She wanted, she suddenly realized, to realign the balance of power. She wanted to make him mad with passion for her—to control his lust as she moved over him, riding him like a stallion, leading him by the rein of her feminine power to an orgasm that would leave him weak with desire and totally in her command.
“You do, huh?” Donovan grinned, remaining immobile against her attempts to move him into a supine position. Instead he closed his arms more firmly around her and stood, lifting her into the air. He set her unceremoniously on her ass on the floor and pointed to his bare foot.
“That’s something you’re a long way from earning. Now, kneel properly and thank me for the spanking and the orgasm. It’ll be the last one for a while. We’re going to move on now to a little basic training.”
Jordan felt the heat flooding into her face. A dozen retorts rose to her lips. Who the fuck did he think he was! He was smiling down at her with a shit-eating grin, his eyebrows lifting as if to say, What, you have a problem with that?
Then she remembered herself, and the bet, and what she had signed on for. If she balked now, he would win, or more precisely, she would lose. She had promised herself to approach this weekend with an open mind. She had been letting her cunt get in the way of rational thinking. If a sub had told her he wanted to fuck her while they were in the middle of training, she would have laughed in his face. At least Donovan hadn't done that!
Blowing out a breath, Jordan forced herself into position on her knees and leaned forward. Her ass still smarted from the spanking but embarrassment at his refusal had snuffed her lust, leaving only chagrin. Still, she knew the drill. Good little sub girls did what they were told. It was only for two days. Piece of cake.
She kissed the top of his foot. “Thank you, Sir.”
~*~
“One key feature of submissive behavior is putting aside your pride. Your role as a submissive is to serve, to honor and obey your Master without hesitation and without concern for your own pleasure or pride. It’s not enough just to go through the motions. A true submissive puts her Master before herself. Her sense of ego satisfaction is derived from pleasing and obeying her Master.”
They stood in the playroom facing one another. Donovan could almost hear Jordan’s decidedly unsubmissive thoughts at the assertion that this somehow applied to her. He watched the play of emotions move over her face, but to her credit, she kept her mouth shut. And what a lovely mouth it was, the lower lip full, protruding slightly as she listened. He wanted to bite it. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to fuck her. Oh god, he wanted that.
And she wanted to fuck him. Of course she did, after what he’d done to her. He wasn’t egocentric enough to think she really wanted him, Donovan the man. No, what she’d been reacting to was Donovan, the Master, and feelings he’d been able to pull from her during the spanking/titillation exercise. Which was in itself a good thing—if she was as hardcore a dominant as she tried to maintain, no way could she have come like that during a spanking. The fact that she then wanted to have sex was even more proof she was turned on by what had occurred, whether or not she was ready to admit it.
Her approach, however, had been decidedly dominant when she tried to push him over, her expression filled with masterful intention. It was that behavior he was determined to tame. Jordan was still operating off her feminine charms, which he had to admit were considerable. His goal by the end of the two days was to have her naked, not only literally, but metaphorically. He would show her the naked beauty and power of submission.
The fetch exercise would be a good place to start chipping away at her dominant armor. He held out the small red rubber ball. “Get on your hands and knees. I’m going to toss this ball and you will crawl to wherever it lands and retrieve it with your mouth. No hands. Bring it back to me and place it at my feet.”
Jordan’s brow furrowed, her mouth pulling down into a frown. Donovan moved quickly to close the space between them. He slapped her right cheek. Jordan gasped, bringing her hand to her face, her eyes wide with shock.
“There are different forms of disobedience, as you well know,” Donovan said firmly. “One important aspect of control, young lady, is learning to control your expression. You’re here right now as my sub, don’t forget. If you don’t like something I tell you, or you have a real concern about being able to follow an order, you may ask for permission to speak. I will listen to your concerns and make my decision. You will not scrunch up your face like some bratty kid. Is that understood?”
Her eyes flashed, but Donovan stared her down, pleased when the fire went out of them and her brow smoothed. “Yes, Sir,” she said softly.
He pointed again to the carpet. “On your hands and knees.” He waited for her to obey. Then he tossed the ball lightly across the floor. Jordan didn’t move, as if waiting for Donovan to tell her he was kidding. He crossed his arms over his chest. He would give her five seconds, and then he would punish her.
One. Two. Three. Four.
She began to crawl in the direction of the ball. Donovan admired the sway of her ass as she headed toward the corner where the ball had rolled. She bent down, biting the small ball and turning back toward him. Despite his admonition to control her features, he could see the fury in her face.
They would have to work on that.
She returned to him and lowered her head, dropping the ball beside his left foot. Donovan reached down to retrieve it and tossed it again. Again the mutinous stare, but this time she began to crawl after only two seconds. She brought the ball back and again he tossed it. With a little sigh of impatience, she again crawled in the direction of the ball. This time it had rolled beneath the spanking sawhorse and Jordan had to maneuver carefully to get the ball from between the legs of the horse but she managed.
When she dropped the ball once more at his feet, she made a show of spitting out bits of carpet fuzz. Donovan watched, tolerantly amused. He picked up the ball, wet from her saliva, and wiped it against his thigh. He moved toward the whip rack and withdrew a long-handled riding crop.
“You’re going through the motions,” he observed, “but you’re still exhibiting far too much pride. You move too slowly and you think too much. Let’s try this again with a little help from the crop.”
He tossed the ball again and this time when she began to crawl he walked behind her, smacking her ass and thighs with the crop. “Faster,” he admonished. “Move!”
She yelped but sped up, moving quickly over the carpet on her hands and knees. She bent for the ball, her ass lifting alluringly into the air as she did so. He could see the pucker of her little asshole and his cock hardened at the thought of penetrating it. Was she an anal virgin? Not that it mattered.
She twisted back, the ball in her mouth. She dropped it by his feet, looking hopefully up at him. He retrieved the ball and tossed it again, and her hopeful look slid away, replaced again with a bratty expression. Silly girl. She was her own worst enemy.
He cropped her ass as she scurried along after the ball, which had rolled to the sofa, stopping just at its edge. “Be careful,” he warned. “If it rolls under there you won’t be able to get it. If you can’t retrieve the ball, I’ll have to punish you.”
“But—” she began to protest, before catching herself. She pressed her lips together. Donovan waited, watching her. She shifted, moving carefully as she lowered her mouth to the ball. It started to roll but she managed to get hold of it. Again she turned toward him, her expression triumphant.
Donovan pointed to the ground at his feet. She dropped the ball. He tossed it again. It was clear she was getting fatigued, but she was young and strong, and he prodded her along with the crop, forcing her to retrieve the ball again and again until all the mutinous fire had been extinguished from her expression and she sought only to obey.
Finally Donovan took the ball from between her teeth before she could drop it. “Good girl,” he said, patting her head. “You deserve a treat. Get up on your haunches and lift your arms like this
.” Donovan demonstrated, bending his arms at the elbows and holding his hands up in front of his chest like an eager puppy begging for a bone.
Jordan didn’t move. She flushed, two red spots appearing like spots of rouge on her cheeks while her neck turned red. Donovan watched, fascinated at her level of resistance. He wasn’t used to dealing with someone like this. She was indeed a challenge.
“Pride,” he reminded her softly. Finally she sat back on her haunches and slowly lifted her arms into position. Donovan nodded his approval. “Better,” he said. “You’re like a little doggie waiting for her bone.” The flush deepened, but she managed to maintain her puppy pose.
Donovan left her there while he went to the treat drawer. He took out a small piece of Belgian chocolate from its gold foil wrapper and returned to her. “You like chocolate?” He held out the piece of candy.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”
She did as she was told. Donovan had a sudden erotically-charged fantasy of pulling out his aching cock and placing it there instead of the chocolate. He would have loved to hold her head in his hands as he eased his girth between her lips, pushing forward until his cock touched the back of her throat. Yes, he would do that. He would definitely do that, and soon. But first, the good little puppy had earned her chocolate treat.
He leaned down and placed the bit of confection on her pretty pink tongue and then patted her head. “Good girl,” he said, ignoring the sudden, reignited flash of defiance in her pretty green eyes.
They would work on that. Oh yes, they would.
Chapter 8
At lunch Donovan insisted on feeding Jordan, who knelt on the cushion at his feet. “It’s time to ratchet up the intensity, Jordan. After all, we only have a day and a half left.”
Jordan pondered this as she chewed. The time so far had already been pretty damn intense as far as she was concerned. But he hadn't asked for her input, and she offered none. She had come very close to outright refusing to crawl around like a dog, even though intellectually she understood the purpose of the exercise.
The spanking had been something else, more powerful and erotically charged than she’d expected, and the orgasm had been without question the most intense one of her life. Was that because of the spanking, or in spite of it? She honestly didn’t know.
After lunch Donovan led her back upstairs, this time to the master bedroom. “You need to pee?” he asked her.
Jordan nodded, and then caught herself and added aloud, “Yes, Sir.”
Donovan led her into the bathroom. She stood there waiting for him to leave the room. Instead he leaned against the counter, watching her in that amused, exasperating way she was coming to recognize as his go on, I dare you to refuse me look.
Biting back a sigh, Jordan lowered herself to the toilet and emptied her bladder. She kept her face averted from Donovan while she peed, though she could feel his eyes on her. When she was done and washing her hands, Donovan stepped to the toilet, lifted the lid, extracted his cock from his jeans and peed noisily into the bowl without the slightest trace of self-consciousness. It was easier for men, Jordan decided. They were used to peeing in public at urinals. It was no big deal to them.
They went back into the bedroom. “Get on the bed,” Donovan instructed. Now this was more like it. Bed equaled sex, right? Jordan was definitely ready for some hot, sweaty sex with this sexy man. She’d certainly earned it, hadn't she?
But Donovan wasn’t pulling off his shirt and unzipping his jeans. Instead, he opened the drawer of the night table and pulled out several coils of ropes and a shrink wrapped item. Setting the rope down on the bed beside her, Donovan stripped off the sterile wrapping to reveal a large stainless steel hook with a metal loop on one end, and two stainless steel balls like a tiny snowman welded to the curved end of the hook, one the size of a ping pong ball, the other the size of a golf ball.
“You know what this is?” Donovan held the ominous-looking device up for Jordan’s inspection.
She swallowed hard. “Yes, Sir,” she managed. She’d seen these on porn sites, but holy crap, he wasn’t actually going to use that on her, was he?
“Tell me,” the Master instructed. “Tell me in your own words what this is.”
“It’s an anal hook, Sir. Except there’re two balls at the end?”
“That’s right. I like this better than a single ball. It goes deeper into the anus than a single ball. And this ring loop is handy for rope. Too bad your hair isn’t long enough. If it was, I would use your hair to hold the hook in place. As it is, we’ll just use the rope.”
He pointed toward the ceiling and Jordan followed his gaze to a large eyebolt, one of several anchored into the ceiling above the bed. How many other women had been the subject, or should she say the object, of his erotic training? How many of them had been his lover as well as his sub?
She looked again at the anal hook and felt her ass cheeks clenching. Though she had experienced anal sex before, she had an aversion to what she thought of as “foreign objects” being put inside of her orifices, especially her ass. She watched with rising trepidation as Donovan pulled a tube of lubricant from the drawer.
“Permission to speak, Sir?” she ventured.
Donovan turned to her. “Of course.”
“I’m not sure… I mean, I don’t like things in my ass.” Jordan felt herself blushing but pushed on. “You know, things, foreign objects. It makes me nervous. Especially something like that, you know? It seems kind of dangerous. I’m not comfortable with it.”
Donovan looked at her thoughtfully. “Okay. I hear you.”
Jordan felt a rush of relief, but this gave way to confusion as Donovan took a hank of rope and began to loop it through the ring on the end of the anal hook. “What’re you doing?” Jordan blurted. “I just said I don’t like that. It makes me nervous.”
Donovan nodded calmly, though he didn’t stop what he was doing. “Yes. I heard you say that. I understand.”
“So…?” Jordan let the question hang. What was going on?
“So, that’s fine. You have registered your discomfort with this exercise. I have heard you and taken that into consideration. Now I want you to get on your hands and knees on the end of the bed, ass out. I’m going to insert this double-balled anal hook into that pretty ass of yours, and then I’m going to tie the other end with this rope to the hook in the ceiling. We’ll use a thinner cane this time, one that marks the skin more easily.”
Apparently seeing the look that must have been on Jordan’s face, Donovan grinned and shook his head. “Don’t worry. The three bywords are still at play here. The way I’m going to position you will not put you in danger. The hook is really just there to encourage you to stay still.”
“But…” Jordan bleated, dumbstruck. Was he serious? Jordan’s heart had kicked into overdrive. Was this the time to use her safeword?
Donovan set the hook and rope down and sat on the bed next to Jordan. He took her face into his hands and peered into her soul with his deep blue eyes. “Stop fighting me, Jordan. Let me take you to a new place. Trust me.” Jordan felt the panicked pounding of her heart easing as she stared into his eyes. She wanted to trust him. She wanted to give this a chance.
“But I’m scared,” she found herself saying.
“I understand.” Donovan nodded. “Fear in and of itself is not a bad thing. It can heighten an erotic experience, especially for someone like you.”
Someone like you…
Jordan no longer knew what this meant. He seemed so sure, yet still she resisted. Trust me. Slowly she nodded. She would try. She always had her safeword if things got too scary or too intense to handle. “Okay. Okay, Sir,” she finally agreed.
Donovan grinned. “Glad I have your permission, sub girl. Now, get on your hands and knees like I told you. Go on, move.” He stood, retrieving the hook and rope while Jordan moved into position on the end of the bed, her heart again kicking into gear.
She jerked forward when the cold, lubricated metal ball touched her sphincter. “Relax,” Donovan soothed. “The first ball is so small you’ll hardly feel it. We’ll take it nice and slow, as slow as you need.” He pushed the ball against her puckered entrance, his touch light but steady. Jordan squealed as the ball pressed past the ring of muscle, not so much from pain, but from fear.
Once it was in, Donovan gave her a minute to adjust. Then he said, “Okay, ball two now. You’ll feel this one more. Just relax. Let yourself enter a submissive state of mind. Open your body and your spirit to what I’m giving you.”
Jordan’s breath came shallow and fast, her gut lurching with rising panic. She didn’t know how to relax, not with this thing being shoved into her! She had no idea how to open her body, much less her spirit.
Apple.
That was all she had to do—just say the word and the action would cease. You can do it. Listen to him. Relax. Jordan had no idea where this small but insistent voice in her head came from, but she closed her mouth, pressing her lips together to keep from saying the safeword.
Donovan pushed at the gooey metal ball again and suddenly it felt as if Jordan’s ass was being split open. She screamed at the sudden, biting pain and then— And then, nothing. It didn’t hurt anymore. She nearly laughed with relief.
“Good job,” Donovan enthused. “It’s all the way in. Jesus, you look hot. Let me get the rope secured and then I’ll show you.” He climbed onto the mattress and stood. He reached up, knotting the rope that was tied to the anal hook over the eyebolt in the ceiling. Jordan could feel the tension of the rope against the hook now buried in her ass. This was far more effective than tying her down to the bed, she realized. She didn’t dare move, no matter what happened.