de Lune, Clair - Initiation [Prometheus in Chains 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) (3 page)

“Why wouldn’t she use her safe word?”

“Well some subs love pain, and the Dom’s job is to make sure she is not harmed even in spite of herself. Safe, sane, and consensual…remember?”

“Yes, but if the sub does not use her safe word, she is still consenting, so why did he stop?”

“Indeed she is, but it is an exchange, remember, and if the Dom judges it is too much he will stop. He is in overall charge of the scene, and the responsibility is his. They will have discussed the scene beforehand and agreed on limits. He can and will stop a scene before it goes too far for his sub’s protection.”

“I see,” she said but she wasn’t sure she did. Who would be mad enough to want someone to inflict so much pain on them that it did permanent damage?

“Who in their right mind…”

“Well you have hit the nail on the head there. If a sub is carried away by the moment, the euphoria, maybe the sub will not be in his or her right mind, but the Dom will be and that is his responsibility.”

That made things a bit clearer, but all that pain was not something she wanted to explore at all. She shuddered. She noticed that
Master Angus was watching for her reaction and he just smiled
as he saw that fleeting thought cross her face. She had always had trouble concealing her thoughts.

She looked at him, a question in her eyes. He had startled her with his smile, and she knew she had not said the thought out loud.

“It is my job as a Dom to focus on you, your needs, and your reactions. Little darling, your thoughts are mirrored on your face.”

That shook her. Not all of them, she hoped. She was conscious of a growing attraction to him and was trying to hide it.

After all, he is doing Prometheus a favour, she thought.
“Keep a hold of yourself. You are needy, but you cannot expect anything of him. You have only just met him for goodness’ sake, and it’s not as if he sought you out. Get a grip!
”

Master Angus fitted the key in the lock, turned it, and opened the door. He went into the room and turned on the lights as she followed him. She looked around curiously. Eighteenth-century French décor, elegance, and comfort seemed out of place linked with BDSM, she thought.

“Look at me, little darling.”

Her eyes flew to Master Angus.

“In this room you speak only when I ask a question, and you keep your eyes lowered unless I tell you to look at me. You have too many clothes on.
Strip. Now.
”

The steel in his voice had her scrambling to obey, he saw in satisfaction. But her fingers slowed, and she stopped taking off her clothes.

* * * *

Hmmm. We have a problem there, Angus thought.
“Now!”
he repeated, and slowly she complied…too slowly.

“Fold your clothes and leave them on the chair. When you are naked, stand in the middle of the room, legs apart. I understand you have arthritis, and so I will not ask you to kneel. Put your hands behind your back, eyes lowered. I am not a patient man, so get a move on!”

When she had done all he asked, none too quickly, and that would have to be attended to later…there we go again…later, implying other meetings. Why had he decided to do this? He needed time and serious thought, but not now. His cock was swelling by the second, and he needed to focus.

She waited, naked, her head bowed. He circled her and looked his fill. She was blushing furiously. She was no longer young and must be worried that every flaw was on display. He had done scenes before with older women and knew they were self-conscious and afraid of being compared to younger and more attractive subs.

“Beautiful!” he said.

She gave a snort of derision, and he smacked her bottom hard. She cried out. The smack must have come as a shock, but she said nothing so she had listened to his instructions. That was a good start.

“Do not
ever
do that again. I think what I see is beautiful, and that is all that matters.”

“No, Master Angus.” she said in a strangled voice. He could hear she was close to tears. The smack had hurt. He wondered if she was thinking of the sub she’d seen taking a flogging. Maybe she was worried he would flog her.

“Did I ask a question?” He saw she was about to say “no” but decided discretion was the better part of valour and shook her head instead.

“Good, I see you are learning, now come over here.” He pointed to a vanity unit, and she went over to him and stood waiting. The cupboard over it contained all he needed. He took her chin in his hand and raised her face. He cleaned her face with a wipe and applied antiseptic.

“It is not a deep cut, but you will have a bruise.”

He took her hand and led her to a chair and made her sit on his lap. Once again, he bent her over his arm and proceeded to kiss her until her senses reeled. He did not have to ask. Her mouth opened for him, and he took possession. He did not allow her to take any control this time. He nibbled her bottom lip, and from there down her neck and along her shoulder. She was hot and wet and ready. Her nipples pebbled under the caress of his strong fingers.

“Next time we will try clamping these,” he said. He saw her eyes flare as she realized he had said “next time.” He felt the difference in her. She sat straighter and a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

What the fuck was he doing? Raising expectations he did not intend to fulfill…or did he? Angus thought.

He realized he
would
see her again because he wanted to see her again and that was something that rocked him. For years he had had no sub. He had never quite found what he needed. Prometheus was a devious bastard and had sent a lot of subs his way to tempt him and thought he had sent him this one. He knew Angus was bored by the young subs. Could this grandmother be
the
one? He did not know if he even wanted to start all the long training of such a new sub. What to do? Maybe just carry on and see where it all led.

He forced his mind away from that thought and concentrated on the moment. Leave the rest for now and enjoy what he had. He took his hand from her breasts and cupped her mound…Hm trimmed but not bare, something else to be corrected.

“Open your legs.”

She complied and opened her legs a few inches, so he slapped her mound. She got the message and opened wider. He slid one long finger into her slit. How wet she was. He had a lube waiting but saw he would not be needing that. So much cream was not common surely in one of her age.

“You are so wet. Are you always so wet?”

“Yes, Master.”

His fingers circled her swollen clit, slick with her juices. He felt around for the bundle of nerves under her hood and pinched it between his thumb and forefinger. She squeaked and jumped, and he did it again. He began to rub her clit with his finger, and she writhed. He slapped her thigh

“Be still.”

* * * *

Jane tried, she really tried to be still, but it was fucking difficult with his fingers exploring her, and she knew if she could just get him to concentrate on her clit she would come. It seemed he had other ideas. Slowly, he circled her clit, never touching just where and how she needed. She was shaking with need by the time he pushed one long, strong finger inside her. She gasped and whined as he withdrew it, to bring it to his mouth and suck it clean. The expression on her face must have given her away because he said, “I told you I wanted to taste you. You are so sweet and spicy. I want more…
Now!
”

He picked her up and put her on the bed.

“Lie back on the pillows and keep those thighs open.”

He began to strip. She was going to find out! His shirt and jerkin were neatly folded and placed on a chair. The buckles of his kilt…but no. He smiled at her and took off his shoes and his white wool socks oh so slowly. He was teasing her, doing a striptease, and she was drooling. He was lean and muscular, though not very hairy on his body, what she could see of it. She wondered if it was natural or waxed. His arms and legs were hairy. All thoughts left her head as his hand went to the buckles of his kilt. He unfastened the buckles, turning away to fold the heavy kilt carefully and lay it over the back of the chair. His backside was poetry in motion, compact and bijou. As he bent to pick up a stray sock that had fallen on the floor, his balls poked through his legs. Had he done that on purpose? She ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips and waited, containing her soul in patience, for him to turn around. Eventually he did, but it seemed to take him forever. His cock was long and thick and hard. How was that monster going to fit inside her? It had been so long. There were subtle signs of aging on his body, but in spite of them he was so hot. It was so unfair, she had more wrinkles and saggy bits than he had.

He crawled on all fours on the bed and settled himself between her legs then he pushed two fingers inside her

“God, but you are wet!” He smiled then he pulled out and circled her clit again. She writhed and moaned.

“Be still, all in good time.”

He pushed his fingers back inside her and proceeded to fuck her with them. As he withdrew each time, he curled them and stroked her G-spot. She moaned in appreciation. He took his fingers out and sucked them, smacking his lips in appreciation to her stunned disbelief. Then he started to lick her inner thighs, up nearly to her clit then over to the other thigh and licked that one almost to her clit. He was going to drive her mad. She fought to keep still but was losing the battle when he dropped to his elbows, opened her with both hands, and oh, God, he was going to…he couldn’t be. But he could and he was.

“I can smell your juices. I want to taste them again.
Be still,
” he growled.

He licked up and around her clit and down the other side. She moaned and writhed and just gave up trying to keep still. If there were to be consequences, she’d deal with them later. He lapped at her juices and penetrated her with his tongue, stabbing in and out of her pussy and sending her to the edge but it was never quite enough. How did he know just when to stop? How long could he keep it up? She giggled at the double entendre.

He stopped and looked at her.

“Something funny?”

When she explained, he laughed loudly and said, “As long as I like, little darling” and returned to the task in hand, which seemed to be keeping her on the edge and at which he seemed to excel. She could see he was enjoying himself from the expression on his face so, just when she thought he would never ever let her come, he took her clit in his mouth and suckled hard, then ever so gently bit down on it. She screamed, her orgasm making her back arch and breaking over her in wave after wave of mind-blowing pleasure. She thought he had
done
, but as she began to come down from the peak he applied his talented tongue to her clit again and gave her a second shattering orgasm. Her limbs shook, she thrashed and moaned, and tears leaked from her eyes. She could not think and could barely breathe. When she came to her senses, he was sitting behind her on the bed, leaning on the pillows. She was wrapped in a soft blanket and he was gently nibbling at her neck.

“Do you know how beautiful you look when you come?” he asked.

Whatever, she thought rudely.

“Beautiful, even if I had not given you permission to come. We shall have to work on that, little darling.”

In spite of his words, he continued to fondle and pet her, whispering words of praise and comfort in her ear. She let her hand drop to his lap and tried to fondle his cock, but he slapped her wrist albeit gently.

“Not today. I want no condom between us when I take you and there are things we have to do first…be patient, little darling.”

“But you have given me such pleasure and you…”

“I can wait and will appreciate it all the more. Now we have to go back to the main room. I want you to wear this whenever you are in the club. It is a training collar and will avoid incidents like tonight. When you wear it, anyone who wants to speak to you will have to ask my permission first. You will be safe from all other Doms while you wear it.”

It was plain black leather with a disc hanging from it with “Master Angus” etched on it. He fastened it around her neck.

“You need only wear it in the club,” he said.

“Thank you, Master Angus,” she said.

Chapter
Three

They dressed and left the private room. Once again she realized just how efficient the soundproofing was. No outside sounds had penetrated their room, but once the door was open the noise returned. It was no longer the pounding bass of the heavy metal of before but Gregorian chant.