Undone Dom (3 page)

“I told you to leave you undergarments on. If that includes the slip, then you will wear that. It is important that you listen to me and follow my directions. Once we go through that door you must trust me. There is nothing in there I do not know.”

He watched her, letting her decide how to interpret his words. When she plucked the slip from the box he could see her fingers trembling. She was back to being scared, as she’d been when she nearly bolted. Now he needed her aroused and interested, as she’d been in the shop. He’d done a shit job of interesting her in BDSM so far.

As she shook out the slip he interrupted her.

“You said that slip is vintage. If it is valuable either monetarily or sentimentally I’d suggest you put it away.”

Her fingers crushed the fabric at his words. Slowly, she turned and put it back in the box.

He wanted to touch her but he knew he couldn’t, not yet. He’d never been tempted to break his word to a BDSM community member, but as he watched her chest rise and fall, her trembling fingers, he wanted to drag her in there and do things with and to her she’d never imagined, until she gave in to him and bathed him in the sweet sexuality he knew was just under the surface, begging him to never let her go.

With a mental snarl, he turned away from the thought.

He had a plan for the morning, and it was time to follow it.

“I never told you why Slave Cheryl greeted you, and why I didn’t provide either of you with further instructions.”

Alton walked to Cheryl. He touched the top of her head with two fingers.

“Slave Cheryl’s Master sent her to me for correction. She spoke back to him and refused him, several times. Because they are not only Master and slave, but husband and wife, Cheryl had forgotten her place, and when punished she did not accept her behavior correction as a slave should, but resisted and insulted her Master.”

He felt Cheryl tremble through the thin connection of his fingers on her head.

“One of the things she’s relearning here is silence. I needed to know if she would remain obedient and silent, even when you spoke to her.” He looked at Lulu. “Thank you for helping me to correct Slave Cheryl.”

She looked startled. “You’re welcome.”

“Slave Cheryl, how am I addressed?”

“Master Alton.”

He met Lulu’s gaze. “Once you enter the house you will address me correctly.”

She nodded, gaze on the floor. Alton left Cheryl and went to Lulu, sensing that she would need his touch to take this step.

He cupped her cheek, raising her face to his. “Say it. Call me Master.”

“M-Master Alton.”

He shook his head. “No, you are mine.” Her shocked gaze flew to his. He didn’t know what had made him say it, it was too early, she was here just to look and explore, but he couldn’t stop the words. “You are mine, so you will call me Master. Just Master.”

“Yes, Master.”

Something deep within him roared in triumph.

He stroked his thumb over her glossy lower lip. He brought his head to hers, losing himself in the possibility of kissing her. Her eyes closed, she sighed, her breath mingling with his. Alton stopped at the last moment, drawing away.

Her eyes flew open.

“Follow me.”

Alton stepped around Cheryl and into the guesthouse. He heard the clinking chains that signaled Cheryl was crawling after him and then, after a long pause, the inner door closing and the pad of footsteps. Lulu was inside.

Chapter Three

Lulu’s heart was beating so fast she felt lightheaded. She didn’t know whether to look around or keep her eye on Alton—no,
Master
—or on the crawling woman in front of her.

In the end there was no contest, she couldn’t help but examine the room she’d walked into. She was in a large open-plan living room and kitchen. Or at least she assumed that’s what they were supposed to be. There was no recognizable furniture except a few chairs, and none of them matched—one was a ladder-back-style wood chair from a dinning set, the next a simple padded chair with arms, the third a lush-looking wing chair.

The windows were coated with opaque film, letting in light but keeping anyone from seeing in or out. It was a good thing, because besides the chairs there were some distinctly strange pieces of furniture.

She recognized a gymnastics horse, a prayer bench and an ottoman, though the latter had large silver rings bolted into it. There was a huge X-shaped thing in the front corner of the room. Benches were positioned around it, almost as if it were in the center of a stage. The wall behind it was decorated with riding crops, a cat-o’-nine-tails, a curled Indiana Jones whip and a fraternity paddle, among other things. The floor was covered in beautiful marble tiles that extended from the front door right into the kitchen. The clearly unused kitchen was larger than hers. There was a heavy-duty pot rack suspended above the three-foot by four-foot island in the center, but it was draped in chain and there were more circular rings set into the cabinets.

Scattered rugs provided some relief for the crawling Cheryl and Lulu watched her follow a path of runners from the door to the wingback chair. It was against the far wall and had a small end table next to it, the only apparent normal seating in the room.

Unsure what to do and not willing to sit on anything, Lulu stood with her back to the door.

Alton seated himself in the chair. “Lulu, sit there.” He indicated the ottoman.

Lulu gingerly seated herself, crossing her ankles. She jumped when the cold metal of one of the rings touched her calf. She bent to examine it. Looping her finger through it, she gave it a slight tug. It was bolted into the wood and did not move.

When she looked up Alton was watching her. “Everything in this room can be used on a slave.”

Lulu nodded, she believed it.

“Lulu, how did Slave Cheryl cross the room?”

“She crawled. Oh, was I supposed to…?”

“Go back to the door.”

Fingers curling and uncurling, Lulu stood and walked back to the door. He’d said he’d teach her, show her, but he hadn’t told her she had to crawl. Then again, she’d watched Cheryl do it. Should she copy everything the other woman did?

“Crawl to the ottoman.”

Lulu dropped to her hands and knees. The tile floor was cold and hard even through the rugs. It shouldn’t have surprised her, but as she started crawling across the room she was shocked by how uncomfortable it was, how low she felt. She looked up and Alton was watching her. Their gazes held for a moment.

“Now resume your seat on the ottoman.”

Lulu was very grateful she was sitting on the furniture, rather than kneeling on the floor.

“You are in training, so you will not be expected to remain on your knees at all times, or crawl from place to place.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Tell me why you’re glad?”

“The floor was hard and cold. I felt stupid crawling.”

“Did you feel your submission?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Did you ask yourself why you were crawling, something you would not normally do?”

“I… No.” She hadn’t.

“You did it because I ordered you to.”

Lulu remembered the feeling she’d had when she was on her knees and their gazes met. She shivered.

“Slave Cheryl has been here for two days. In that time her behavior has improved greatly. Hasn’t it?”

“Yes, Master Alton.”

“What have you learned?”

“That I must never disrespect or talk back to my Master. When I accepted his collar I accepted his dominance over my body and mind. I must not doubt his use of my body for his pleasure, which is my pleasure.”

“Good, thank you. You are still questioning though. I saw you look up when Lulu spoke back to me.”

Both Lulu and Cheryl sucked in a breath.

“You doubted my control of the situation, the same way you doubted and questioned your Master.”

Cheryl shook her head.

“You may speak.”

“Master Alton, I was only surprised at what she said.”

“Even if that were the case, you did not have permission to look up. Your Master prefers that you keep your gaze lowered. That behavior needs further correction.”

Cheryl whimpered.

“Get me a crop.” At his words, Cheryl crawled toward the corner with the X thing. “Lulu, come here.”

Lulu jumped at his words, her attention having been on Cheryl, then slowly got to her feet. She had a moment to wonder if she was supposed to crawl again, but she really didn’t want to, so she walked over.

“Sit here.” Alton patted the arm of the chair. She carefully took a seat, twisting to look down at him.

“I’m going to punish Cheryl for looking up when she should not have. You’re interested in masochism. What you’re about to see is not that—there will be no pleasure for Cheryl. This is physical punishment to correct behavior. Masochism binds pleasure and pain together, and though they can sometimes look the same they are very different.”

“Is Cheryl…okay with this?” she asked in a whisper. The other woman was headed back, a black riding crop in her teeth.

“What do you mean?”

“What if she goes to the cops and says you beat her or something? I mean, if it just
hurts
.”

If there’s real ouch hurting involved, I’m out the door
, Lulu thought.

“Ah. I understand.”

Lulu’s hand was resting on her thigh and Alton touched the back of it. The touch was light and quick, gone almost before she realized it had happened, but she felt it along every nerve ending in her body. “When I say there is no pleasure I mean there is no immediate pleasure. She will not orgasm, I will not touch her in any way that could bring her sexual pleasure. However, Cheryl is a slave, she enjoys serving. If she were not punished when she did things wrong it would mean her Master no longer cared about her servitude, and that would be the greatest punishment.”

Lulu couldn’t help but think that negative attention was still attention, but she didn’t say that.

Cheryl deposited the crop across Alton’s knees.

“Slave Cheryl, tell Lulu what you are.”

“I’m my Master’s slave. I serve him in all things. When I come home I shed the normal and live to please him.”

“And what does your Master do for you?” Alton picked up the crop and touched the folded tip of leather to Cheryl’s cheek.

“He owns me. He loves me and takes care of me. He pleasures me and corrects me.”

“And who am I?” Alton’s voice was a low growl.

Cheryl shivered. “You’re Master Alton. You train slaves and punish bad slaves, and when a slave refuses to try something their Master sends them to you and you make them love it.”

“I’m the big bad wolf,” Alton said, so low Lulu almost didn’t hear it.

“Stand. Show Lulu your chains.”

Cheryl rolled to her feet in a surprisingly graceful motion, chains clanking.

“Tell Lulu why I put the chains on you.” He lifted one with the tip of the crop.

“The chains remind me of my status and my servitude. When my Master arrives to pick me up, you will,” Cheryl paused, taking a few breaths, “you will tell him that he should keep the chains on and consider adding piercings.”

“You are a better slave with the constant reminder,” Alton told her. “Now step closer.”

She stepped between Alton’s legs. Lulu had avoided looking at the body jewelry too closely but as Alton’s strong fingers traced them she examined the web.

“The leather collar reminds her of her status. The two chains coming off it connect to the nipple clamps.” He flicked clamps on her nipples. “Additional chains from the clamps attach to her belly chain. If her Master adds piercings I’ll suggest a belly ring, which would serve the same purpose.”

From the chain around her belly he traced two more chains down between her legs. Alton had her move the ottoman over and sit on it.

“Spread your legs.”

As she did, her hairless sex was fully exposed. Lulu gasped as she saw the clamps on the lips of the other woman’s sex.

“There are two chains on each pussy clamp.” He leaned forward and tugged on the chain that came down from her belly, which lay slack along the seam of her thigh. Her pussy lip stretched, opening her even farther. Lulu felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. She’d seen other women naked, but never like this.

“A second chain goes around each thigh, so when she spreads her legs her pussy lips open.”

Thinking back over what he’d said, Lulu blurted out a question, “You’re going to tell her husband to pierce her there?”

Alton looked at her, his dark eyes and stern face making her wish she hadn’t said anything while at the same time a wave of arousal swept over her. Part of her, most of her, wanted to be Cheryl at that moment.

“I will not tell her
husband
anything. I will tell her Master than he should consider piecing her labia and, once healed, adding rings so he can attach chains like this on a permanent basis.”

Lulu shivered. This was real. This wasn’t a game to him.

“If Cheryl were your slave?”

“I would pierce her and attach the chains.”

Lulu and Alton stared at each other for a breath before she looked away. Lulu hugged her arms to her belly.

“Slave Cheryl.” Though Alton spoke to the other woman Lulu could feel that his gaze was still on her. “Over the horse for punishment.”

Cheryl rose and crawled to the gymnastics horse. She stood and draped herself over the top. She stretched her legs to the sides, spreading them wide as she balanced on tiptoe. She grasped a crosspiece below the padded bench with her hands.

Alton stood. Crop in hand, he approached Cheryl. “Slave Cheryl, you are being punished for raising your eyes. Your behavior standard is lowered eyes at all times unless you’ve been given permission otherwise.”

“Yes, Master Alton, thank you for the correction.”

“You will accept twenty strikes to the ass.”

“Yes, Master Alton.”

Crack.

The crop slashed through the air and cracked against her ass. His arm had barely moved but a bright spot of pink appeared on Cheryl’s ass.

After the first five, Lulu had to look away. Not because it disgusted or upset her. The opposite. She rubbed her palms against her thighs, her sex so wet she was worried it would be visible on her panties. She wished she’d kept the slip.

“Slave Cheryl, release and follow me to the chair. You will take the last ten over my knee.”

Lulu watched the other woman’s pinked ass, framed by the chains at her waist and around her thighs, as she crawled after Alton. He swung the straight-backed chair into the center of the room and set it down, seating himself. Cheryl stood and positioned herself over his lap with her torso across his spread thighs.

Slap.

Instead of the crop he used his bare hand, spanking her already red ass. Cheryl made a muffled sound.

“You may cry out,” Alton told her.

Lulu took one step forward, then another, gaze following Alton’s hand as he brought it down in firm spanks on the other woman’s ass. The muscles in his chest and shoulder flexed, his other hand easily holding the yelping woman in place.

Lulu’s hands, pressed hard to her thighs, curled into fists, nails scraping her skin.

Vaguely she heard Cheryl say, “Thank you, Master Alton.”

“You’re welcome. Please return to your room.”

Cheryl climbed off Alton’s lap and crawled away.

Lulu took a step back, trying to get control of herself. She’d never been this aroused before in her life. It was a living thing inside her, demanding that she sate it, feed it. It was a feeling so powerful it was frightening.

“Lulu, come here.”

“N-no,” she stuttered out, falling back another step. But she wanted to, she wanted to go to him.

If she did she would change. Everything would change.

Maybe if she walked out the door right now she could pretend she’d never seen this, never felt it. But if he touched her…

“What’s your name?”

The question was so unexpected she looked at him. “Lulu.”

His dark gaze held hers. “Your real name.”

“Luanne.”

“Luanne, come here,” he commanded.

His tone and gaze were too much for her to fight. She took a step.