Hard To Handle (Rawhide) Read online

  “I always insist on a safeword,” she told him. She’d learned the hard way what happened when you didn’t have one. “I know a lot of subs won’t use one because they want to go to extremes, but I insist on one.” She gave a breathy little laugh. “Safe, sane, and consensual, right?”

  “I completely agree,” he assured her.

  Bailey nibbled on her lower lip. How had this happened so quickly? Tonight she had promised herself she would only observe. Scope out the club’s membership. Ask questions of Liz and Alex. Really get a feel for the club and decide if she could be comfortable immersing herself in this again, especially considering her unfailingly bad judgment where Doms were concerned. Maybe even get some guidance on that from Liz.

  But Hondo impacted her with erotic sensations so intense her nerves danced and her pulse did a wild jungle dance. Every reaction to him she’d forcibly tamped down since the moment she met him exploded like a display of fireworks.

  “Let me prove to you that we can be good together. And that it won’t affect our work situation at all.” He leaned a little closer. “Trust me, Bailey. Okay?”

  She pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, hoping that once again she wasn’t making a bad decision. “Okay, then. Ask to see my preference card. If it turns you off, you have to wipe it from your mind. If not, then I’ll take a chance on you.”

  Hondo lifted her hand and pressed his lips to it before signaling for the dungeon master.

  Game on!

  ****

  Holy shit!

  He could hardly believe his luck. He was actually alone with Bailey French, the woman of his wet dreams. Here. At Rawhide. People who said “like called to like” definitely knew what they were talking about. He realized now this was the invisible magnet that had been drawing them together.

  All the nights Hondo had spent having erotic fantasies about Bailey French when he’d considered her beyond reach banged together in his mind. Tonight he would finally have the opportunity to experience the real thing.

  And the icing on the kink? She wanted the same things he did, at least sexually.

  Better do it right, buddy boy. You screw up, there won’t be a second chance.

  He slipped the key card the dungeon master had given him into the lock of the private room, pushed the door open, and stood aside for Bailey to enter. He had to trust that she knew this was the last time he would defer to her tonight, except in the use of her safeword.

  The atmosphere in the room was already set, with soft lighting, barely audible instrumental music, and the faint but discernible scent of eucalyptus in the air. All things guaranteed to stimulate the senses.

  Hondo took a moment to drink in the sight of her, absent of her usual work clothes. The heels on her high fashion boots added needed height to what he figured was barely five-foot-four. He wondered daily how someone that small could wrangle horses as easily as she did, but now he saw the well-defined muscles in her arms, supple beneath her smooth skin. Nicely rounded breasts teased at him and graceful legs drew his eyes to very sexy hips.

  Her dark hair, rather than being pulled back in its usual pony tail, tumbled in loose curls around her shoulders. Thick lashes framed eyes highlighted with smoky shadow and, beneath a straight nose, full lips wore just a hint of red lipstick. Lips that he wanted to suck and bite. That he wanted to see wrapped around his cock.

  Control, asshole, or this will be over before it starts.

  She moved into the center of the room and almost immediately clasped her hands behind her back and lowered her head. A trained sub. Very good. But he sensed that she was a troubled sub, also. If things worked out tonight and he wanted to pursue this—which he was sure would be the case—he’d have to probe delicately to find out exactly what her hidden problem was.

  “First things first,” he told her. “Safeword.”

  She kept her gaze on the floor as she answered him. “Jupiter.”

  “Jupiter?” What kind of safeword was that? Although he’d certainly heard a lot of them more unusual.

  “That was the name of my horse when I was in high school.”

  It occurred to him he knew almost nothing about her except how well she handled the horses. He’d been so focused on getting her naked he hadn’t spent any time finding out about the person. What kind of jackass did that make him? He planned to rectify that situation as soon as possible.

  Meanwhile, he had to concentrate on tonight.

  “Is there anything else I should know before we begin?”

  She tightened her clasped hands and worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Uh oh. What was going on here?

  “Permission to speak freely, Sir?”

  Hondo tensed. Was she about to dump a problem on him that he wouldn’t want to deal with? But he’d asked her so, like any really good Dom, he needed to listen. As much to what she didn’t say as what she did.

  “Of course. You need never be afraid to say anything to me. Ever.” He made his tone as reassuring as possible. She’d come to the room with him willingly, but she was definitely skittish about something.

  “My…needs can be somewhat extreme at times.” A faint blush colored her cheeks. “I have not always had the best luck with Doms understanding that.”

  He wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but he’d been in this lifestyle a long time and suddenly it clicked into place in his brain.

  “Was it because you’re into extreme edgeplay?”

  She nodded.

  “The fear place aspect of it?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “And your Doms either take you too far or are afraid to take you far at all. Do I have that right?”

  She nodded again.

  “Bailey, look at me. I give you permission to raise your eyes and look at me.” When she did he smiled. “We will go very slowly here. I’m very good at reading responses. I’ll never give you more than you can take and never back off unless you need me to. I know how to play the fear game. We’ll take it in stages. Do you believe me?”

  She took so long to answer he was almost afraid to hear what she’d say.

  Then, in a soft, voice, she said, “Yes. Sir. I do.”

  “Very good then. Remove your clothes slowly before I prepare for our first session.” Which he hoped would not be their last. “I want to see every inch of you.”

  He watched her unbutton the blouse with fingers that trembled slightly, the soft fabric falling away. She shrugged and it dropped to the floor. No bra. He figured as much, the way her nipples were practically boring through the material, but his mouth watered at the sight of her naked breasts. Round and plump, they were tipped with rosy brown nipples and surrounded by wide aureoles. His fingers flexed as they itched to pinch them.

  The skirt was next, a micro piece of leather that joined her blouse, leaving her standing there in a scarlet thong and those sexy strappy sandals.

  “Stop,” he commanded.

  She tensed, as if she’d done something wrong and he was going to scold her.

  “I want to touch you right now.” He made his voice as soft as he could. “Leave the sandals on. They make me hard. But I want to take off the thong myself.”

  Her body was exactly as he had imagined it so many times, lying in his bed at night. Feminine yet at the same time muscled from hard work. Her work jeans had only hinted at the luscious curve of her ass, of hip and thigh. He could easily imagine those strong thighs gripping him as he plunged into her.

  He crouched in front of her. He would have knelt, but that was a position for his sub and he had no intention of changing roles. Hooking his fingers in the tiny straps at her hips, he tugged slightly, just exposing the top of her mound. Very carefully he drew a line with his tongue, her soft curls brushing against him like a whisper of a feather.

  He had wondered if she kept her pussy bare. Did she wax it? Shave it? Trim it? When he took the fabric in his teeth and eased it over her pussy, his cock flexed at the sight. Below the top strip of hair two thin
lines of curls defined the lips of her cunt. The rest of it was blessedly, beautifully exposed.

  “Nice, but I’d love to see it totally bare.”

  Unable to help himself, he licked her folds, finding her clit and nibbling it with his teeth. Bailey trembled in his hands as he sucked the furled nub of flesh into his mouth and pressed it hard between his lips. It was all he could do to make himself release it and stand up so he could prepare her for the session.

  “Submissive pose,” he ordered as he opened the drawer of a wide chest.

  Obediently, Bailey dropped to her knees, head lowered and hands again behind her back.

  Scanning the selection of toys and instruments, he tried to choose carefully for this first session. Years ago, he’d discovered that edgeplay—the extreme form of BDSM—gave him the most satisfaction. He’d learned from a respected Dom and an experienced sub exactly how to give pleasure to subs for whom pain was the ultimate sexual stimulant. Casual play in the club scene had fulfilled him for a long time, and he’d perfected his skills at fire play and knife play.

  But now he was at a point in his life where that wasn’t enough. He wanted the emotional as well as the physical. Finding the right sub, one who wanted more than just the pain and the fear but craved the sexual and emotional satisfaction it gave, wasn’t an easy journey. To find that one perfect person with whom he could share a relationship of ultimate trust and power exchange.

  From the moment he laid eyes on Bailey French, something inside him had unraveled. Whatever it was had continued to grow until he realized he wanted her to be that person. Tonight was the opportunity to find out if that was possible. If she could feel the same way and they were headed in that direction.

  From the drawer, he withdrew two razor-sharp knives of different lengths, unsure which one he’d use. He’d wanted to cut away her clothing, but that would have left her with nothing to wear home. Next time—and there would definitely be a next time—he’d make sure she was prepared. But he knew how to wield the blades for maximum sexual stimulation on her naked body.

  Next, he pulled out a fire wand, a bottle of alcohol, a box of wipes, a small bottle of oil, and a short flogger. The handle of the flogger was wrapped with leather, and a dozen strands with the thickness and rough surface of short hanks of rope hung from it. The application of the instrument would give him an idea of her pain threshold and set the tone for the rest of their play. He set everything on a small table against the wall near the St. Andrews Cross. He’d requested a room specifically with that piece of equipment.

  And finally, he selected a trio of condoms. He wasn’t sure he’d make it past one tonight, but he wanted to be prepared.

  “Rise, sub,” he ordered.

  When she did, he wrapped his fingers around one wrist and led her to the Cross. His body tensed with anticipation and desire, he arranged her face down, spread-eagled, locking the cuffs around her ankles and wrists. He didn’t know if silence was her thing or if she preferred to have her Dom tell her what he was doing, so this was going to be trial and error this first night. For the moment, he opted for silence. He took a moment to run his hand over her body from neck to ankle, reveling in the sight of her naked and spread-eagled for his pleasure.

  Then he turned to the array of things he’d selected. Pouring some of the oil in the palm of one hand, he held the other hand over it for a moment to warm it before applying it to her skin. When he used the flogger on her, the oil would intensify the sensations, cause the marks of the flogger to swell and increase the level of pain. As he moved his hands over her body, her nerves twitched involuntarily, an unconscious reaction to his touch. It told him how sensitive her body was, an indication of just how responsive she’d be to him.

  By now, his cock was so hard he was sure it would break off if he didn’t get some relief. He thought about taking off his slacks, but if he let his shaft free, he was afraid he’d come long before he was ready. His problem was that right from the first day they’d met, Bailey French just did it for him. Made him so hot every time he looked at her it was almost embarrassing.

  He’d worked months to get past the invisible wall she had erected around herself enough to even have a conversation with her. The fact that she was here with him, now, in this place, was incredibly arousing. He flexed his hands and pulled himself completely into his Dom persona.

  The first time with a sub was always, to a degree, experimental. That was the only word for it. He always listened to what she said, but her responses told him more. And he desperately wanted to get it right with Bailey. So he’d grit his teeth and reach for every ounce of control he could find. He couldn’t rush this. He knew that.

  As he spread the oil over her rounded buttocks, he let his fingers slide into the hot crevice. She clenched against him momentarily then relaxed. He took the opportunity to press one finger against the tight pucker of her anus and wondered what it would be like to fill that dark channel with a thick butt plug and tease her curves with a fire wand.

  Enough! Get on with it!

  “Let’s see what a punishment session tells me.”

  At last, he picked up the flogger and went to stand where she could see him running the short thick strands through his fingers. He especially liked to use this one because it had the effect of striking with several ropes at one time.

  “I find that this helps me gauge a sub’s level of pain tolerance,” he told her. “We haven’t been together before, and I take the welfare of my sub very seriously. I need to know just how far and how hard I can push you.”

  He could see her entire body relax, and he wondered what kind of assholes she’d encountered in her journey to find sexual fulfillment.

  It had taken careful training for him to learn exactly how far he could take a sub. Understand the exact level of pain that gave her the maximum pleasure. How to wield a knife. How long the flame should burn. How to pile sensation upon sensation. Some of it was conditioning, but a great deal of it, as his training master had told him, was his innate ability to connect with the sub. Something that couldn’t be taught.

  “Ten strokes,” he went on, walking around to the other side but still keeping himself in her vision. “They’ll warm up that sweet ass and turn it a nice shade of red. Then we’ll go from there.”

  He moved away from her peripheral vision and without any other signal brought the flogger down—smack!—on the oiled skin of her ass. She flinched slightly, but the involuntary moan was one of pleasure not distress. A row of red stripes from each tail of the flogger appeared in sharp relief on her skin. He applied the next one and the next, the heavy strips making a thudding sound on her flesh, each one like a bolt of lust driving through his own body. Her flesh turned a delicious shade of deep pink. He only wished he could capture the image in a photo to look at during nights when he lay hard and wanting in his bed. Alone.

  Sounds of pleasure burst from her in a steady stream as he administered the flogger, applying it rhythmically to her ass and the backs of her thighs. Although she struggled against the restraints, he sensed she didn’t really want to be free. Her cries of ecstasy were indicative of the intensity of her response, growing louder with each one. When he hit the ten count, he tossed it aside and thrust his fingers lightly into her cunt, testing her arousal.

  Soaked!

  She was every bit as responsive as he’d imagined she would be, embracing the pain, silently demanding more. Moving just enough to be able to see the expression on her face and in her eyes, it startled him to realize she had already taken herself into subspace, that place removed from reality where almost anything could be tolerated. He swallowed a smile of satisfaction and placed a kiss at the base of her spine.

  “You like that flogger, Bailey? Nod if you do.”

  Her head was pretty immobilized, but she moved it affirmatively just a fraction.

  He picked up the flogger again and pressed the handle against her pussy. “How about inside you? Like that, do you?”

  Spreading he
r soaked lips to give himself better access, he pushed the handle inside a little at a time. It was the thickness of his cock, and she took it without much effort. He couldn’t wait to get the real thing inside her.

  Jesus!

  He pressed his hand against his throbbing dick, wondering if he should take himself in hand just to take the pressure off.

  No!

  He’d envisioned for so long how it would feel to come inside that sweet pussy, he wasn’t going to do anything to reduce the effect. He was torn between wanting to give her multiple orgasms and forcing her to hold back until he was ready to fuck her. The problem was, he was so hot and aroused he was sure he could come if she just blinked her eyes.

  He thrust a little harder. “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes.” She let out a breath. “Sir.”

  “Would you like to feel something else? Something a little sharper?” At that, he felt her clench around the flogger handle. A fine sheen of perspiration covered her skin. His laugh was low and filled with hunger. “I’ll take that as a yes. I’ve got just the thing for you.”

  Removing the flogger, he lifted one of the knives from the table. He’d practiced for many years to be able to do this right. One wrong move and a sub could be in real danger. But long ago he’d had a very good trainer, and now he gave silent thanks for that.

  “Don’t move,” he commanded.

  He placed the edge of the blade against the lower curve of one cheek of her buttocks, holding it at an angle, and slowly dragged it across the thick, bright red stripes. Her muscles tightened, and little erotic sounds drifted from her mouth.

  “I can do a lot of things with this knife, sub. Use it in a lot of ways.”

  He scraped it slowly across the other cheek, then pushed it oh so lightly against the surface of the skin. Not enough to draw blood, just enough to gauge her reaction. What she could tolerate. Moving around in front of her, he slid his hand into the notch where her chin rested and cupped it in his palm. He wanted to see her eyes. They’d tell him the truth of it.