Protect and Correct (11 page)

“What?” She yelped as Collin snagged her wrist and deftly tied it to one of the posters. “Hey, we have things to do.”

“Oh, I intend to do a lot of things to you in this bed. Starting with getting a confession. You are up to something, young lady,” Collin said, tying her other wrist to the opposite side.

“The only thing I have to confess is that I am liking this kinky side of you,” Brooke giggled.

Collin grunted, reaching for her ankles after tugging her jeans from her body. “You are supposed to be concerned, not excited. Betcha didn’t have this in mind when you bought this bed.”

“Wanna put money on that?” Brooke snickered.

Collin issued a crooked smile as he stood to survey his work. “Trust me?” he asked, twirling some hemp rope in his hand.

Brooke lifted her head off the mattress. “Do I have much of a choice?”

“You always have a choice when it comes to play. Just promise me that you will speak up if anything becomes too much for you. I am also concerned about flashbacks…”

“I promise. Don’t worry, okay?”

Collin grinned as he secured her ankles to the lower posters, leaving her spread eagled and helpless to his roaming hands. Her skin shivered with excitement as he trailed the edges of his fingers down the center of her body to the inner portion of both thighs. Pausing only long enough to readjust his position, Collin returned to the feather light caressing with the help of his lips.

Brooke wiggled as his tickling touch grew unbearable. It was like an itch that could not be scratched, leaving her wanting something more substantial.

“There is nothing quite like a tease, is there?” he asked, this time using a peacock feather that he had grabbed from the hammered copper vase in the bathroom. “I’m glad you ignored me and got these for color. There is a lot to be said about the power of a feather.”

“No tickling, you doofus! Get away from my feet!” Brooke protested, unable to yank her restrained body away from the torturous titillation. “What’s that? A gag?”

“Nothing substantial. Just to keep you quiet. It won’t interfere with your breathing, and I promise to take it off if you get panicky.”

“How would you be able to tell?”

“My eyes won’t leave your face for a minute. I’ll watch carefully.”

“Go for it and have fun,” Brooke sniggered.

He placed the silk gag between her teeth and lifted the feather to touch her throat. “This is a different type of pain,” he explained as she squirmed, “one that needs to grow stronger rather than letting up. It produces similar responses though…”

The feather dipped to her slick crevice and stroked her lightly. Brooke snarled and bucked her hips up towards him, her body demanding a firmer touch. The feathers were slowly dragged across the span of her abdomen and between her breasts.

“I think there are too many lovers today who have forgotten the pleasure that comes from this type of sensation,” Collin said as he pulled the peacock feather across her hard, ripe nipples. “This type of fondling takes time to build arousal, and everyone is always in so much of a hurry.”

Brooke growled, her wriggling more pronounced as he tantalized her breasts. Her eyes widened as he produced a small, multi-tailed whip. The entire length was no longer than eighteen inches and included a flat leather handle and six split tails. He placed the tails on her abdomen, stroking them back and forth.

“This is made of deer suede. Feel how soft it is? Nothing to be afraid of. It is designed for pleasure, not punishment,” he reassured as he tickled the tips of her breasts with the tails. Gently, he snapped the little whip to her stomach. Brooke jumped in response, her eyes wide with surprise. It stung but did not hurt.

“You are going to find yourself begging for more, sharper stinging in a short while,” Collin said, snapping her breasts again before stroking them with the edges of the feather. “You are going to want real pain before we are done here. You don’t believe me?”

Brooke shook her head, lifting her body to catch more of the whip against her breasts and torso. Collin chuckled, dragging the tails against her inner thighs and down to her calves. He snapped the whip to the bottom of her feet, watching as she curled her bare toes.

“Do I hear you giggling? Are you ticklish here?” he asked, running his fingertip along her instep. Brooke howled behind her gag, trying to pull her foot from him. Collin cracked his knuckles. “I think I found the perfect torture for you. I will be right back.”

Brooke thrashed against the restraints, her entire body tingling in the slightly chilled air. What was he up to?

“You will either love this or hate it. Doesn’t matter to me,” he announced, unscrewing the lid off a jar. He withdrew a glob of cream, warmed it in his hands, and then reached for her right foot. Brooke screeched. She hated having her feet touched!

Collin began to rub the lotion into her foot, and the scent of cinnamon and mint reached her nose. He knew exactly where to press to relax her, and in no time, Brooke went limp. He proceeded to her other foot, rapidly achieving the same results. He moved the massage up her legs, paying special attention to the sensitive area on the inside of her ankles, behind her knees, the soft inner thighs, and the flesh of her bikini line. He avoided touching her moist areas of intimacy with the lotion, and Brooke struggled with both relief and agitation. Would it burn? Would it arouse her more?

His lotioned hands move across her tummy, around her breasts, and over her chest. The scent of cinnamon and mint stimulated her senses, causing her to inhale deeply as she closed her eyes.

“I’m a firm believer in aromatherapy,” Collin was saying, rubbing the cream into the back of her neck, “especially in sensual aromatherapy. I suspect that this scent makes you want to take everything deep inside of you. It is warm and comforting, and also very, very sexual. Do you want me to touch your pussy with this lotion?”

Brooke nodded quickly, feeling her eyes roll back as she inhaled deeper.

“It is designed to use in the intimate zones. Otherwise I would not even consider touching you like that. Undiluted oils would burn horribly.”

Brooke snapped in a breath as his fingers grazed the tip of her clit. A warm, tingling sensation followed, and Brooke felt her body flow with moisture.

Collin slowly inserted his finger inside of her, touching her pink walls with the lotion-covered digit. Her muscles grabbed at his finger, demanding deeper penetration. He withdrew, watching her clench wildly in a wasted effort to pull him inside.

He positioned himself between her splayed legs and pursed his lips, blowing a tiny stream of air over her clit. His breath ignited the sensation as the lotion began to bring forth a series of both hot and cold tingles. Brooke bit down on the gag and released a frustrated scream.

“This is probably a big mistake,” Collin said, taking off her gag, “but I want you to be able to breathe well as I touch you. No talking, though. A spanking in the diaper positions is not only painful but incredibly humiliating.”

“What’s that?” Brooke blinked.

Collin straddled her body and leaned forward to look into her eyes. “It is when I untie your ankles from the corner posts and bring them together in the air. I will then take the ropes and secure them to the rail over-head and tie tightly enough to lift that little bottom a bit off the mattress. That position gives me full access to your backside, sit spots, thighs, and your lovely little orifices. Now—”

“No diaper position,” Brooke stated boldly. “I’ll be quiet.”

“Not quiet, just no talking. Is that your tummy growling?”

Chapter Eight

Brooke quickly shook her head as Collin put his ear to her stomach. He frowned.

“These are not hunger rumbles,” he announced, sliding off the bed and heading towards his closet. He pulled out a large, canvas bag and set it on the mattress to open it. He withdrew a stethoscope and placed the bell on her belly. His frown deepened as he gently pressed into her stomach.

“Okay, little one,” his voice was firm as he glanced up at her, “when was the last time you went to the bathroom.”

“Oh, my God, that is so not your business!” Brooke exclaimed. “What are you doing?”

“Play stops immediately when a health issue arises,” Collin responded, untying her limbs from the post. “Answer me.”

“You seriously don’t need to play doctor with me. Besides, you were a psychologist…”

“Psychiatrist, dear. That is a medical doctor with a specialty in mental health. The medications you are taking can cause some sever constipation, which is why Denise also gave you the softeners. Have you been taking those?”

Brooke’s face was beet red. Her refusal to respond gave him the answer he needed.

“I am running into town. I want you to take a nice warm bath while I am gone. At least this is some explanation as to why you have been more prickly than usual.”

“I’m fine, Collin. It has always taken a while for my body to adjust to a new environment.”

“Go take that bath. I’ll be home in a few,” he answered, kissing her cheek and leaving the room.

Brooke snarled, sitting up in the bed. Her body still tingled with the teasing Collin had done, but her abdomen was more than slightly uncomfortable and bloated. She slid into the hot bath filled with fragrant Epson salts, massaging her belly as it rolled in protest beneath her hands. Besides the obvious embarrassment of him discovering that she had ignored her own bodily function, she hated that he was right. She decided that she would just swallow the Milk of Magnesia, or whatever else he would bring back to help her, and avoid any further discussion of the topic. Her stomach rumbled again, and Brooke bemoaned the fact that the man had been, of all things, a freaking doctor. That meant she couldn’t just lie and tell him she had used the facilities.

She was still in the tub when he returned, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, exposing her pale, pain-riddled face. Collin entered the bathroom and sat on the counter, placing a large bag on the vanity. He handed her a cup of tea.

“Drink this, baby. How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine. You don’t have to fuss over me. I… oh, this is nasty!”

“Not enough sugar?”

“Collin, an entire sugar cane field stuffed into this cup would not improve the flavor. Gag.”

“It’s senna. It should help a bit. I also picked up some apple cider.”

“Quite the momma, aren’t you?” Brooke said, wrinkling her nose.

Collin crossed his arms. “I might surprise you, kiddo. Let’s get you out of there before you turn into a prune.”

Brooke submitted to him drying and then dressing her, making certain to clutch her cramping stomach only when he was not looking. Her misery grew, making her unusually silent as she followed him around the house, unpacking smaller items. It was late into the afternoon by the time he announced his intent.

“I know you feel like crap, baby. If the tea doesn’t help you, we will take more aggressive measures.”

“I’m fine,” Brooke whispered, leaning in half and guarding her torso.

“Oh good! Let’s go for a jog. It’s getting a bit foggy out, but—”

“Shut up, Collin. I am not going jogging.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he said pleasantly. “We do have a lot to finish around here. All these pots and pans need—”

“I am not doing dishes. Or cleaning. Or laundry. I’m gonna go lay down.”

“Brooke, if you stop being so stubborn, I can make you more comfortable,” Collin stated.

“Just leave me alone,” she answered through gritted teeth. She bypassed the stairs and curled up on the large sofa in front of the roaring fire, rocking herself back and forth as her stomach’s protests increased.

Collin watched her for several minutes, shook his head, and bounded upstairs to retrieve the bag he had left in the bathroom. He sat next to her and opened it.

“No more arguments from you,” he stated, pulling out a small box containing suppositories. “You obviously have no desire to take care of yourself, so I am going to do this for you.”

“Oh no you aren’t!” Brooke exclaimed, her eyes wide as he peeled back the foil wrapper from two of the small inserts.

“I certainly am,” Collin retorted, flipping open the top of the KY tube. He pulled gloves from the bag and snapped one on his right hand. “You can comply with this treatment, or you can get spanked and then comply. I am going to help you, either way.”

“Collin, this is unnecessary.”

“No, unnecessary is the fact that you have wound yourself into this tiny ball on the corner of the couch and rock yourself to ease the pain. Come on now, crawl over my knee, and let daddy make it all better.”

“You are not my daddy and… no…” Brooke whined as he pulled her across his lap.

“No more lip. Sweats down,” he said as he skimmed the material away from her bottom after wrapping his right leg across hers. “This is not going to hurt a bit. I promise.”

“This is so damn humiliating!”

“This is nothing,” Collin said, massaging her bottom hole with the jelly. “Relax, baby-doll. You will just feel a little pressure as I insert it.”

Brooke whimpered as she felt his thick, gloved finger press firmly against her anus, directing the small bullet-shaped suppository high into her rectum. He left his finger in place for a moment, giving her a chance to adjust to the invader. A second suppository followed, and Collin waited patiently as she accepted both the medication and his finger. He slowly withdrew, snapping off the glove and tossing it into a small trash can next to the couch.

“That wasn’t bad, now was it?” he asked, his right hand massaging the globes of her bottom as he kept her still over his solid thighs. “I think it might have even excited you a little.”

“You are one sick bastard. There is no way…”

“You can’t deny this, honey,” Collin said, cupping her wet slit with his warm hand. “I love that you respond to me the way you do. This is a good thing.”

“It isn’t feeling that good. Please let me get up.”

Collin obliged, slinging her gently in his arms and massaging her belly with his right hand. She drew her knees up, groaning.