ROAR (40 page)

Do it! Now!

She squeezed. “…So smile, be safe, and enjoy your day!”

Time to regroup—and not a moment too soon. Suddenly, the silliness overtook the pain and she began giggling before breaking out in hysterical laughter.

Roar pushed the blindfold up, but his face swam before her because of the tears welling in her own. He must think she’d lost it. He unstrapped the ball gag. “Open wide, Sprite.” She followed his instruction, finally bringing her laughter under control. She realized the pain in her clit had gone away, too.

When he pulled the ball out of her mouth, she shifted her jaw back and forth to get it working again. He gently wiped the embarrassing trails of drool from her face and neck, the movements oddly comforting.

Her spirits tumbled next. She didn’t even want to hazard a guess as to how long she’d be disciplined for all her outbursts and failures. She’d performed horribly.

“Sprite, thank you for using your safe gesture when you’d reached your tolerance limit. It helps me to know where your limits are, as we’re just beginning to explore. Knowing I can trust you to safeword when you need to goes a long way toward building trust between us.” He brushed her hair back with his hand, his gaze never leaving hers. “Now, before we move to aftercare or discipline, whichever you decide you’d like first, there’s something I need to reveal to you first about this scene. A surprise.” He smiled.

She liked Roar’s surprises. And the pain
was
gone. Besides, this would postpone moving into the disciplinary phase. “What would you like to show me, Sir?”

He wasted no time. “Touch your clit.” The corners of his lips quivering as he seemed to fight back a laugh of his own.

She targeted her wax-covered clitoris. To her surprise, there wasn’t any wax on either the clit hood or the sensitive bundle of nerve endings. Instead, it was as cold as ice! What the heck?

“Confusing, isn’t it?” he asked.

She glanced at her breasts and saw the splotches of white wax. “But you dripped hot wax on me. I felt it. I smelled it. How did you make it disappear?”

“Those last two drops on your clit and hood weren’t wax—they were drops of water off this ice cube.” He held up the ice and a drop slipped between his fingers and fell onto her abdomen.

“That was cold, but I felt intense heat earlier—both times!”

“Your mind played a trick on you.”

No way. But clearly there
was
a way, because she couldn’t deny the evidence.

A mindfuck? Roar was good!

One thing she knew for certain was that she was now hornier than ever. It wouldn’t take much for her to get off, but he hadn’t said anything about allowing her to orgasm. She’d already incurred a long list of infractions, but this one would make the discipline worth it. Not even bothering to hide what she was doing, she slid her middle finger into the cleft and touched her wet vagina. She hadn’t been this turned on in a long time. Gliding back up, she rubbed her clit, hopefully in the guise of dispersing any lingering discomfort. It wouldn’t take much. So close. Her breath hitched as her vaginal muscles contracted.

“Enough.” His abrupt voice stilled her fingers. “You do not have permission to pleasure yourself.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. But you’ve left me wanting more after that scene. And I know you aren’t ready for sex, but I can please you in any number of ways if you need to come—”

“Topping from the bottom, now?”

Well, technically, yes, but I really just wanted to help you.

Oh, he’d asked a question. “Guilty as charged, Sir.”

“I can see that no ordinary discipline session will be needed tonight.”

The mattress jostled. Now the scene was ending and in a much different way than she’d hoped it would. What kind of consequences would she suffer to learn her lessons?

He began peeling the wax off her breasts and abdomen. The wax on her breasts where he’d applied the oil seemed to be coming off more easily.

“Peel off the rest,” he commanded. His voice sounded strained, probably from his disappointment after spending so much time training her.

She sighed. Having no doubt which area he intended her to focus on, because her torso was well under his control, she began to remove the wax from her mound, pulling at her short hairs a few times. The wax broke off in tiny pieces. This could take all night. Good thing he’d used ice water on her most sensitive areas, but she still couldn’t believe her mind had registered it as searing heat.

“Haven’t you done wax play before, Sprite?”

“Yes, Sir, but never like that. Only on my breasts and abdomen.” After she’d removed all of the wax she could from her mons and labia, her hands stilled. She didn’t want to be accused of playing with herself again without instructions to do so but wasn’t sure what she should be doing. So she waited.

“Is the need to come an urgent one, Sprite?”

“Oh, yes, Sir!” At last! Roar was going to touch her.

“I very much looked forward to watching you pleasure yourself to orgasm, so I regret now having to deal with one naughty submissive’s disciplinary needs instead.”

She tamped down a groan of frustration, which would only add to her troubles. Not only did he not intend to touch her, he wasn’t going to allow her to touch herself, either. But she wouldn’t add to her ever-growing sentence by complaining. With no question hanging in the air, she remained silent.

He reached for the wrist cuffs and pulled her up and into a seated position.

“Stand.”

She rolled onto her side, planted her feet on the floor, and stood. When she swayed, his strong hands steadied her. Instead of quickly releasing her, though, he wrapped his arms around her.

“We can do aftercare now or wait until later,” he whispered in her ear. “Which would you prefer, Sprite?”

While she longed to sit in his lap, she might need it more after her punishment.

“I’d like to wait, Sir.”
Let’s get this over with
.

“Let’s put this back on before we continue.” The blindfold was secured over her eyes, and the familiar sound of rice in a box came to her ears. She had an inkling she’d be kneeling on those damned pellets again.

Without a word, he took her hand and led her out of the bedroom. She had no clue where she was, but she trusted his hands on her shoulders to guide her onto a chair. Perhaps he needed to put her in a safe place before setting up the scene for her to accept her discipline.

“Sit.”

He gave commands as if she were a dog, further making her regret her inability to focus during the scene. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she control her mind…and her mouth?

Roar shook out the rice, but the tinkling noise sounded like he was pouring them into a bowl. When she heard a bowl being set in front of her, she became even more confused.

“Let’s review why we’re in this position.” It sounded no more pleasant for him than her. “What misbehaviors are we correcting, Pamela?” She hated when he used her real name in a scene, because it meant he was not pleased with his little sprite.

“Most recently, I topped from the bottom and tried to take control of your scene.”

“And that is a problem for us, why?”

“Because it undermines your authority, Sir.”

“True, but even more problematic for me is that it keeps you from truly surrendering to my authority. What are some of the other actions requiring correction?”

“I didn’t control my legs and hips consistently. And cursed a blue streak, although thankfully, you couldn’t hear the actual words because of the gag, my Lord.”

He grinned and shook his head. Incorrigible to the bitter end. “Believe me, Sprite, I am fluent in ball-gag-ese.

He would be. “And, of course, the cherry on top—pardon me, but I couldn’t resist—is that I tried to steal an orgasm you hadn’t given me permission for.”

Had she covered everything?

“Sprite, one of the reasons you have difficulty focusing, and therefore reaching the euphoria of subspace, is that you don’t have control of yourself yet. You need to free your mind of all thoughts and concerns except for receiving whatever your Dom wants you to experience in the moment. Don’t let your mind, body, or mouth stray. I assure you, scening will be much more rewarding for us both when you are able to reach your maximum potential as a submissive. You’ll have more fun, too. Perhaps even reach subspace. That’s why I’m continuing to push you on mind control first, and now body control. As for that mouth, well, not even the ball gag seemed to curb your tongue.”

She sighed. She’d not really thought about it that way. She wanted to say something, but he hadn’t asked a direct question. So she conveyed the thought telepathically.
Thank you, Sir. I understand better now
.

“Being aware of what you’re doing wrong without me having to point out every infraction is a good step in the right direction.” He stroked the back of her head, and she couldn’t wait for him to take her in his arms and comfort her later. But this wasn’t the time.

“Now, to help you learn, I’m going to give you a lot of time to think about not repeating these mistakes again. You’re no longer in voice deprivation. If you need me, call out to me. But your mouth and mind will be too busy for idle chitchat, so make sure it’s important and that you won’t lose your focus again.”

Before she had time to contemplate her punishment any further, he took her left hand and placed it inside the bowl. “Because I don’t want to strain your back, I’m allowing you to sit at the table to do this. You may be here a while, so I’m going to set a glass of water to the right of the empty bowl.”

“Thank you, Sir.” She wasn’t sure what he wanted her to do yet but soon found out.

“You are going to count—out loud—each grain of rice.” Her fingers sifted through the rather deep bowl of rice. There must be hundreds, if not thousands, of pieces!

He placed her right hand in another bowl, this one empty. “As each one is counted, you will place it into this bowl on your right. When you have emptied the bowl on your left, give me the number you have arrived at. If you lose concentration at any point, carefully pour the contents of the bowl on the right into the other and start over.”

“Will the blindfold be removed as well so that I can see better and not spill any?”

She heard more grains of rice being poured into what she assumed was the bowl on the left.

“That’s for trying to top me yet again. If I wanted the blindfold removed, I’d have done so. Now, I want you to take a moment to gather your bearings and picture in your mind the layout of the two bowls. You may begin whenever you’re ready.”

Pamela wondered if he wanted her to count out loud then remembered that’s what he said. Why was she so nervous? Because she wanted to perform well for him. Hearing the numbers out loud should help her to maintain focus.

“One.” She transferred the first pellet to the other bowl. “Two.” Dear God, this would take her all night! When she reached number twenty-three, the television came on. He wasn’t even watching her. Had he pre-counted each piece? How could he when he’d randomly added more at the last minute?

Drat!
What number had she been on?

She sighed and dumped the contents of the bowl on the right into the original container and started over. This would definitely take care of any orgasm she might have hoped for tonight. Honestly, she was feeling anything
but
turned on anymore.

She tried to sync her counting to the ticking of the clock above the stove, but was taking several seconds to count each one.

“Seventy-five. Seventy-six. Seventy-seven.”

A tug at her topknot sent her hair spilling over the back of the blindfold and onto her shoulders. He didn’t say anything or touch her hair, but she knew he stood nearby from the heat of his body against her shoulders.

“Seventy-eight.” Nothing would make her have to start over again. She pushed thoughts of Roar from her mind and kept counting for an undetermined time.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

“Three hundred forty-eight. Three hundred forty-nine. Three hundred fifty.” She ran her hands through the remaining pellets. She’d barely made it through a third of them yet. Her mouth dry, she reached for the glass of water and took a sip.

Just keep counting, damn it.

“Three hundred fifty-one. Three hundred fifty-two.” Time marched on until warm hands massaged her shoulders. She hadn’t realized how tight the muscles there were until he began to work out the kinks.

Focus!

Was he deliberately trying to distract her? Well, she wouldn’t let him. “Four hundred six. Four hundred seven. Four hundred…”

He placed a kiss on her left shoulder blade, momentarily throwing off her count. She began counting louder. “Four hundred
eight
. Four hundred nine. Four hundred ten.”

Take that, Sir!
You aren’t going to make me start over again!

The program on the television changed. She realized she no longer felt his body heat behind her. The air conditioning kicked on, and one of the blowers must have been pointed directly at her, because she felt the cold draft on her bare breasts. Her nipples bunched, making her uncomfortably aware of her nude body.

Wait! What number was she on? The last she remembered saying was four hundred ten, but she couldn’t remember if she’d continued to move pellets beyond that. Probably not, and he was distracted with the television, so he wouldn’t know if she missed a few.

“Four hundred eleven. Four hundred—”

“Tsk tsk.”

Dammit!
His admonition stopped her. He must have been using a remote for the TV. Without being told, she dumped the contents of the right-hand bowl back into the left and started to count again.

*     *     *

Kristoffer nearly groaned for her, but what a trouper she was to just start over after coming so far. He went to the fridge to pour his own glass of water before sitting down across the table from her with a magazine. It was going to be a long night, but he wouldn’t leave her in the kitchen by herself.

He wouldn’t do her any favors by being lax on teaching her to control her actions. Only from that level of surrender would she become the submissive he knew she could become with more work. He looked forward to the day when she’d submit to him at that level.