventional, aren’t you?”

Ruthanne smiled. “I suppose. I was anyway.” She knew Katie
was surprised that it was Ruthanne and not her doing something outrageous and
getting showered with diamonds too.

“So you’re into it?”

Ruthanne shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s all quite new. Some
bits are good, really good but I don’t know. I don’t really trust him.”

“You can’t let someone you don’t trust tie you up and come
at you with a whip,” said Katie loudly.

Two more heads turned in their direction.

“Sssh. Keep it down.”

“But I’m right, aren’t I?” said Katie. “If there’s one time
when you need to know you can trust someone, it’s when you’re all tied up and
they can do whatever they want with you.”

“Yeah. And I’m not sure I do.”

“Have you got safe words and things?”

“What? “

“You know so he knows when you’re saying ‘no, Daniel, no’
you mean ‘yes, Daniel, yes.’” Katie was putting on a silly breathy voice and
heads were turning again. “And when you say ‘no, Daniel, no’ and you actually
mean no.”

The man at the next table coughed and choked on his coffee.

Ruthanne shook her head.

Katie shook hers too. “Not good. Not good at all. So is it
like a relationship, you’re dating, he’s falling for you, you’re going to get
married and have lots of rich little Rollestons?”

Ruthanne smiled, wondering what it would be like to marry
money even if it meant a lifetime of Daniel. “I don’t know. I don’t really know
where I stand with him. One minute he’s all red roses and diamonds and dinners
at Reynard’s and La Maison and the next—”

“You have to marry him. I’d marry anyone if I could have
dinner at La Maison and Reynard’s. Have you really been there?”

“Yes, a few times now.“

“Oh my. Now tell me everything.” She made Ruthanne describe
her visits to the restaurants, the food, the waiters, the famous people she’d
seen there.

“Ruthanne. You’ve hit the jackpot. So what if he’s a bit
crazy in the bedroom?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if he actually likes me or if it’s
just sex.”

“For that lifestyle and those diamonds, who cares? Just
enjoy it!”

They both laughed but then Katie was serious again. “So how
do you feel about him?”

She shook her head. “He’s fun to be with sometimes. I like
being a part of the lifestyle.”

“You like the diamonds.”

“Yes, I like those but I don’t know. Is it enough?” Ruthanne
still wasn’t sure. Daniel had done strange things to her last night. He’d put
those cups on her nipples and he’d hurt her and afterward he’d sat drinking in
silence while she bathed and crawled into the huge bed by herself.

In the morning he had already left when she awoke, leaving just
a little note saying “thank you.”

For all the roses and champagne and the fancy hotel room, it
hadn’t felt romantic at all. On the other hand she had to admit she’d had the
best orgasm of her life.

“So what does he do to you?” asked Katie. “Does he tie you
up and beat you?”

“Yes. Basically. But he’s not brutal—just, I don’t know, it
hurts but not too much. And he makes do stuff and say stuff that makes me
uncomfortable.”

She blushed just thinking about the corset, the way her
nipples had looked after he’d cupped them and especially how she’d begged to be
hit with the paddle until she came. Sitting here in the café with Katie it didn’t
seem possible. And yet even now the memory of it gave her a little tingle
between her legs.

The man at the next table wasn’t even pretending not to
listen now.

“You could stop seeing him if you’re really not sure. If you
really don’t like it.”

Did she like it? She wondered.
Could you like something
but not like that you liked it?
How could she explain that, especially to
Katie, who was always so sure of herself, who was always so clear about what
she wanted?

“I do like some of it,” she admitted.

The man at the next table stood, his newspaper in front of
him. Was he hiding an erection? He gave Ruthanne a long look as he passed, then
bent down and said, “He’s a lucky man.”

Ruthanne frowned at him.

“Just dump him,” said Katie. “Text him now. Just put
‘Hello
you old pervert. I don’t want you to whip my sweet ass ever again. Goodbye.’
He’ll get the message.”

Ruthanne laughed again. “I wish it were that easy. Look, he’ll
never keep me on for PR if I dump him. And that means I’ll lose my office and
Ian says half of us could lose our jobs if Daniel takes his business elsewhere.
I can’t risk that, not for me and not for everyone else either.”

“But you can’t get your ass whipped every night just to keep
your job.”

“And your job,” Ruthanne reminded her.

“Oh. In that case tough luck. You’ll have to get used to it.
Become the bondage queen.” She sighed. “But really, Ruthie, do you want to
break up with him?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I just don’t know. He said we
might go away next weekend.”

“So you’re just in it for the fancy trips away, the
diamonds?”

“The five-star hotels, the meals at Reynard’s,” Ruthanne
added, grinning.

“You’re living the high life. But you’re paying for it.”

“Yes. And I don’t know if it’s really worth it. The price
might be just too high.”