AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Being belittled and unnecessarily criticized shows nothing of your character, but it shows a lot of the other person's."
I know it's been a bit longer to get this out as it has the other chapters, but I've been threatened by death to finish Hiliad's Special Gift.
And as always, a big shout out to my cherished Editor.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Gayle slipped out of bed, knowing full well how flushed her face and chest were. She might have thought she was a strong woman, but her body had apparently decided to betray her. After putting his collar on, she debated whether to put the apron back on too, but decided against it, though slipped the heels on with a groan.
Heading downstairs to the kitchen to find something to make for dinner, she met Bessie at the foot of the stairs. "Bessie! Hey, girl. Do you have to go potty? Let's find your daddy to get your leash."
Going to Hamish's library, she saw him sitting behind his desk staring at the computer deep in thought. Stopping in the doorway, she wasn't sure exactly what to do because he hadn't acknowledged her. She remembered the submissives at The Crucible sitting at their Master's and Mistress's feet and figured that was a good place to start.
Quietly walking towards him, he clicked the mouse a few times but he never said anything. The edge of the rug was by the chair, thankfully, so she knelt, rested her bum on her heels, put the back of her hands on her thighs and kept her head down.
Several minutes passed before he said, though didn't look at her, "Do you have something you want to tell me, Ms. Boyce?" His voice wasn't angry, but there was an underlying tone she couldn't ascertain.
She replied without looking up, "I wanted to ask you for the leash to take Bessie out, Sir."
"No need. I've taken her out. Anything else?"
"Oh, that's right." Horrible attempt, there, idiot! she thought. "What would you like for dinner? Do you still want the bacon sardines?" she asked, purposefully making up the name to get some kind of reaction out of him.
"Jessie will be here at five to make us dinner, and you will serve. What else?"
That wasn't exactly the reaction she wanted. She wondered how the hell he could have gone from being silly and laughing so easily to being so callous. And the wall comes slamming back down.
Trying to remain calm, she looked up at him and asked, "Sir? Are you angry with me?"
He finally turned to look at her, and the expression on his face told her everything. She had gone to the bathroom to clean herself up before she came down, but she didn't think he could smell ... wait, he knew her scent from when he went down on her.
There's no way! Oh, fuck! she groaned to herself. He can smell my ...?! She hung her head in shame. "Sir, I ... In my bed, I ... Sir, I ... played with myself."
"Did you come?" She nodded. "And did I give you permission?" She shook her head. "Did you forget your orgasms are mine?" Amazingly, his voice remained calm.
Tears filled her eyes and she did feel ashamed of herself. He put his fingers under her chin and pushed it up to look into her eyes. He hesitated a moment before he said, "Your tears tell me you are remorseful for disobeying me, but I'm afraid I can't let your transgression go."
"I understand, Sir. I'm sorry."
"You might be sorry, but the fact remains you've blatantly defied me. I am really going to enjoy your punishment Friday," he added, as if an afterthought. "Head down and remain as you are."
He turned around, picked up the phone, dialed several numbers, made an appointment with the dial tone for six and hung up. Then he went back to his computer. Barely able to control his elation at another chance for training, his mind reeled with two things: One -- How to punish her; and Two -- what he could have her do for the next three hours waiting for Karen to arrive.
Recalling the multiple times his old uni mate John Ramsay had shown him how to bind someone with rope, he thought now was as good a time as any to see what he remembered.
Letting ten minutes slip by, he went to a shelf next to the fireplace and pressed a hidden button to open his small dressing room-sized play room. There he kept his goodies: The bench he'd used, several floggers and a cherished whip, and other fun toys.
Grabbing several knotted ropes, a clothes pin, nipples clamps, a blindfold and some tissues from the bathroom, he approached Gayle and handed her the wipes. "Dry your eyes, Ms. Boyce." Sniffling, she did so then he secured the blindfold over her eyes. "Can you see anything?"
She tilted her head every which way before she replied, "No Sir."
She prayed he wouldn't be too harsh with her, but she also knew she deserved everything she had coming.
Moving the two leather chairs aside to give him room, Hamish untied the lengths of rope and laid them neatly beside a sharp utility knife, used in case she panicked and needed to be released quickly. He hoped it wouldn't come to that.
"Come. At ease," Hamish said, and when she got on her feet, he gave her directions as she took small steps toward his voice. "Good. At least you are listening to me now," he chortled as she stood in front of him.
He slipped one length of rope through the collar ring and pulled it through. As he did, it would either snap against a breast or her stomach, though not painfully, or scrape against her skin. Knowing it was rope but not able to see exactly where it would land, whenever it did it would cause goose bumps, forcing a startled gasp at the sensation. It felt like a knife was scraping her skin, not a harmless rope.
For what felt like forever, he continued to bring more rope front and back, here and there, around her back and then tugged tightly in the front. She was bound very securely, and though she tried, she couldn't move her arms a millimeter. Strands of the rope ran over her shoulders, her upper arms and forearms, held into place as it ran under her breasts to her back, just at the shoulder blades. She felt the strain in her shoulders at the unnatural angle, but she tried to fight past it.
Unexpectedly, a sense of calmness invaded her completely, though it came from the inside out. She couldn't understand why or how, but she didn't fight it. She felt ... safe.
"Ms. Boyce, what is your color?" he asked as he stood behind her with his hand gently on her shoulder.
She hesitated as she thought. "Green, Sir."
"Very good."
He circled her several times admiring her body, not his work. He also noticed her nipples had sprung up nicely, which gave him another idea. He then took another length of rope behind her back and brought it to her front. Letting the ends fall to the floor, he cupped her breasts and tweaked her nipples, getting an instant response as they grew harder. She moaned under her breath as her mouth dropped.
As he was playing with her nipples, surges of electricity coursed through her body, and she began to feel a little weak in the knees.
Taking the rope he'd just put on, he wrapped it around a breast three times, making sure it was tight enough to bring the mounds out further, then tied it in the back. Again he repeated the steps with another length and her other breast was bound.
"Lovely, but let me check something," he said with a hint of evil.
He brought his hand between her legs until he reached her clit, purposely not touching it before he reached his goal. First running it over the folds of her pussy, the moisture that met his fingertip made his cock twinge in an instant.
"I see you are enjoying this," he commented then stepped back.
Yes, she was enjoying it, but she didn't understand why. She was afraid to answer, and since it wasn't a question, she didn't say anything.
"I'm curious, how does it feel?"
"It makes me feel ... safe, secure. It feels good, actually, Sir."
"Have you dabbled in bondage?" She shook her head, but he promptly smacked an ass cheek. "When I ask you a question, I expect an answer."
"Yes Sir," she croaked. "No, I've never been bound."
"And nipple clamps?"
Her stomach churned with nerves. "No Sir."
"Would you like to try them?"
No. Yes. Maybe. "Yes Sir."
He smiled then took the nipple clamps, pinched and tweaked it to see if it would grow further, which it didn't. Taking as much of the bud as he could, he parted the prongs and clasped it closed, staying as far away from the tip as possible.
She groaned from the back of her throat but held her ground.
When he did the other, he asked, "On a scale of one to ten, how's the pain?"
"It's a ... seven, Sir."
"I stayed away from the tip on purpose, but I will push your limits on that in the future. Stay as you are."
Going back to the toy closet, he took a big dog cushion and set it beside his chair by the desk. Sitting down, he accidentally kicked Bessie, who was sitting underneath the desk looking up at him as if to say, 'If you need me, I'm right here.'
"Ms. Boyce, do as you did before and follow my voice ..." He again called directions to the pillow, and he helped her get settled in the middle of it with her knees spread. "How's this position?"
"Fine, Sir."
"Brilliant. There's one more step, and it will gauge your limits and how far I can take you. But first, can you tell me what's put you here right now?"
"Yes Sir. I ... masturbated."
"Correct. Spread your legs wider and bring your hips forward to expose as much of your pussy as you can."
When she did, she almost fell forward but Hamish caught her. His forearms grazed against a clamp, making it move a little. She gasped in pain because as the minutes had passed, the pain grew and grew as the grip got tighter from her still-growing nipples.
Slowly, he ran his hand over her pussy again, and her breathing became shallow, almost in a pant. Her mind had been so wrapped around the pain on her nipples that she could feel herself grow wetter, much to her chagrin.
He growled in her ear, flicking his finger over her clit until she whined, causing her to tilt her head back slightly and open her mouth further. Slowly, he slid his other hand to the nape of her neck and pulled it forward. Without a word, he took her bottom lip and bit it, not hard, but hard enough to get her attention. She sighed and held her breath.
