As for me, I’ve been back at Greystones for two weeks. I spent the first week in bed, alone most of the time, waited on hand and foot. Tom did most of the nursing duty, but Grace, Eva and even Rosie have all done their bit to coddle and care for me. They’re all lovely. And they’re driving me mad. I’m still confined to the house, just pottering about and getting thoroughly bored. Cabin fever is really setting in now, and as the bruises on my face have just about disappeared provided no one looks too closely, and my ribs only hurt when I laugh, I don’t see why I shouldn’t venture a bit farther afield. And I would, if it wasn’t for the little matter of facing Tom afterwards. Even without recourse to spanking or whipping, his Dom persona is beyond stern about this and I know I won’t be disobeying.
But I’m so bored!
I think back over the events of that day, the bits of it I didn’t see but managed to piece together during the agonizing ride down the moors and afterwards in the hospital as Eva, Tom and Nathan filled in the blanks for me. Eva had stayed down, hidden in the heather until Kenny and I were out of sight and earshot. She told me she almost died when she heard the gunshot, that warning shot he fired over my head when I wasn’t moving fast enough. And she heard the commotion as Kenny hit me, but couldn’t do anything to help me, to stop him, nothing that wouldn’t have just got us both killed. So instead, she did the only thing she could. She crawled back over to Barney to see how he was doing and kept out of sight, waiting until she heard us moving off.
She watched us shambling up the moors until we disappeared from view. Then she leaped up and ran for it. But only as far as the quads, still parked a couple of hundred yards away. She was on hers in a moment and roaring back down the fell, heading for Black Combe because even though Greystones was nearer she knew that Tom, Nathan and Daniel were at the house.
She was about halfway there when she saw the two Land Rovers coming toward her, up the moor, Tom’s leading the way, followed by the police. She headed straight for them. Tom, Daniel and two members of the police armed response team were in Tom’s Land Rover, Nathan was in the police vehicle with three more armed officers. They stopped to pick up Eva, and to hear her version of how events were unfolding as the convoy continued to head uphill.
I’d forgotten that Tom would be automatically notified of this incident, just as he was when Rosie was airlifted to hospital. As local mountain rescue coordinator, he’s permanently on call, and of course the police contacted him immediately. They needed his local knowledge and a guide to help them locate the incident and find any casualties. He took the call on his mobile while he, Nathan and Dan were watching football at Black Combe, and of course knew straight away who was involved, what was happening. According to Daniel, both Tom and Nathan were ashen when they realized that Kenny was shooting at Eva and me, that we might have already been injured, or worse. All three of them were ready to head straight up the moors after us, but it was Grace who made them see sense, convinced them to wait for the police armed team to arrive, and join forces with them.
The police arrived at Black Combe about twenty minutes after Tom took that first call, and within another five minutes they were all on their way. The police had the Ordnance Survey grid reference that I gave to the emergency operator to go on as the point at which to start the search, and of course Tom knew the exact location of my viewpoint in any case. They also had a call out for a police helicopter to scan the area if required, though this would have been a last resort as Kenny would have been sure to see it and the situation could easily have escalated. And they had the conversation between Kenny and me on speaker in the police Land Rover the whole time as the operator was patching it through to them, so they had an idea what was happening, but not exactly where we were, where Kenny had taken me once we’d left Eva. Then Eva told them about Barney’s collar, about how I’d taken it with me so they’d be able to track me. Nathan was straight on his mobile, phoned Grace who’d stayed at Black Combe with the children and got her to fire up his computer and locate the tracking device. From there she was able to give them my exact location, step by step, as Kenny and I made our way up to his hideout.
I’d felt so alone, so isolated, but in fact my rescuers were never very far behind me. The rescue team arrived at my viewpoint less than an hour after I left it with Kenny. They stopped there just long enough to pick up Barney, who was still alive when they reached him. It took Nathan, Tom and Daniel, as well as two of the police team to lift the huge dog and get him onto the flatbed at the back of Tom’s Land Rover, but they managed it and Daniel got to work on him as they continued the journey up the fells.
It wasn’t long after that before they had us in sight. Kenny and I had made slow progress, painfully slow, and the Land Rovers could have caught us up easily. As soon as they had us in view, the police were tracking us through binoculars. They could see that Kenny was still brandishing the gun, and of course they could hear our conversation so they knew just how dangerous and volatile the situation was. Even Tom, desperate though he was to reach me, and I suspect to get his hands on Kenny again, could see the wisdom in keeping their distance. So they left the vehicles out of sight and from there they tracked us on foot from a safe distance, until they could manage to close in without alerting Kenny. As soon as we disappeared into his ‘cave’ though, the rescue team were on us at a run, and within a couple of minutes they had the place surrounded.
Terry, the marksman who actually shot Kenny, crawled right up to the entrance and had him in his sights. He could have shot him, I gather, at any point as he was fussing with his little fire. They knew he’d put the gun down at that point so I was in no immediate danger. They were just deciding their next course of action when he started to lose it, started to attack me and I fought back. They issued their warning and Terry, stationed at the entrance, saw Kenny panic, saw him trying to get the gun from me. Then he saw him come after me with the knife, and that was that.
Bang.
Chapter Fifteen
And now, I’m bored! I’m going mad, I need to get out, go somewhere, do something. Tom has other ideas, at least about the going out. It’s mid-morning, drizzling outside. Nathan, Eva, Rosie and a still heavily bandaged but more or less back to normal Barney, have just gone. Barney needed a good few blood transfusions, but being the size of a bear, the gunshot didn’t hit anything too vital. He lost a lot of blood, but that was all—Dan managed to patch him up well enough working on the back of Tom’s Land Rover until they got him to a vet. And now they’re dropping Barney off to be cosseted by Grace while they’re heading off on a shopping trip to Leeds, and I’m left here climbing the walls. Tom’s been out on the farm since dawn and just wandered back in as the others were leaving. Apparently he’s got a meeting scheduled for later on, but for the next few hours he’s all mine. I guess things could be worse.
“Game of chess?” He winks at me as he rummages in the cupboard for the chess set. Having found what he’s looking for, he leads the way into the sitting room where he opens the board up on the coffee table between the two settees, and starts to set up the pieces. I follow him in, stopping just inside the door to watch him. My beautiful man, all mine. He glances back at me, his smile warm, full of sensual promise. We do occasionally just play normal chess, but not often. I’m wondering what he has in mind.
“I got you a present.”
Ah, interesting.
A small square box is on the coffee table next to the chessboard. Tom shoves it toward me, gesturing that I should come and join him, take the settee opposite. I do and reach for the box. It’s made of shiny red cardboard, quite plain, no clue as to its contents.
Could it be a piece of jewelry…?
Tom continues to set up the chessboard as I turn the box over in my hands. He’s always giving me nice things—kittens, a home, a family. A baby. But not usually stuff you could gift wrap.
“What is it?” I tuck my legs under me on the settee as I shake the box.
Tom smiles, leans back to watch me. “It’s your lesson in obedience. You recall I promised to explore alternative methods in view of your delicate condition.”
I frown at him, puzzled. His expression is serious now, the Dom emerging, and my stomach is doing its usual clenching and churning as I anticipate some sensual feast. But not without some disciplinary action thrown in as my hors d’oeuvres it would appear, some form of enforcement to insure I know my place. Sexual submission requires continuous reinforcement, it seems. Cautiously I obey. I open the box.
Inside is a string of small silver colored metal beads, innocuous enough at first sight. I look up at Tom, puzzled. “What is it? A bracelet?” I pick up the beads, weigh them in my hand—look to him for confirmation.
“Anal beads, very sensual. You’ll like these—eventually. For now though, be a good girl and go pop them in the freezer.” He gestures toward the drinks fridge in the corner of the sitting room, the one he and Nathan like to keep well stocked with beer for their regular football fests.
My bottom clenches, my tiny entrance tightening defensively as his words sink in—as it becomes clear what punishment he has in mind for me today. I gaze at him, and one stern eyebrow lifts as he waits for me to obey him. I nod briefly and uncurl my legs.
Back on the settee, the beads safely ensconced in the ice making compartment of the fridge, I regard Tom warily.
He smiles pleasantly, holds out his two fists, a pawn clasped in each. “You choose.”
I tap his right fist.
He opens it to reveal the white pawn. “Right, white goes first.” He carefully rotates the board so the white pieces are at my end, and sits back. “You’ll be wanting to get your beads back out of the freezer as quickly as you can, I daresay?” He lifts his eyebrow again, this time in polite inquiry.
I nod. “Yes, please, yes, I would.” I know those beads are going to be inside me, and as far as I’m concerned the sooner the better. I’m relaxed enough about the general proposition, about letting him have my arse, he can do as he wants with it. It’s all good, always. But I don’t like it much when he puts cold things inside me and he damn well knows it. And he’s using that intimate knowledge now. Icy penetration when I’m not expecting it is a shock, but to submit to it knowing what’s coming? Now I suspect that’s going to add a whole new dimension of excruciating to the ordeal. He promised me something memorable, and my Dom definitely knows his stuff. He’s watching me carefully now, silent, but clearly waiting for something, his slight frown indicating displeasure.
I know that look, make the correct response. “I mean, yes, please, Sir.” And I drop my eyes.
He nods at me politely, crisp and business like. “Right, the rules. You’ll never manage to beat me, and definitely not feeling as nervous as you apparently do just now. You’re trembling, Ashley. Are you cold already? Even before I slide those beads into you?”
I shake my head quickly. “No, I’m fine, thank you, Sir. Please, go on.”
“The first time you manage to get me in check, I’ll allow you to get undressed. And yes, I mean totally naked. I’ll enjoy the view, I always do.” He breaks off his explanation to rake me with his eyes, the gleam of lust clear.
And I know he intends to take his time over this—those beads are not coming out of the freezer any time soon.
With a smile, he continues, “The next time you get me in check I’ll allow you to fetch the lube from the bathroom, and the next time I find myself in check, I’ll allow you to apply it.”
I stare at him, startled. This was unexpected. “Me? I have to do it?”
“Yes, you do. You’ll manage very well I expect—lots of incentive. I’ll watch, and when you’ve finished I’ll be examining you carefully to make sure you’re nice and—slick. And then, the next time you manage to get me in check, then you get to take the beads out of the freezer. You’ll bring them here, to me, and then you’ll lie across my knees and allow me to slip them inside you. You’ll be quiet, the perfect submissive. You won’t struggle or wriggle or offer any protest. You’ll keep perfectly still and let me put them in, because if you move, or make a sound, you’ll have to put the beads back in the freezer, and try to get me in check again. Then we try again. And we’ll carry on trying until you finally submit, properly submit, or you safe word. Is that clear, Ashley?”
“I— Yes, Sir.”
“Any questions?” His tone softens slightly as he says, “Any objections?”
I don’t raise my eyes as I answer, just murmur my response, “No, Sir, no objections.”
“Good. You start then.”
I take a breath, and move my king’s pawn forward two spaces. Tom nods his approval, and moves his knight first. We exchange moves, nothing spectacular, common enough opening gambits from both of us. Suddenly Tom makes an uncharacteristically unwise move, his castle shooting across the board to leave his king unguarded, offering me an opportunity to place him in check. He’s done it on purpose, must have.
I glance sharply up at him as I slide my queen onto his back row. “Check.”
He nods, smiles and leans back to watch me. “Stand here, in front of me.” He indicates the spot directly between his legs. “Strip to the waist facing me, then turn around and remove the rest of your clothes. You can take your time, obviously. I’m in no hurry, although I realize you might be. Those beads have been in there a good ten minutes already, and you’ve still got a lot to do.”
I stand, walk around the coffee table to stand on the spot he indicated. “You did that on purpose, you let me win.”
“You haven’t won, nowhere near. And you won’t. But it’s true I want you naked and I was fed up of waiting for you to achieve it on your own. The next bit won’t be so easy. So, your clothes please, Ashley. In your own time.”
He’s right, I do have an interest in moving this along. I quickly unbutton my blouse and slide it off my shoulders. He holds out his hand to take it from me, carefully folding it before placing it beside him on the settee. My bra soon follows, to be placed neatly on top of the blouse. I raise my eyes, can see the appreciation in his gaze as he admires my breasts, now super sensitive due to my pregnancy. The bruising around my ribs has faded but the faint smudges are still visible. I see his eyes narrow as he notices and places his hands on my hips to pull me closer. He lightly traces the remaining marks with his fingertips, then with his lips before he lifts his head to take my left nipple in his mouth. He sucks softly, the pressure almost imperceptible, but still I shiver. He releases me, glances up into my face. “Still tender?”