Harriet's Arrangement

Completely yours

"I'm sorry, Master," Harriet whispered, still breathing hard after her unexpected climax, aware now of the cuffs chafing against her ankles and wrists, "I couldn't, I just..."

"Shh," he soothed, "I know. But you know that it doesn't change anything..." she looked up imploringly into his eyes and he laughed softly. "You know, the cane has been rattling at the cupboard door for some time now. I think it might be time to get it out."

She closed her eyes briefly. She'd known inside that that was almost definitely where he would take this – and now she'd given him the perfect excuse.

"What do you think, Miss Hattie? Would that be a fitting end to this session, given your... behaviour just now? Eyes on me, please. What do you think?"

Her gaze had wandered, and she flicked it back to him, colour rising in her cheeks. "Yes, Master," she said quietly, "Please punish me for coming without permission. Please... please cane me."

He growled softly with arousal as he tended to when her words tested his own self-control, but the smile still hovered on his lips. "Good girl," he whispered. And his lips brushed her forehead as he reached behind to unfasten the clip joining the two sets of cuffs, and then undid the cuffs around her ankles. "Stand please," he said softly, a hand on her upper arm – wrists still bound – to assist her as she stood.

He crossed to the wardrobe and selected one of the canes. As he returned, she dropped her gaze to the floor, and he began to circle her. "Miss Hattie," he said, his voice a low hum, "You are usually so good at waiting for my permission... but not tonight..." The tip of the cane caught the underside of one buttock as he aimed it at her from the side and she flinched and gasped.

He continued circling, slowly, holding the cane almost casually, his eyes roaming across her body, hers respectfully on the floor – and then the cane tip landed on her thigh, and the sting brought tears to her eyes and she groaned. Another landed on the back of her thighs not long after and she breathed in sharply, the effort of remaining still and silent, her arms still bound behind her, taking up all of her energy and concentration.

Tom liked this sort of unpredictable, gentle play. In fact, part of the experience – or indeed the key factor – in these situations was the unpredictability of it, she thought: knowing he knew how much she enjoyed the rhythm of a more traditional punishment, she was sure he used this sort of thing to further demonstrate his complete power over her. But she knew that he too enjoyed the atmosphere created by those rhythmic, strict sessions – the connection that was forged between them that came with the trust, the reliability, the knowledge that each needed what the other was giving. This meant that this wouldn't last long: he'd have her counting strokes in a moment or two.

But it lasted longer that she expected, that cruel, teasing cane tip making contact on the areas that were already sensitive, but made more so now by her completely unexpected and all-consuming orgasm: the tender skin around her thighs, on her upper back and even on her chest, hovering around the most sensitive areas on her breasts. She was dizzy, dry-mouthed and taking breaths that attempted to take control of the way she was feeling when he stopped long enough to find her lips in a kiss that she wouldn't have described as gentle. He pushed himself against her so she could feel how hard he was through his jeans, and with closed eyes she half moaned and half wimpered as he and reached behind her to unclip the cuffs on her wrists. His lips made their way along her jawline to the side of her neck, sending goosebumps rippling across her skin. And then, his mouth at her ear, he whispered "Touch your toes, please, Miss Hattie."

The ever-present butterflies in her stomach went into overdrive, and she heard herself breathe in sharply. She'd known it was coming, but hearing him say it, knowing it was now, wondering how intense he was going to make this... He stepped away, and the loss of his warmth startled her back to the present. She didn't look at him: now wasn't a time for eye contact. Instead she took a deep, calming breath and let it out very slowly. She could feel him watching her. She subtly flexed her newly-freed wrists, drew her shoulders back in an almost invisible way, and then, remaining as dignified as she could, all too aware of the stinging sensations left from Tom's teasing across her body, reached forward and down to her toes.