Lexie stiffened at the mention of a gag.
Punishment was left up to the submissive’s Dom, always. If the Dom chose to, he could take recommendations from the offended party, but it was not required. Although he didn’t remind him of this fact, Jonas’ tone sharpened as he addressed the Dom’s unsolicited advice. “Have no doubt that I’ll see to my sub, Sam, as
I
see fit. If you’ll excuse us?”
Jonas guided her forward, his hand clamped firmly at the nape of her neck. He easily took charge of her, getting to their room in no time. When they were inside room nine with the door closed behind them, Jonas directed her to the center of the practically empty room.
***
“Kneel.”
The one word command and the chill in his tone had her responding without question and her knees connected with the cold uncarpeted floor immediately. As she knelt uncomfortably on the hard tile floor, Lexie looked nervously about the room. It was stark and cold. The only piece of furniture was a wooden ladder attached to a wall. It was obviously used like a St. Andrew’s cross because there were eyebolts with restraints hanging from it at the top and bottom. Next to the ladder was a rack loaded with whips, floggers and crops. The only other item in the room was a large chest that sat in a corner, out of the way.
Her eyes followed Jonas as he went to the window and flipped a switch. A red light illuminated outside, casting a sinister red glow over the stark room. He then closed the blinds. Turning, he folded his arms over his chest, legs spread wide in an intimidatingly dominant stance. His voice was stern when he addressed her wrongdoing.
“What was your offense, sub?”
“I spoke out of turn and was judgmental about Master Sean’s activities. As soon as it came out of my mouth, I knew it was rash and disrespectful, and I wanted to take it back. I’m very sorry, Sir.”
“Behavior like that is what gets memberships cancelled, Lexie. You were cut some slack because you are new. It also helps when your Dom is an owner. If this happens again, I would expect one of those Doms to demand a public chastisement. I promise, if that happens, you won’t like it.”
“It won’t happen again, Sir. I am truly sorry.”
“I see that you are remorseful, Lexie. No matter the end, I’m concerned about your unguarded tongue and want to ensure this doesn’t happen again. I’ll give you a little reminder in a moment.”
Lexie’s eyes flew to the implement rack, taking in the wide variety of whips. Would he really use something like that on her? The space would certainly allow for the throwing of one of those awful whips.
Following her gaze, Jonas could see she was troubled by the impact items on the shelves. “No, Lexie. T was right when he said a hand spanking or flogging are all you’ll get from me. I’d add paddling to that short list—you already know that. I’m not into extreme impact play, and I know that pain is not your kink, that doesn’t mean I won’t blister your ass raw for bad behavior. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Sir.” Tears stung her eyes. Jonas had never been this stern with her and she didn’t like it. She wanted her dulcedo back, the sweet, gentle, fun, sexy man who had a wicked sense of humor. “I’m sorry for disappointing you. Please, forgive me. I’ll apologize to Master Sean if it will help.
“No need for him to find out. I can tell your regret is sincere.” He heaved a long sigh and then appeared to put the topic behind them. “Let me show you why we came up here in the first place.”
Jonas walked to the chest and pulled out a few coils of rope. As he walked toward her, he directed her attention toward the ceiling with a silent lift of his chin.
Lexie’s eyes rose and she took in the cables, ropes and pulleys of the rigging built into the ceiling. She sighed with relief. He had brought her here for this, not for a whipping. Ill-advisedly, she giggled.
“I’m getting the impression that you think you’re getting off lightly.”
“Oh no, I was just relieved that you aren’t going to use that bullwhip on that rack.”
“This is the suspension room, dorei, designed to my specifications. You will find yourself here frequently for play and demonstrations. Tonight, unfortunately, we are here for punishment. This is like my dojo so I expect you to act accordingly, showing your Sensei due respect.”
Jonas’ voice was calm and even, but it lacked its usual teasing warmth. She felt awful for disappointing him on their very first outing. “I’m sorry, Sensei. I don’t seem to be doing anything right tonight.”
There was a softening in his reply. “You are learning. It is expected for newbies to make mistakes. Another reason Master Sam gave you a break. You may think I’m being harsh, but you need this lesson in tolerance and respect, which is due all members of The Club. Failure to follow that rule alone can lead to unpleasant consequences and I don’t intend for that to happen.” Jonas stood in front of her now, his hands busy with several lengths of rope. “Turn around. I’m going to bind your hands.”
Obediently, she turned. She didn’t want to risk disappointing him further by breaking more of the rules.
“Fold your arms behind you like you did in class, palms facing each other.” He was soon wrapping, coiling, and cinching her arms behind her. When they were secure, she felt a tug on her hair as once again her head was pulled firmly backwards until she was looking up into his handsome face. She felt him looping more rope around her hair corset, and when he moved away, she realized he had attached her hair to her arm bindings, forcing her to keep her head back in the position he wanted.
“Good girl, now spread your legs.” He waited for her to comply before he bent and restrained her ankles. A moment later, he was standing behind her again. In this position, with her back arched and her soft throat exposed, her full breasts pressing forward as they thrust between the taut ropes of her
karada
, she felt entirely submissive, the dorei he so often called her. She shifted her weight attempting to move her feet, but they were tightly restrained.
“I think it’s time to lose the silk. I want to see you in only my ropes.” With a few tugs from his strong hands, the cloth slipped from beneath the artfully tied web of ropes around her body. Heedless of the delicate white fabric, tearing sounds filled the room as the sheath ripped apart in his strong hands.
Her body was alive from the sensory input—the sounds and tactile sensations. Even the limiting of her field of vision heightened her response. Her pulse raced in reaction, and she felt it pound in her vulnerable throat. All she could see was the rigging in the ceiling. Only sound clued her into his movements around the room. At a loss, without knowing what he was doing and not being able to read the expression on his face, her anxiety rose.
Lexie flinched when his
i
hand abruptly crossed her line of sight as he grasped an overhead rope. He pulled it down until she could clearly see some type of hook fastener on the end. Lowering it, he wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her, before issuing his next order. “Bend forward.”
Jonas connected the rope to her waist. A moment later, she tensed when he lowered another, the sound of the rope rasping through the suspension system above hard to miss. He connected the second near her right shoulder and a third at her other side. Finally, he attached a rope between her chest bindings and her boots at three points. He stepped back, no longer touching or supporting her. Excitement and trepidation warred inside her as her heart thudded loudly in her chest. She was well and truly restrained and subject to his will.
Silence permeated the room as he waited. She knew he was letting her experience the full effect of complete movement restriction, which she accepted without protest. Completely vulnerable to him with all her soft spots exposed, she felt intensely moved by the total exchange of power. It was a heady moment of realization that he could do anything to her and she was helpless to stop him, except… There was a word. A single agreed upon word that would put an end to it all. A wave of arousal hit as she realized she had that power, but she didn’t want it. Not now, maybe never. She wanted to be controlled absolutely by this man, to submit to his will and experience the thrill that came with her surrender.
When Jonas spoke, breaking the prolonged silence, his voice was husky with desire. “You are stunning.” His next command was rough, his voice raw with emotion. “Open your eyes for me.”
Her eyes blinked open and she gazed at their reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirrored wall directly in front of her. With her hair cinched, she couldn’t look elsewhere. Her lips parted as her breath quickened in silent awe of his work. With the back of his forefinger, he caressed her cheek and jaw gently, as if treasuring every curve. At her shoulder, his hand turned to glide, palm down, over her bound torso and rounded hips.
“See the beauty in your submission, dorei.”
With an impassioned gaze, Lexie watched in the mirror as he touched her, testing the ropes methodically, running a finger under pressure points, checking her circulation.
“Wiggle your fingers.” When she did, he nodded and stepped back. “Anything feel pinched? Any numbness or tingling?”
“No, Sensei.”
“You will safeword yellow if you feel any of that. Understood?”
“Yes, Sensei.”
Short choppy sentences were all that she could manage such was her state of euphoria. Her heart lurched as he went to the rack. When he returned, he stood behind her, running the flails of a flogger through his fingers. Lexie licked her dry lips, sucking in as much breath as she could as her excitement rose to new peaks.
“Your punishment for being disrespectful will be a flogging. A far cry from what I had planned, but these things happen.”
“Jonas,” she breathed his name, unable to say more because of her anxiety.
A crack, like the retort of a gun, echoed through the nearly empty room. The next instant, a blazing fire spread across her bottom where his spank had landed.
“Respectful address, try again.”
“I’m a little scared, Sensei.”
“Better. You have to learn to trust me, dorei. Do you?”
“Yes.”
“You will come to realize that I am always careful with you. No more talking now, it’s a waste of breath. I told you that if you were ever in this position, the punishment decision had already been made. You will accept your lesson gracefully, won’t you?”
“Yes, Sensei.”
“Good girl.”
Taking a step back, he moved to her side. Her eyes were transfixed as she watched him swing the multi-strand whip. She tensed as the whoosh of the leather tails flew toward her skin. When they landed, it was a soft, gentle caress.
He grunted. “The ropes are obstructing my target. Let’s get rid of your
matanawa
, shall we?”
Lexie’s confusion at the vaguely familiar term was cleared up when he released the crotch rope in the back allowing it to fall freely until it hung from her waist in front. She wiggled a bit as the cool air in the room wafted across her warm, wet center.
“Let’s try again.”
Returning to his position at her side, he extended his arm and gave a flick of his wrist. The same whooshing sound preceded the floggers caress. He continued, the strokes gradually coming faster, and a bit heavier. Soon he had the flogger moving in a circular motion with just the ends striking the taut skin of her bottom. After several moments, he slowly changed the angle, moving from one side to the other. Soon he was alternating cheeks and thighs. The caress had changed from soft to stinging, but with no real pain.
A pattern to his strokes soon became clear. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, thwap. Three light strokes, then a hard one. Again, the pattern repeated. The last of the four was the hardest and stung like blue blazes causing Lexie to yelp. Instantly, his hand found her bottom.
“Pink and warm, exactly what I’m aiming for,” was his murmured assessment before he resumed.
As the next stroke fell, she cried out, although it wasn’t from pain.
“What color are you, dorei?” He asked without a break in his rhythm.
“Green.”
As he continued the pattern, time seemed suspended. Heat built with the sting on her bottom and thighs while a burning hotness also stirred in her core. The feelings co-mingled and in her mind were difficult to distinguish. At last, she was unable to contain herself any longer and let out a soft sob. “Please, Sensei. I’m sorry.”
The flogger stopped and he stepped closer, his hand stroking over her skin. “Shh, I know you’re sorry and you’re taking your punishment so well. Think about what you did and remember this feeling so that it’s not repeated. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Are you ready to continue?”
“It stings.”
“Such is a punishment, or else it wouldn’t be effective, would it?” Crouching in front of her, he brushed his lips across her brow. Leaning back, he stroked the plaited handle along her jaw. “This is my favorite flogger. It’s made of deerskin, very lightweight and is just right for beginners. You’ll find that I haven’t raised a single welt or blister, only pretty pink skin. Now then, I want you to answer truthfully: is it worse than my hand?”
“No, Sir, your hand is much harder.”