Chapter 185: Machala
At eleven forty-five, I waited at the front door. An hour later, I stood and stretched my legs and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. The anticipation of his arrival was worse than the aches to my muscles, and I found myself getting angry. This wasn't a good predicament for a submissive on the first night, and I had my limits. A large, bronze, western wall clock hung directly in my line of sight. I returned to my kneeling position and at ten minutes after one, I heard a vehicle. After several deep breaths, I had myself under control and fell into my quazi-submissive headspace, not that it helped much. All I could think about was him fucking me after the pain. A first for me. The thrilling anticipation of pain was usually where my mind was at this close to a scene. Why was he different?
I looked down when the door opened. I could see only faded jeans and untied athletic shoes as Luke stepped just inside the entryway and stood there for several minutes. He finally closed the door and walked away. I shut my eyes desperately concentrating on slowing my heart rate. This was only part of the scene; I knew he'd be back.
When he returned, he lifted my chin with a wooden dowel. Make that a drumstick by the look of the small rounded end. I glanced up and all my work to calm my nerves went out the window. An unbuttoned blue shirt displayed each line of his muscled abs. His chest was hairless and his small pinpoint nipples drew my attention. I licked my lips and raised my eyes higher. His untamed hair curled at his shoulders. God, his face. His striking looks captured me in the restaurant, but over the past few days, I thought he couldn't be as gorgeous as I remembered. I was wrong. If I didn't know about his rock-and-roll career, I'd think he came directly off a Hollywood movie set. I couldn't begin to describe his Prince Charming features. Only his dark eyes gave away the sadist within. Their memory haunted me and now, their intensity sent chills throughout my body.
"Did you find everything you needed?"
For a moment, his gruff words confused me until I realized he meant throughout his house. "Yes, Sir," I managed to say.
The corner of his upper lip tilted upward. "Luke. I want you calling me Luke."
"Yes, Luke." My heart pounded so hard I knew he must be able to hear it.
"Are you uncomfortable?"
I hesitated, but answered truthfully. "Yes, Luke."
The drumstick slid up my jaw to the hair just above my ear. "Good, I want you uncomfortable." He untucked a strand of hair from behind my ear with the end of the stick. "Have you held this position since midnight?"
Shit. "No, Luke."
Now the corner of his upper lip rose farther. It was a purely evil smile and didn't bode well for my ass.
"Have you thought about everything I told you in the car?"
Air felt trapped in my lungs, but I forced myself to exhale. "Yes, Luke."
"Good, then you know I don't require a reason to hurt you, but I promise punishments will not be fun or end with any satisfaction on your part."
Inhale. "Yes, Luke."
"Do you deserve punishment for breaking protocol?"
"If it pleases you, Luke."
A spark of irritation flashed in his gaze. The stick returned to my chin. "I didn't ask what pleases me; I asked if you deserve punishment."
It took everything I had not to turn and run. "Yes, Luke."
"Did you find my dungeon earlier?"
"Yes, Luke."
"You will stand and walk to the dungeon to fetch a cane." He lowered the stick. "Bring it to the dining room and wait on your knees holding the cane out and across your palms."
I rose, turned, and walked to the dungeon. It surprised me he didn't want me crawling. Several of my dominant partners liked seeing subs on their hands and knees. I wasn't about to question Luke's command. Before he arrived, I spent an hour looking around the dungeon, testing the kinky furniture. There were five canes hanging on the wall. They varied in thickness and I knew each offered a different level of pain. My infraction was small, or at least I thought so. I chose the medium diameter cane.
With the long piece of bamboo in my shaking fingers, I made my way to the dining room and noticed that the chair at the end of the table closest to the kitchen was pulled out. I gave a small sigh of relief. Luke wasn't making this a mind game for me to figure out where he sat. I took my position, a steady pulse throbbing between my thighs-my clit needy for attention. My body ready for pain.
Luke walked in carrying a plate and glass of water. I watched from the corner of my eye as he sat down his food and ate. After finishing his meal and taking a long drink of water, his voice made me jump.
"Look at me."
My legs were sore from my previous kneeling and now my arm muscles were screaming to release the cane and relax at my sides. I tried keeping my face expressionless, but have no idea if I succeeded.
The quirk was back in his upper lip. "Why did you choose that cane?"
I inhaled slowly before answering. "I wasn't sure where my infraction fell on your scale, so went with the one in the middle."
He gave me an appraising look. "I rarely use the canes and actually prefer my sticks."
Fuck, I screwed up and it must have shown on my face because Luke threw back his head and laughed. When he finally looked at me, a pleased smile softened the lines of his face. "Place the cane on the floor in front of you." His voice reminded me of Damian's and I shivered. Luke enjoyed my panic at thinking I made a mistake. The choice of canes was a test. He'd wanted to know which one I would choose.
He lifted the drumsticks from earlier and began giving instructions. He combined both sticks in one hand and used them to nudge me into the desired position.
"Spread your legs farther and rest back on your calves. Put your arms behind your back and hold your forearms. I want your tits thrust forward. This is how you'll present yourself for punishment."
I did exactly as he instructed wondering silently when he planned to start.
"Put this between your teeth and don't drop it." One wooden stick pressed against my lips and I opened my mouth. I held the wood tight enough so it wouldn't slip.
I was looking straight ahead with him slightly back and just out of my corner vision. His one hand gently squeezed my shoulder. I didn't expect the strike to my breast and gasped for air with a sudden squeak almost releasing the stick now clenched in my teeth. He laid another strike to my other breast-an abrupt sting, very unpleasant.
"I've found that pain sluts prefer the ass and legs, or even their cunts hurt as punishment. They get off on it. Most subs don't seem to enjoy this as much, so it makes a nice introduction to the level of pain I prefer. It also shows you how much you'll dislike my punishments," he said in a calm unemotional voice.
Holy fuck, he was hurting me and he was right. I didn't mind nipple or breast play, but these sudden strikes didn't turn me on in the least.
What had I gotten myself into?
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
