Chapter Six
Oh God, dare I? She watched as Patrick went up the stairs two at a time and considered her options. A door banged above her and then she heard what she assumed was the shower running. Slowly, Caness drew the sides of her shirt together and walked over to the window to try and peer out.
Try was the operative word. It was pitch black outside, and she could hardly see the nearby trees as they swayed in the vicious wind. Not one light marred the silky darkness. No moon, no street lights, and no flicker of a lamp or a candle in the houses along the crescent. In front of the house the street, beach, and promenades were empty with not even a dog or a cat on them.
It was, to all intents and purposes, a place devoid of habitation.
Except for them.
So now she had to decide was whether she was prepared to bare her all in front of the world and his wife. Or three spiders and a moth.
He wouldn’t have asked if he thought I’d be in trouble. It’s dark, there’s no lights, I don’t look like me. It was the first thing her Sir had asked her to do that pushed her well out of her comfort zone. Was she going to fall at the first hurdle?
No, she wasn’t. But as it could well be ‘bare all of her all’ to anyone looking—a neighbor or a friend—Caness decided to make some small proviso to ensure she wasn’t that recognizable. She made sure her long hair covered a lot of her face. In this light, or lack of light, it wouldn’t show as red.
After all, he didn’t mention my hair and it was loose anyway. Just not over her cheeks and chest. Her decision made, Caness turned on her heels and walked back to the table and the chair next to it. Then she slid the short skirt down her legs and folded it up neatly before she placed it on the chair. Her blouse followed. She squared her shoulders.
Upstairs the water cut off.
Caness counted her steps as she retraced her journey back to the window. Seven. With slow deliberation she slipped her wrists into the rope grabs and stretched her legs wide to find the footholds.
It wasn’t an uncomfortable position, she decided, just a bit exposed. Her cunt and clit would be on view to anyone who looked up, and her boobs almost squashed on the glass and shouted, “look at me, look at me.”
No one can see, there’s no one about. She repeated the phrase over and over in her mind like a mantra.
She was so immersed in her thoughts that the first she knew of Patrick’s presence was when he pressed up against her back and his erect cock teased her asshole. She wriggled as she realized he was clothed—his cock was confined—but as per his diktat stayed silent.
“There’s my precious pet. Such a good girl to do as her Sir asked. And I bet it wasn’t easy, was it? To stand here exposed, and wonder if Mr. London or Senor Canterra can see. If the young Watson boy is looking up and jerking off at the sight.” He put his hands between her legs and ran one long finger through the juice collected at the entrance to her pussy. “Oh so wet, my love. All for me, I hope. It seems the thought of a public show turns you on big time, eh? That’s good.”
Oh God. She wanted to come. With her legs wide, she couldn’t even push her thighs together to stop herself. Caness whimpered between her teeth.
The slap to her ass was instantaneous. “Did I say you could make a noise, pet? Did you put your hand up? No, I don’t think so. Therefore, count for me. Twenty to start, I think.”
Eh, oh fuck.
The restraints tightened and he checked their comfort level for her. “Okay? Vocalize. This is to keep you in place so you don’t hurt yourself.” He chuckled. “That’s for me to do. Color?”
What could she say without ruining everything? “Green.”
“Good girl.” He pinched one globe of her ass, hard. Ouch, sodding ouch. Then his hand came down on her ass with such force she rocked. Shit, that’s sore. And not a nice ouchy sore either. This was pain for pain’s sake. She almost sniggered. At least she knew the difference now.
“Count or safe word, pet.”
“Yes, Sir… O… One.”
“Good girl. You know why I’m doing this, don’t you? Just nod and count.” His hand came down hard against her soft skin. Caness took a deep breath and counted “Two.” He rubbed the spot he’d smacked and started again.
“Color?”
“Green.” She was surprised he asked again.
Every two spanks he demanded to know her color, soothed the abused and heated skin, and praised her. By the time she’d counted twenty, Caness sagged against her handgrips and only Patrick’s arm around her waist helped her to stay upright.
“Come on now, let’s cuddle and make you comfy. That was somewhat full on.” He took her hands out and lifted her into his arms. “You took your punishment perfectly, pet. Good girl.”
To her shame, she burst into tears.
It didn’t seem to faze Patrick. He picked up a fleecy blanket she hadn’t noticed and wrapped it around her as he sat on the settee and cradled her in his arms. He handed her a tissue. “Blow.”
She blew.
“That’s the way. Have some water, pet. And you may now speak. Tell me all about how you feel, and what you want to know. Anything and everything. But first. Drink.” He held a sports bottle to her mouth.
Caness swallowed the liquid gratefully. What on earth had brought that crying jag on? She wriggled to get more comfortable and winced as even the soft blanket chafed her tender butt.
“Careful,’ Patrick said softly. “You are a natural, you know.”
“I cried.”
“You did, but not because it wasn’t what you wanted.” There was no hint of a query in his tone.
“Oh no, definitely not. After the first shock it was…” She hesitated, unsure how to put her feelings into words. “Enervating, I guess. But in a way I needed. Something to take everything out of me. Strip me to the bones and not have anything to think about.” She drank some more water, and cleared her throat. “I needed that. And well, maybe I shouldn’t admit it, because I know you said it was a punishment. To me though, it seemed much more than that. Somehow I got the impression that after the first few spanks there was no punishment involved. Instead, you were intent on giving me pleasure.”
“You realized that, did you? You were coiled tighter than an un-sprung spring. I had to do something to relax you.”
She yawned and giggled. “I never thought I’d be prepared to bare my all for the general public. I’m not sure I’d want to if it was daylight, mind you.”
He chuckled. “You won’t. You’re for my eyes only. The glass is one way.”
“One…” She began to laugh. “Why am I laughing? I should be furious. Do you know how much courage it took me to do that?”
“But you did it.”
“Yes, for you, because I wanted to please…” She bit back a yawn. “Ooops, sorry. I think you managed to relax me. Can I just sit for a while and then…” She yawned again. “And then we can…”
****
Patrick caught the water bottle as it fell from her limp fingers and smiled to himself. His pet gave her all, that was for sure. She held nothing back, for which he was fucking grateful. When he’d told her of her punishment, for one moment he thought she might call red. After all, it was such a tiny noise she’d uttered. One that was a compliment, if truth were told. However, he was of the mind that if he said something and his sub agreed, it had to be upheld to the nth degree. Otherwise who knew where things would go? He knew for her safety she had to do as he said. No arguments.
He slouched back in the chair, listened to the soft snuffles and sighs she made and forced his boner to de-bone just enough not to be snapped if she moved on it again. Each snuffle was accompanied by a wriggle as she presumably made herself comfortable. With a wry grin he waited until she settled completely and made sure she was covered up. There was time enough for anything else.
The candles had several hours of use left in them, and the room was still nice and cozy. However, as he hadn’t lit the gas fire, it might not be a bad idea to get upstairs and let them both rest in comfort. If the electricity didn’t come back on soon and the temperature dropped she’d get chilled. He didn’t want that, and he had lit the fire in the bedroom when he’d gone upstairs to change. Plus, as much as he loved her ass cradling his cock, he’d prefer it without denim and wool between them. Patrick blew out the candles, and with an ease only someone with good upper body strength could manage, stood up with his precious bundle in his arms. Then he made his way upstairs. Once or twice Caness muttered, but she wasn’t really awake.
He toed the door wide open and went through sideways, careful not to jolt his sleeping package. She didn’t move as he pulled the duvet back and put her down on the mattress. Pleased he’d left an oil lamp on low, Patrick tugged the cover over her and stood back. Caness put one hand under the pillow, murmured something unintelligible, and rolled onto her side facing the window. This window wasn’t one-way glass.
Patrick grinned as he dragged his black T-shirt over his head and shucked his jeans before he turned the lamp to low, and crawled into bed next to her. She didn’t stir. It made it so easy for him to pull her into him, spoon fashion, and let his dick do its nuzzle and snuggle act in the cleft of her ass.
It stiffened, she softened, and as he drifted off into sleep Patrick had only one thought.
Shit, I could get to rely on this.